Perhaps it was freedom itself that choked her. Ever since she was a child she had been haunted by a weighted dread of the ancestors before her. A past that has been all but shuttered from her that now follows her arround with every waking moment.
Sc...
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*-*-*- A/n: fun fact.... You ready... good history lesson.. yah? In Europe between the years 1500 and 1660, an unimaginable number of innocent people were put to death. An estimated 80,000 suspected witches died during those years, either while being tested and tried or punished and executed. Germany executed the most witches, while Ireland executed the least.
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I'll continue the..... Yeah... The story
2023
Else stood looking out her second story window, sighing as she watched the rain beat down onto the cement outside. "And to think we only had a twenty percent chance today. I swear, everyone is lying these days." She said to herself as she took a step back in disgust.
Why couldn't something just go her way for once?
She had asked her self that many times.
Even if it was sunny she wouldnt want to step outdoors anyways. Only people with friends did, and people who heard voices did not.
She was used to it anyways.
It just sucked having to do homework that was made to do in a group of two. Especially when it was writing an essay about where your family roots were during the 1600s.
Anyone who had ancestors around Salem, Massachusetts had to write an "interesting" short tale about what it would be like in their shoes.
And she so happened to not know anything about her families whereabouts.
She did know she was the first girl in the family to not carry on the crimson red hair that marked them as relatives. No, she had to draw a rich chocolate color hair and green eyes that changed colors.
Could've been worse though, could've been orange.
She cringed at that thought and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall, it was of her mother, holding two small bundles in her arms. Her crimson hair stood out against the white smile that displayed her joy.
One bundled, had chocolate hair. The other had the telltale crimson color.
Her brother, only older by a minute. She thought with a small smile. He was her twin brother, and they werent as close as they used to be. He had taken the path of going to college early, and was already on his way to becoming a nurse practitioner. She, on the other hand, was dealing with the hate of everyone in the town. Else sighed as she made her way back onto the comforting warmth of the covers that were hanging off of her bed.
What was she to do?
She cringed and rubbed her forehead as the headache overtook her. How is it that she had to be the one being questioned about a history she did not know? She didn't care about witches.
You should, though.
A whisper of a thought entered her head without her permission, making her want to slam her head on the wall beside her. Why should she? All she had to do was piece something together and hand it in, she would never live it down if someone found out. If someone found out that there was a chance that she was a relative to a long dead witch.
It made her uneasy, as if she was walking into something that would only doom her. Why would she wish that upon herself, after all?
She pulled her computer close and looked a the screen, staring blankly at a drawn picture at a girl burning. Underneath was a quote from one of the women who had been accused. "You are a liar. I am no more a witch than you are a wizard, and if you take away my life God will give you blood to drink,” were Sarah Good’s last words at her execution.
Else stopped what she was doing as those words started to echo in her head like a chant, visions through another's eyes of a woman dying accused. Else slammed the computer shut and shuttered in horror. Did those men and women ever feel the wrath for spilling blood?
Why did that quote feel so familiar, so... Of her own?
Else opened her computer back up and researched for any children of Sarah Good, only to pause. An infant who died while she was imprisoned, and a girl who died at sixteen with no record of a child. Was there a chance that Dorothy Good had a child? It would have been common for a girl to bear a child at that age, even younger.
Else spent the next hour looking, to no prevail.
But something deep down, deep in her bones, told her that it was hidden.
All the leads that she had found lead back to the old english name Goode.
