Chapter 1

I watched and desperately tried to hold my tongue while they hung yet another innocent woman. She wasn't a witch, she couldn't be. She wasn't but a child, calling her a woman was a stretch. She couldn't have been older than 15. They knocked the barrel out from underneath her feet and much to my horror, her death was not instantaneous. She struggled for air, her legs kicking wildly. The crowd around me gasped, some covering their eyes. I looked down at the ground. It took at least 3 minutes for her to die. I felt the over whelming need to empty my stomach, it was a wretched sight. Her family stood to the side, it was mandatory to attend a hanging, more shame to the criminal. Her younger siblings and mother in tears, father's face contorted in pain. I quickly walked back to the one place where truly nobody could find me. I swallowed hard and ran my fingers through my black hair. That was the 7th hanging this week, all of them innocent. I looked down at the rushing water of the river. I was deep in the woods, off the beaten trail. I come here everyday when I need a break from the insufferable idiocy of my community. It felt like I was the only intelligent one left. I lost track of time and the sun started to sink in the sky. I walked home quickly, where I lived alone. That was unusual for a woman of my age. I had no husband and my mother died giving birth to me, not knowing who the father of her child was. I'm 22 and most girls get married around the age of 15 to 18. I was all but shunned by my community. My long black hair was odd and out of place, seen as promiscuous. All woman covered their hair with a bonnet. I don't see the point. I wear one but it covers a very small amount of my uncontrollable mane. I wore bright colors instead of the yawn inducing grays and brown most women wear. I'm surprised I haven't been hung myself. It was still early but I went to bed having lost patience for this day.

*

I woke up and hurriedly got dressed, not forgetting the mandatory piece of white cloth I MUST tie to my head. I walked to the shop I work at and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that my boss was just getting there. He glanced at me.

"Sleep much last night Catalina?" My name also sticks out, it comes form Spain and my mother wasn't Spanish, considering my very pale skin. I nodded.

"But not to peacefully." I'm almost always exhausted, no matter how much I sleep.

"As per usual." He chuckled. His name is Mr. Adams. I've never known his first name. I started my daily chores when a man, who was quite odd, walked in. His hair was long, black, and untamed and his white button up shirt was splattered with mud and torn. His brown trousers stained from grass. I glanced at him, bewildered by his disheveled state. Mr. Adams looked at him cautiously.

"May I help you sir?" He asked.

"I'm looking for somebody." He muttered, his voice deep and raspy. " A madam named Catalina Allen." My breathe caught in my throat. Who IS he? He wasn't but a young man, about my age. He was handsome but filthy. " Do you know where I might find her?" He asked politely.

"May I ask where you're coming from young man?" Mr. Adams asked.

"Maryland." He said casually. MARYLAND?! He came all the way from Maryland to Salem for me? I don't even know this man. Mr. Adams let out a low whistle.

"You came all this way just to talk to that young lady?" He asked.

"Yes sir, now, would you be so kind as to tell me where she is?" He asked. He glanced at me and the man followed his gaze.

"Catalina? Do you know this young man?" Mr. Adams chuckled. The man looked me over curiously.I looked at him and shook my head.

"Oh, no." The man shook his head. "I'm a friend of her father's, he sent me to come after his daughter, to bring her home." My head snapped around to look at him.

"Excuse me, but I think I'm perfectly fine where I am." I snapped.

"Woooo, this one has a temper." The man laughed. I glanced at Mr. Adams. This fellow is very, very strange.

"Well she's working right now, maybe you could come back at a later time," Mr. Adams said firmly. The man opened his mouth to say something when a officer walked in and informed us that there is yet another hanging and we must report to the town square. I clenched my jaw but nodded obediently. I put my broom back where it belongs and followed the man and Mr. Adams out of the shop. This poor girl was even younger than the last one, she couldn't be any older than 13. I let out an angry breathe. These "experts" wouldn't know a witch if she was right under their nose, which she has been, the whole time...