Dorothy Hawthorne

February 24, Early 1561

Switzerland, Europe

       The hatred and dismay in my head were unreal—a 17-year-old on trial with no one else to fight alongside me. And of course, I was against stupid, smirking, rich and powerful men who were trying so hard to kill me off just because I was “different” and “special.”   If you do something suspicious once, you are accused of witchcraft before you even explain.

       My head was cluttered with gobs of thoughts. The cold piercing metal was rubbing against my wrist bones, causing frequent stabbing pains and bright red rashes. I was anchored down. My chest heaved up and down as my heart was beating as fast and loud as the thumping on my door three weeks ago.

       Face bloody, body sweating, I didn’t fight back, for I would have been brutally murdered… more than I was going to be at least. I had feared this day since I was a little girl. My ginger-colored bangs flew into my eyes, and I tried blowing it away, but it was stuck to my face with sticky sweat. I glowered and scowled at the trial men, staring so hard I thought my freckles might pop out. My little black dress with an apron was ripped and shredded on the ends from trying to run, run away from the callous and psychotic people. My dirt-stained bonnet tumbled off my head and onto the grubby, greasy ground.

       As the men were setting up the decrepit gallow by the creaky trial house, I was trying to keep a poker face as my wheels were turning for an uprising. Thoughts distracted me from reality, and I stared blankly at the life that was supposed to be ahead of me. To be with my daughter, Anne. Born one month ago. I was supposed to hide her from the darkest of evil… witch hunts. Even though I was a little too young to have her, and she was only a month old, all my love transferred to her. Her father left two months before because he thought life wasn’t worth living with a woman. She would have to brave the world without me.

       My time had come to an end, and I stared up at the trial men with cloudy and misty eyes just before I was hanged. The severe force against my neck created a throbbing pain in my body. I shrieked intensely as I got slaughtered by those men, the men who demolished my future. 

       A single tear dripped down my face and fell on the floor with sweat puddles, blood, and the bonnet. The tear landed on top of the bonnet and dissipated in the fabric. My last thought was of my dear sweet, one-month-old, Anne Hawthorne. 

       3…2…1…The severe force against my neck created a throbbing pain in my body. I shrieked intensely as I got slaughtered by those men. I couldn’t go back now. From is living to was living, I was lifted and brought away from the world I always knew. Then my life turned pitch black, and it was bloody murder. 

Anne Hawthorne

February 24, Early 1578

Switzerland, Europe

       At 4 am three weeks ago, pounding on the bright red doors woke me up from my nightmare.  I was startled awake. I had hay in my hair and a frumpy dress. My family of animals, and my daughter, Adeline, were crying and screaming when there were knocks, and I snatched my daughter and ran towards the back door into the dark cloudy night before the sun rose. I ran till my heart was dead and my breath was gone. When more commotion occurred in the barn, I ran faster and harder, farther away from the safety of my “house”... and closer to the dangers of the world. I hid in the woods, my breaths staggering, not caring about how graceful I was during this all. Gracefulness was for the pretty and proper, and clumsiness and aggressiveness were for an orphan like me.

       I kept shushing Adeline’s cries in case someone was following me, stalking me, waiting for the right time to assassinate me. I glanced all around to see if I was safe and then carefully looked down to see how badly I was scraped and bruised from the sticks stabbing me when I tripped over them. I noticed my dress was ripped on the bottom like a frilling sewed on for decoration. I bent down to see how bad it was and felt how long the rips were (just in case they went too high), and my dirt-stained bonnet tumbled off my head onto the mulch. I shoved it back on so tight, I thought I could make my head pop out. I made sure it wouldn’t fall again. 

       I suddenly felt a cold shadow lay on my back, and I jerked my head to see. Someone lurked behind and scared the living hell out of me. With a rickety shovel, they aimed at my head with a smirk spread across their face, ready to put me unconscious, maybe even commit murder. I tensed up, having nowhere to go, but to stand in the same spot and accept my fate.

       The man missed my head because of his blindness from the night. His shovel fell down right beside me, missing my head completely. The night transformed into the witching hour when the shovel went down. The orange-ish colored crescent moon, blocked by the dead trees, stared straight into my soul.  Shivers went down my spine, haunting me.

     

       I stared down at the orange-colored maple and cherry wood in the house, which was the same as the moon that night. The courthouse was small but could seat almost the entire town just to watch the death of another. The remains of past victims were scattered across the floor as if no one cleaned up. The stains on the floor gave my eyes something to focus on instead of the unemotional crowd staring at me, watching my every move. I’d only ever watched the trials, but I was never escorted in! I knew I had to hold my place. I had to stay strong. For Adeline.

       The men’s voices beside me boomed over the crowd, and the crowd was hushed to a whisper. Soon the silence escalated. Eyes watched me. A lingering shadow hovered over me like a cat ready to pounce. 

       I was bolted down by the shiny metal, catching the sun’s glints in through the window, right onto scarred wood. Today was not a bright day. The cold piercing metal was rubbing against my wrist bones, causing frequent stabbing pains and bright red rashes. I tried itching them, but I was held down by two beefy men towering over me. 

       An old man with a tall black hat approached the catwalk, and everyone turned to stare. Eyes moved with him while a smug smirk was spread across his face. He was taking his dear sweet time to tower over me on his pedestal. He sashayed into his seat and then let his voice boom over the crowd like his sound was escaping a locked cage. 

       “ANNALISE HAWTHORNE!!! YOU ARE BEING ACCUSED OF WITCHCRAFT AND SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY!!! YOU ARE YET TO BE PROVEN GUILTY OR INNOCENT!!! STATE YOUR CASE!!!” My face stirred and boiled a red fuming color. I was ready to make an attitude-filled comeback.

       “First of all, I am definitely not guilty, and I have absolutely no clue why you are accusing me when I did absolutely nothing!” I declared, standing as tall as I could with the shackles around my wrists. The scene got blurrier as I continued to state my innocence through the tears fighting to escape my eyes. “You want someone to blame? Blame the men who woke me up, an innocent woman, in the middle of the night at my BARN. Blame the man that tried to KILL ME and THREATEN TO TAKE MY LIFE. I was FIGHTING for my LIFE, and your men were the ones trying to kill me. You claim to be the good guy,  the one who will protect us from the ‘witches,’ but you’re only trying to kill the young girls that offend you.”

       The gasps that radiated around me were as loud as thunder. 

       “EX-CUSE ME, MISS!!! You shall not disrespect ME!!! The leader, who will protect the citizens at ANY cost, other than you, telling everyone lies to lead to your victory. Well, I just have one request… say hi to your mother for me.”

       Turned heads snapped in my direction. I stared coldly and hard at him. Shortly, I pulled apart from my chains and yanked in the direction of the gallow, swaying delicately in the sun’s glow from the light breeze, looking more like a hero’s weapon than a villain's. I tried escaping, but my ability weakened from my tiredness. I got hanged after many weakened tries of escaping, but I was held down by the cockroach’s little helpers.

       I was aggressively shoved up onto the hanging ropes while a singular tear dripped and escaped out of my eye. I didn’t try to run; I didn’t try to escape because I knew the history of Adeline’s mother will haunt and treat her in unjustifiable ways. The future is what matters, not right now. 

       Right before I was about to get lifted into the sky, I thought of my Adeline. I wished her the best for what might come next. I dropped my head low, waiting for the moment when they strike. My bonnet slowly fell off my head and gently floated down on the ground.

        3…2…1…The severe force against my neck created a throbbing pain in my body. I shrieked intensely as I got slaughtered by those men. I couldn’t go back now. From is living to was living, I was lifted and brought away from the world I always knew. Then my life turned pitch black… and it was bloody murder. 

Adeline Hawthorne

February 24, Early 1595

Switzerland, Europe

       I sat alone in the cold, empty alleyway behind the courthouse. Wolves howled, and not a single sound stirred in the darkness of the night. The smell of burnt flesh and rotting corpses polluted the air, and my seemingly old bonnet wasn’t helping the case. The bonnet was shabby and unkempt. Wrinkles all over, I didn’t even care. I was hunted, tormented, and abused by numerous towns folks, just because of the history of the Hawthornes. I never had a home, I was never loved and had nobody to help me. I sat there sniffling in the corner like a lost cat while a shadow approached with a flaming torch. It glowed on the side of the stone wall, making it look like the sun was setting again. This was the closest thing I had to home since the death of my mother. 

       My morning routines were very unusual compared to the grown men and women from Switzerland, but it didn’t compare to the morning when everything happened. I usually woke up, hay in my hair, and went to the town's core. I hid in the shadows, face down so no one would notice me while I stole crumbs of food people left behind. But today, I was on the run, running till my heart died of weariness. I breathed heavier and heavier, wasting my time trying to find a good spot to hide instead of running faster than I should have been. I couldn’t shake them off. I had a tail of eager men on me. Chasing me with their flaming fury, they kept getting closer and closer. 

       After running for what felt like hours, I didn’t care where I hid. I found a big rock deep in the lush forest. I was so exhausted by then. My breaths were ginormous, and I didn’t feel like worrying. My eyes felt heavy in my ball position, and I slowly started to fall against the cold stone. My breaths slowed down, and I let myself grow limper. Soon enough, I was dead asleep.

. . .

       When I woke up, I was not by the big rock in the thick woods. No birds chirped around me, nor sunlight hit my face. No dirt was under my feet, only orange-colored wood. I was dazed when I sat up. In a dim-lighted room, surrounded by eager people, I took the chance to notice my surroundings. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust, but I suddenly knew where I was. Back home. I was in the old and creaky courthouse, anchored down by rusty metal. I tried asking why, but no one responded. It was so silent as if they were waiting for something. Or someone in particular. The doors flew open with creaks and a huge thud, and in came a rich man who would take my life.

       He was walking down the path like he was strutting on a catwalk. He had some gray hair, but it was mostly long and frizzy. The hair looked like it had been styled into a ponytail, and he wore a long black shirt, almost like a tunic, and he had a short beard that looked like stubble. People perked up and stood at the sounds of his footsteps, and they started mumbling religious words like we were at church. I thought they were going to do some voodoo with the tone they were using. The guy looked familiar… as if I’d seen his eyes, his face, and hair. However, I gave no thought to it, for I  wondered if my life would disappear that day.

       “Ade-... Adeli-...” He cleared his throat with a loud cough and repeated himself. “Adeline Hawthorne!!! You are being accused of witchcraft and suspicious activity!!! You are yet to be proven innocent or guilty!!! State your case!!!”

       I questioned his authority the second he said my name. It almost felt like he didn’t have the guts to say it, as if it was his first day on this job.

       “I declare that I am innocent, for I have done nothing wrong in a way you should think I am a suspect!” I was boiling to the brim of my pot. I didn’t want to die today. I don’t think anyone would want to… “Also, you were the one who was intrusive to my personal space by trying to hunt me down! Am I that evil? Do I deserve to die?” Shoot. I shouldn’t have said that. I know the answer to that question.

       “SETTLE DOWN!” some random man yelled at me. I was on the verge of breaking down. This was too much for a 17-year-old. A single tear landed on the floor right beside me. I stared at it for a while before I picked my head up.

       “PLEASE!!! GET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE!!! I’m not who you think I am! I’M NOT A WITCH!!!”

       “As you have ‘stated your case,’ we can go ahead and consider you… guilty. You will be pressed for the charges of your life,” the man announced. I gawked at his voice. Did he really just say what I think he did?

       Before I could think, I was seized and brought toward the gallow by two ignorant, beefy men. I screamed, pouted, and kicked at them as an impulse, but they kept pulling me further and farther away from the courthouse and closer and closer to the gallow. 

       I breathed curse words under my breath, saying as many of them as I knew. It was against the code too, but by now, I didn’t care. I couldn’t tell if I was panicky or irritated. People were invading my personal space, and now they were going to be abusive to me. It felt weird having muscular arms around me. I knew I couldn’t escape their grip.

      As we approached the gallow, I felt an emotional connection to the area. The grass was matted and dead, and the dirt was as hard as a rock, but somehow I felt consoled by the imaginary ghosts protecting me.

       Love passed through me as they shoved me through the head hole. I didn’t feel scared anymore; I felt soothed and strengthened.  

       3…2…1…The severe force against my neck created a throbbing pain in my body. I shrieked slightly as I got slaughtered by those men. I couldn’t go back now. From is living to was living, I was lifted and brought away from the world I always knew. Then my life turned pitch black, and I was stuck in the darkness.

       I feel a hand on my shoulder. Two hands now. I turn my head to see hazel-green eyes softly staring at me. I keep trying to think of who she is. I recognize those eyes from somewhere. I know those eyes. I can remember them from anywhere. I hug the air where my mom and my grandma are as if they are real, but they are only a figment of my imagination.

-Lizzie L.