A/N: Hey guys! Long time no see, huh? I've decided to revamp my former fanfiction and probably finish it, this time adding more detail and pride to my work. Joe's dialogue is in parenthises, so you know. Enjoy!-Kaylee
The tall villager stared down, eyes full of malice and blurry from nights of feverish court duty, at the five children standing there, all but one dressed in offensively outlandish clothing; a brunette with freckles and dark, clever, frightened eyes. A blonde boy in a blue hat that seemed ready to strike at any given moment. A gawky lad with spiky raven hair, who seemed ready to faint. One figure that stood out was an unfamiliar face; a girl, pale with freckles and long red hair tied back in a yellow ribbon. Her huge, brown, unseeing eyes reflected fear and a quiet courage that seemed meekly, unwillingly ready for what danger lay ahead, as danger was part of everyday life for her.
Standing behind them, pink mouth agape, was a young girl no older than the others, confused and meek. Her stringy blonde hair and unblinking green eyes were wild and on all accounts she appeared to be mad. "Constable, sir! I know not of these strangers!"
The tall man, now recognized as the village Constable, showed no mercy in his expression. "Goody Hope, you stand accused of witchcraft, and upon the day we make your arrest, these four...heathens...land on your doorstep, dressed outlandishly and speaking some odd vernacular?" His voice was angry and shrill, as though he was outraged that she dare not be able to explain what was going on.
The brunette with clever eyes chimed in, "Sir, your Constable-ness? This girl, whoever she is, didn't have anything to do with us being here! This kinda thing happens all the time, see-"
"Silence!", the Constable roared angrily. "I will have silence!" He glowered down at Goody Hope, as the insane looking girl was known. "This is evidence enough to arrest all of you."
"Arrest us?", the blonde boy quipped, "For what? We didn't do anything!"
The Constable glared. "On suspicion of witchcraft." He yelled to the crowd of townspeople behind him, "Take them away!"
All five of them, boys and girls included, screamed.
Which Witch?
Hey everyone, Joe here. You and I haven't heard from each other in a long time...mostly because my show got cancelled, dirty rotten lousy...Anyway, I bet you're wondering how me, Fred, Sam, and of all people, the new girl at school, got trapped in Salem Mass, 1692, right in the middle of a major Witch Hysteria. Well, here's a clue; IT'S ALL SAM'S FAULT.
I guess I'd better explain a little more, huh? The whole mess started a a few days ago, right before Winter Vacation.
Sam, Fred and Joe were sitting in class, bored out of their minds as the teacher droned on about finals. "Your final report will be twenty percent of your grade, in which case, I hope you had better study." His expressionless voice was enough to drive anyone up a wall.
Fred and Joe were making faces at each other, but Sam was furiously scribbling in his notebook. He got excellent grades anyway, but he always stressed out over finals, even more than anybody else. It was hardly even the class or the grades. Sam was simply one of those kids who was always nervous.
Just before boredom finally claimed the entire class as its own, an abrupt knock came to the classroom door, followed by the teaching assistant for the special needs students flawlessly slipping through a crack in the solid oak like a cat through a fence. Her timid voice rose. "Mr. Markward? A word please?"
"Okay." The teacher adjusted his glasses, dull expression never changing. "Now class, I have to step out for a moment. Turn to page thirty six and begin the study guide I gave you."
The class groaned collectively as Mr. Markward exited the room with the teaching aide. Sam turned to his two friends. "Wasn't that Miss Cheerilee?"
"Who?", Joe responded.
"Miss Cheerilee, the teaching aide for the special needs classes."
Fred piped in, "You mean the teacher for the dumb kids?"
"They're not dumb!", Sam shot back, "They have learning or physical disabilities. My friend Marcus from the chess team is in that class, and he's just dyslexic." He breathed in. "So what do you think she wanted, anyway? She never comes over here."
A few seconds later, their question was answered; Mr. Markward re-entered the door hand in arm with a small ginger girl with a yellow ribbon, face painted with a bright smile. "Class, let me introduce you all to Rita Dunaway," he droned. "Miss Cheerilee informs me that by request of her mother, she be moved to here from Special Education. Now keep in mind, class that Rita is a person just like you and me and deserves to be treated like everyone else, alright." He turned his blandness toward the poor girl, who was now blushing. "Rita, is there anything you would like to say to the class before we continue?"
Her face was completely bright pink now. Rita Dunaway spoke, in a soft, cracking voice. "I...well, I'm legally blind. I was born that way and I'll die that way, probably. I play the violin...but not well. I...I don't like cats, and..."
"That's enough Rita." The class snickered at the teacher's unintentional singling out of the new kid. Mr. Markward led her down the aisle to a row of seats containing Sam, Fred and Joe. "You may sit here next to Sam. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to help you with the assignment." He handed Rita her specialized textbook, written in braille, and walked back to his seat, leaving an awkward atmosphere hanging like a cloud over the four.
And it all went downhill from there.