Disclaimer: The Charmed Characters are the property of Aaron Spelling and Constance Burge. I just borrow them for your enjoyment and my writing addiction.
Spirits from the other side
Salem, MA 1692:
"Ye all are against me." She yelled over the crowd as she fought to free herself from the binds holding her.
"Witch, witch, witch, witch" they chanted louder and louder throughout the court.
"Martha Corey. You are condemned for witchcraft." The judge's hammer crashed down as the chanting continued.
One more innocent victim, what would become the famous witch trials of Salem. MA. But this victim was no victim, and she was far from innocent. This victim was indeed a witch, and this decision would come back to haunt them all some day.
New York City 1998:
"Come on Phoebe it'll be fun."
"I know it will be Stacey, I just don't feel up to it right now."
"And that would be because Piper never called last night. You feel as if she has abandon you like Prue did when you came out here."
"No it's nothing like that."
"So come with us. My cousin is dying to meet you and it will give us a break from this crazy city."
Phoebe pondered what her friend was telling her before she decided to go. She had missed Piper's call that came every Thursday night, and she was wondering why her sister had not called.
"OK I'll go." She relented as she looked up at her friend. "Just let me call Piper before we go, incase she does call and so she isn't worried when I'm not here." Phoebe walked into her room and picked up the phone and dialed the Manor.
Getting the answering machine she just left a message; "Piper. It's me Phoebs. I'm heading down to Boston for the weekend and I just wanted to let you know in case you called. I missed your call last night. I'll be back on Sunday night. Take care, I love you." She finished as she hung up the phone.
They had driven up to Boston from their apartment just outside the city limits of NYC, picking up two more friends along the way.
"So Phoebe, Stacey said your sister never called last night."
"No. She was probably busy with something, maybe work."
"Sorry Phoebe. I know how much you look forward to the calls you get from her."
"It's ok Jim. I called and left a message telling her to call me back on Sunday night." Phoebe acted as if it didn't bother her, but in fact it did. She missed her sisters, but was determined to make it on her own, and hopefully find thier Dad while she was at it.
The chatter continued back and forth most of the drive. Finally pulling into Stacey's cousins driveway at around 11PM
"Man I thought you guys would never get here."
"Hi Sam." Stacey greeted her cousin with a warm hug. "I think you know everyone except Phoebe." She said as she looked over at her friend.
"Pleased to meet you Phoebe. So I hear you're from San Fran."
"Yeah."
"So how you enjoying the other coast?"
"Not bad actually. I miss the warmth of the California sun but NY's sun isn't that bad either."
"Wait till you get your first winter." soneone laughed as they unloaded the car
"So you gonna be staying out here long or is this just a 'get away from it all' kinda trip."
"Not sure yet. But right now I can't see me going back anytime soon."
"Well good. Then I'll be seeing more of you with my cousin here then."
Phoebe read right into his flirtation and smileed back at him. "Yeah guess you could be."
--- ----
That night was filled with catch-up, and get to know each other as they all gathered around the living room in Sam's house. Though each one not realizing what the next day would hold.
They had walked through the town, as the sun beat down on them. Laughing at each corner they came to, and getting the odd look from passers by.
"Ok now where?"
"Ok how about the witches memorial. After all we've been to the Salem witch museum."
"Ok the memorial it is." Sam replied as he took Phoebe by the arm and escorted her towards the square that held a memorial to the witches that had been tried, convicted and hung for their suspicion in witchcraft.
As they past through the small park they read each name and each cement headstone. There was no record of where the victims were buried this was just a place in the square as a monument as to what the town had become at one dark point in their history.
Phoebe walked by and read each name: Bridget Bishop, Sarah Good, Rebecca Nurse, Susannah Martin, Elizabeth How, Sarah Wildes, George Burrough, John Proctor, John Willard, George Jacobs, Martha Carrier, Giles Corey, Martha Corey, Mary Easty. But as Phoebe kept reading the last few names she felt a cold chill pass through her. She wasn't sure what it was, the wind perhaps, or maybe it was the passing of something else. She recalled in the museum reading that some of those accused had confessed of being witches. Maybe it was a lingering spirit or something.
She shook off her fears and continued down each stone reading the last few names. But deep down inside she couldn't shake the deep feeling she had that something was just not right.
"So Sam can I ask you a really crazy question?"
"Sure Phoebe go ahead."
"Ok what on earth inspired you to get a place that over looks a three hundred year old graveyard?"
Sam looked at her and started to laugh, "What? You're not afraid of ghosts or anything supernatural are you Phoebe? A girl from San Fran. You must have seen just about everything."
"No I'm not afraid. But this isn't exactly the best location in town."
"Good. Cause actually there are people buried in there that are more then three hundred years old dead." He laughed again at her.
"Ok stop it."
"No. It's true. Rumour has it that there are even some of those tried and hung in there." he said with a straight face.
"So what you are saying? That people think that some of the witches or more so, those accused of being witches, are buried out there?" she asked looking out to the grassy grounds to the end of his backyard.
"Exactly. Some people have traced some of the burials back and have figured where some of them may have been buried. Though no markers where left for them, there are those in the town that will lay flowers in certain spots in town where they have thought one of them may be. They usually do it on the date that they were hung."
"OK that a a little weird."
"Not if you believe they were all innocent. In some ways it is the towns people now that say they are sorry."
Phoebe looked out to the graveyard almost expecting to see someone emerge from the ground or something. Though nothing came, she still had the same bad feeling she had earlier that day, that something, somewhere, was just not right.
The next day they had wondered back into town and the first thing Phoebe noticed that morning were the random placement of flowers through out the graveyard.
"Sam?"
He looked out to what Phoebe was seeing, "Sept 22. Someone has left them all flowers."
"Left them all?"
"Well all but one. Some people still think that Martha Corey was truly a witch."
"Why her and not any of the others that actually confessed?"
"Don't know. Could be because her husband was also accused and refused to stand trial. He was killed by being crushed to death, and she was hung on Sept. 22."
"So she was hung some four hundred plus years ago today and no one left her flowers, but they left them for everyone else that was hung on this day?"
"You got it."
Phoebe looked out to the graveyard as they walked past it. Seemed weird that now, after how many years, that people would do what they could to apologize for crimes that were not even rendered by them.
As they once again walked through the memorial to those hung Phoebe noticed that once again Martha Corey's headstone boar no remembrance as the others did.
"Hey Phoebe just so you know if you're interested."
"What's that?"
"Martha's Husband Giles."
"The one that was pressed to death."
"Yeah. He was killed three days before his wife."
"And." She asked almost waiting for more information. She wasn't sure what it was that had drawn her to this particular person she just was.
"Nothing. The town figured him a real witch so they don't leave anything."
She roamed as she had many times on that night. As she had the few nights prior and the one previous, over the past four hundred years. Ever since the night she had lost her husband she was condemned to wonder the earth on those few nights. But as she roamed she felt herself being pulled in one direction. First it was the museum then the memorial that she had seen a thousand times. No remembrance to her for she knew that they all felt she truly was a witch, even now when such a thing was not even thought possible. How had everyone come so far to one day think all were witches and then soon down the road think it was just not possible?
She soon figured out what was pulling her. A small group of young adults, but there must be some reason she was drawn to them. She had recognized the one boy. She had seen him around before, but the others meant nothing to her.
Yet she felt the need for her own revenge. For she knew those that had opposed her, and now it was time for them all to pay. Something was making her feel a surge. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt it was something to do with those that pulled her.
The next day and many of those after her fateful day she was still able to wander the earth in her way. "What? How can this be?"
"You have been given a special chance to right your wrong." The voice inside her said.
"But."
"No buts. You will fix the wrong that was done."
She listened to the voice, but she quickly brought in her own plan. To right the wrong. To return to those that had accused her. To kill those that opposed her, or at least kill those related to those.