"No."
It's funny to think that this one single, simplistic word, that I
had uttered no less than thousands of times throughout my life, was to
determine my fate.
I could tell that they didn't believe me. No one did. They just
stared at me like predators about to pounce on helpless prey. What was I to do?
I was telling the truth, or at least I thought I was. This accusation had begun
to play tricks on my mind and I couldn't help but wonder if it might possibly be true......
But no. It couldn't be. I wasn't what they said I was. I knew I
wasn't one of 'THEM'.
As countless thoughts hurtled through my head, I barely realised
the two men approaching. They grabbed me by my arms and tugged me up.
'I'm innocent' I uttered, unheard. How could I prove myself? Here
was the problem; I couldn't.
They were leading me towards the door now. I turned my head to see
that not one eye in the crowd had moved. They were all still looking, their icy
glares piercing through me, judging me, hating me.
"Liar!" I could hear them screaming with their eyes.
"Dirty Liar!" It hurt to see that the people I once knew and loved as
friends had deserted me, distrusting me to the point of disgust.
Along the dim corridor, my each struggling footstep echoing in the
deafening silence, bringing back memories of my first day here. They
thrust me into the cell in the same way they did the first time; shamelessly,
as if I were Saton himself.
What was happening to Salem? It was as if some paranoia had
gripped us in its fingers so firmly that we’d lost all sense of compassion.
With friend turning on friend, and constant stories of misconceived identity
weaving in and out of neighbourhoods, it wasn’t entirely surprising that no one
knew what to believe anymore. And yet no one was willing to risk ignoring these
rumours, knowing somewhere in the back of their minds that it all could well be
true.
I can’t sleep knowing that this could be my last night. I think of
all the things I have accomplished in my life. All the things I still want to
accomplish. I think of my mother, the little woman with the tired face; yet
still so incredibly loving. And my father, who I try so hard to remember but
never can. All I know of him is a pocket-sized sketch my mother would always
carry with her. She found the subject of him so very hard to talk about and so
we simply didn’t.
As morning dawns, the gloomy feeling all around sends a shiver
through me. Will this be my last…..last ever………..
The paired footsteps sound along the corridor, causing my heart
rate to gain speed. Without a word, the door to my cell is thrust open and I
stand up immediately. They enter and one of them goes behind me and chains my
hands together.
This is it.
They lead me along the corridor, through the doorway, down the
steps and into the broad daylight. I can see the rope with the loop at the end,
awaiting me.
What more could I have done? All I can think about is something my
mother said to me when I was young. It was Christmas and she had had a little
too much to drink, just like every year. Strange that I would think of it now.
‘When your life flashes before your eyes, make sure you have plenty to watch”
she had said. The mood was jolly when she said that but right now I couldn’t
think of a less ‘jolly’ situation. Would I have plenty to watch? I myself
didn’t know.
My feet carry me forward, drawing me nearer to my final
destination.
I am now in front of the rope, cherishing my last minutes of life.
I knew I was still hoping for a miracle but my time was running out. I couldn’t
wait forever.
I am not a witch. The words swam through my heard faster and
faster, blocking out my other thoughts. I am not a witch. I am not a witch. I
am not a witch. I am not a witch. I couldn’t contain it any longer. It was
bubbling so violently inside me that I had to release it.
“ I AM NOT A WITCH!! I’M INNOCENT!!”
Silence. Only the morning bird found it’s voice to reply.