Sunday, February 17, 2019


I stared in shock. Pandemonium broke out.  There were people screaming and causing violence. The town square was in chaos.  How could our good society come to this? Where has all the humanity gone? This was supposed the be civilized. That’s why we left England. We wanted to be civilized Protestants. Looking at the craziness, I can tell you that didn’t happen. Here’s how it started. 
I woke up that morning and suspected nothing to go wrong. I walked down stairs and had some bread and beer for breakfast. Breakfast was as usual, quiet. “ Children are seen and not heard,” us puritan children grew up knowing.
My brother went off to school. He had an extra problematic arithmetic lesson. I stayed home to do chores. My brother was finishing up his first part of school. Since my family was wealthy, he was going to a school close to home, Harvard.  We didn’t have any stores like back in England. Our economy was so small, like a pebble. So I had to make him clothes. Five hours, that’s how long I spent making clothes for him. If only females could go to school. I could handle arithmetic and sciences.
Later that day it was time for fun. I always called my free time fun time since most of the time my day was boring. My two closest friends were my neighbors, Amity and Felicity. We played with dolls we made ourselves. Everything we had we made.
Then Amity’s slave came out. She always freaked us out, telling us the future and scary stories. She told us something crazy was going to happen. The statement was so vague, so my mind could think of a million crazy things.
“Children, enough of play time, come inside now, I need to speak with you,” my dad said. That’s when I knew something was wrong because my dad never came home early. He was a doctor, Dr. Hudson, and he never came home early because he was very loyal to his patients. He would never stop helping  patients with smallpox unless something worse happened.
“Girls, there is a very important town meeting today; you should go back home to your families.” They hurried home, and I could see Amity’s palms get sweaty.
My mother made me wear my church dress, my Sunday best. It was my favorite blue dress because everyone said it brought out my soft blue eyes. My mom then put my hair into two braids. They were so tight I thought I might faint. Then she put my hat on.
“Do I have to wear this hat?  It makes me look like I’m five,” I wined. Uh oh, I shouldn’t have said that.
“May God bless you, once you get home you are in lots of trouble. You should be happy you  don’t have lice,” my mom defended. “Keep your hair up nice so you don’t get lice,” I grew up knowing. I dreaded the saying.
As soon as evening was coming we all got in the carriage. My parents and Joe were talking about how exciting Harvard was. “We’re here!” my high pitched voice squealed.
We went to stand in the front. This helped because I was extremely short. Soon the big town square seemed small as it was crowded with bodies.
“Welcome,” our mayor John boomed. “One of our very important church leader’s daughter and niece have been acting strange. This includes seizures and blackouts. There is one reason. She is afflicted.” He tried to explain about witches, how they follow the devil and haunt people, but no one listened.  There were people yelling at people. Saying really bad words. Accusing people of being a witch. People pushing and much worse. Joe grabbed my arm, and we hurried back into the carriage.  We got home safe. Once I was going to bed I realized nothing was going to be the same. The Salem Witch trials had begun.
The next morning our lifestyle changed. Joe stayed home from school. My mother's bible classes stopped. My dad was careful at work. With all the free time of my life “pausing” I saw my friends a lot. We joked about who we thought were witches, never taking it seriously.
The next morning a pounding knock came to the door louder than a gunshot. It startled everyone, even Joe who had tried to be brave, be a role model for me during this time. “Aubrey Hudson, you are being taken to jail for being a witch,” some police demanded. My heart started beating faster than the speed of light.  They chained me up. They tugged me along to the jail.
This is where I would be until the trial. There were many people in the jail. They were starved. So skinny they looked almost two dimensional. That’s my fate. I going to end up dying here. I will have no future. I have to make a plan get through the trial, I thought.
I sat in the corner. I would tell you what I saw, but I don’t really know. The jail just kept getting more crowded. I couldn’t see over the mountain of people. They were treating us like animals.  At that moment, I realized this was not a joke. This was what lies can do to us, to humanity. I can’t believe lies lead to this.
“Aubrey, it is time for your trial,” a tall man said. Once I got out of jail I breathed the first breath of fresh air since ages. No stench of rotten and lifeless bodies. The trial was long:

Judge: You have freckles and red hair, therefore you are a witch; what do you have to say?

Me: Before a few days ago I had no knowledge of witches. I thought they were fake, belonged in books and stories. How could I be a witch if I just found out they existed?

Judge: Barmey, you are lying! Did you sign the devil's contract?

Me: I have grown up like you in puritan faith. My mother is a bible teacher. I love God, not the devil.

Judge: Well witches have freckles, so you are a witch. Your red hair means you are a witch. You are a liar. You will go back to jail.

          Then I went back to jail. I was a healthy young girl. I could survive for a while. I spent a while in jail. I was so weak, as if a soft breeze could break my bones. I was so pale, my skin almost transparent. I was so hungry I could actually enjoy eating my vegetables.
Then  someone came in who was about my age. He was different from everyone else in jail. He had optimism. His face showed no fear. He also had something in his pocket.  To my surprise he was thrown into the jail and was next to me. “What’s in your pocket?” I asked curiously.
“Water,” he responded. I then knew I would live.
“Can I have some?” I said, my voice stuttering. He kindly gave me some. His name was Carter. Maybe I will be able to live. An hour later we became close. Our whispered conversations made it seem like I had known him for ages.
For the next week we rationed the water. Even a small drop seemed like a gallon to us. We had hushed conversations that broke the silence. Until we didn’t need to be silenced.  A tall muscular guy boomed in. His footsteps each being so powerful he would have probably broken the floor. “Aubrey Hudson, I need to see you,” his deep voice screamed.
Oh no, what’s going to happen haven’t I already been through enough? I followed him through to narrow halls. Every step I took the floor creaked as if it was going to cave in.
I was outside. It was chilly as April was in Massachusetts. Well, I was pretty sure it was April, but I lost track of time. I looked in front of me and knew my fate. I was going to be hanged. The whole town would watch my death. People came in as if we were going to a play. The tall man pushed me up and……..
An hour later I woke up in jail. Am I dead? Am I reliving my life like you do before you die? I was so confused. Carter told me someone took my place. An old woman accused. She said I was young and had much more  to live for than her. I lived because of her. Someone whose name I didn’t even know. Maybe humanity had hope after all.
The next week was very odd. Jails were already so crammed grains of rice could not fit. The jails seemed to hold the same capacity day after day. No more people came in. It seemed as if the Salem Witch Trials ended, but they forgot to tell us.
Bright and early there were feet stomping. It wasn’t loud like thunder this time; it was soft like rain. The footsteps seemed kind and sympathetic. He opened the lock on our jail. He told us we were free and how sorry he was. I was so confused.
My parents were outside to greet me, and I remember my mom clearly said, “ The Salem Witch Trials are barmy. At first we all believed because we were scared. But, now we realize how stupid it was. We can’t believe people are being witches with no evidence. You can’t always believe lies or it won't end up well.”
The following night the town of Salem had a dinner. The dinner was to honor all the accused and passed away. It was a marvelous dinner. So much food that a whole colony could live off of it  for ages. The Mayor, John, made a speech dedicated to us. He seemed very sorry about the trials.
I can’t believe only a few months ago I was making fun of The Salem Witch Trials. I experienced so much through this event. I felt like I had so much knowledge I could bring to Harvard with Joe.
I had one more thing to do before the memorial dinner was done. I had to thank the lady that took my place. When I looked at the documents, I saw her name. Samantha Williams was clearly written. I put pale pink tulips by her grave. “Samantha, I don’t know if you can hear me up in heaven, but thank you. I hope to see you one day in heaven.”
After that day The Salem Witch Trials ended. No one dare spoke a word again about it in the town of Salem, Massachusetts.




-Caroline Johnson
         






1 comment:

  1. Anonymous post:

    I like how you infused the historical event with the story by saying "We joked about who we thought were witches, never taking it seriously". With this being not a normal activity for current times, this made me understand immediately. Then, once everyone is familiar with it, you state the climax. “Aubrey Hudson, you are being taken to jail for being a witch”. Showing the conflict within the story.

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