People generally stepped away when she passed. An who wouldn't? She might have been pretty once, before time and cirumstances changed her. Her drity blonde hair was covered in grime and lice. Her eyes were hazel with gold-coloured streaks, but they clouded over 'til the only thing you could see was grey if she bumped someone. Her dress had once been a simple but well-cut rose-coloured cotton dress, but now it was tattered and torn, and the rose had changed to grey.
But the expression in her face!
It was terrifying!
Her eyes were wide and bloodshot. her eyebrows were perpetually raised. Her skin was white beneath mud. Her mouth was tight but sad. She had the look of someone who had seen too much pain and suffering.
She had the look of insanity.
Unfortunately for her, she did not know the city, and no one wished to speak with her, let alone giver directions. Which was how she arrived at the town square. She had hoped to avoid the busier sections of twon, but here she was.
Standing in the center, trying to find a way out, she heard a voice behind her. Turning around, she saw a man- a butcher, judging by the stains on his apron- talking to a friend, not watching where he was goin. But she had just a glimpse of him before he ran into her.
meat-wheels-horse-screeching-the world turning red-blood everywhere-pain-numbness-people yelling-tears-so much blood-children screaming-women crying-more yelling-numbness-can't fell body-world fading-sound dimming-blackness-silence
With a gasp, the girl's eyes returned to hazel, the grey clouds receeding. She looked at hte man and said in a tearful voice,
"You are going to die!"
"Say what?" he asked.
"You... you're going to die! I... I saw it! I know it sounds crazy, but I... I... see things! Not like normal people; I see the future. Only never happiness. Always pain, suffering, death. And when you bumped me, I saw your death!" Tears wree falilng down her cheeks in a silent flood, smearing the dirt on her face more. "Please believe me!"
"Uh-huh. And how am I gonna croak?"
"I don't know. I saw blood; lots of it! And a horse. And wheels. A cart, perhaps?"
"Right. Now listen up, missy. You look crazed. Now, I want you to run home, get yourself washed up, and stop pretedin' to be a witch. Witchcraft is outlawed, but I don't think yer one. Actually, I think it's all trash. So you run home and be good."
"I can't," she said softly.
"Why not?"
"My... my father threw me out."
"Why?"
"I... I predicted my sister's death. I saw that she would trip in the kitchen and fall on a knife, and... she did. Then I saw my brothers' deaths. And they came true."
"Huh. Well, I myself still don't believe ya. So you run along, yeah?"
And he turned away, leaving the girl standing.
She stared after hi, and said softly, tearfully, "Farewell."
And as she said it, the milkman's carthorse was spooked by a bird. The horse ran. The milkman tried to stop it, but was thrown from the cart when it hit the butcher and tipped.
The milkman got up,and went to help the butcher. With the help of the butcher's friend, he got the cart off- and froze.
The butcher had not mearly been knocked down. He had been cut in half.
There was blood everywhere. The men yelled for doctors. Children started screaming. Women cried.
And the girl turned away, brushing a tear from her cheek. It was sad that he hadn't heeded her warning-
can't breath-can't laugh-need air-can't breathe-light dimming-hard to see-yellow stripes across vision-can't see-blackness-sound dimming-need air-can't hear-getting sleepy-need air-need breath-need rest-too tired-no energy-no energy to breathe-stop fighting-so tired...
She gasped. The large man she had walked into looked at her suspisciously. Tears coarsed down her already tearstained face.
"You all right, miss?"
"You're going to.. to..." She started sobbing.
"What am I gonna do?"
"Die!" She hiccuped.
"Right. And um... how?" The man had trouble surpressing laughter.
"You're... you're gonna choke!"
The man laughed. Swiping an apple from a nearby stand, he took a bite.
"Look, missy, you're just crazy. Why would I cho-" Suddenly, he stopped. Knowing he must have choked on a piece of apple, the girl tried to help him. But she was small, and he was big, and she couldn't reach around his middle. She called for help, but no one knew what to do.
"I tried to warn you..." she said softly to the man as he died.
I am Alitzia. Just Alitzia. My family threw me out, and I do not use my family name.
I see the future. But not just any future. I only see pain, suffering, death. But I really do see it. I am not insane. I do not cause it.
I am not insane.
Yet.
I hate my life. As I lie here in this doorway, I think of how good the lives of other people are. They have hot food and warm beds and loving families. I have whatever food I can steal. I have whatever gusty doorway or dark alley I can find. And I hae no one.
Once, my life was good. I had no mother- she had died giving birth to me- but I had a stepmother, two brothers, three sisters, my aunts and uncles and cousins, my grandparents, and my father. Life on our family's farm was hard but good. I did my chores, and my family did theirs, and every night after dinner we would sit and talk and laugh.
And then it happened.
It started with Emmeline, or Emmie, my eldest sister. She generally cooked for our family. Then, one day, as she brushed against me, I had a vision. She litened to me, and decided I must be feverish. She tucked me into bed, and went into the kitchen to make me some soup. Little Isobella was sasing dishes.
"Be careful, Bell. That knife is shapr! We wouldn't want to cut your pretty little fingers off, would we?"
Bell nodded and carefully set the knife down on the table.
Emmie turned to the stove and nearly tripped over eight-year-old Esteban, who was running in circles around the kitchen. "Be careful!" she chided. "Someone will run into you! Play quietly, or play outside!" Teban nodded, and sat on the floor to play with his dolls.
Emmie hurried arond the kitchen. Ever since my mother died, Emmie had been the woman of the house and main cook. My aunts and stepmother had children to look after, as did my female cousins that were older than Emmie. My grandmothers were old and senile. Only Emmie worked in the kitchen, although I sometimes helped her.
Until that day.
As she turned from the pantry, she tripped over Teban's ball. She fell against the table. Teban and Bell both jumped up to help her.
At fist they thought she had hit her head; she was limp, unmoving. But as they picked her up, they saw it.
The knife. The knife Emmie had warned Bell about. The knife Bell had carefully placed on the table.
The knife embedded in Emmie's chest.
Suddenly, the door behind me opened, bringing me out of my reverie. The woman shook her fist at me and yelled, "Get on with ye! Scat!"
Standing up, I huried down the street, tears streaming down my face.
"And don't stop until we burn the witch!" the man on the pedestuel yelled. The crowd roared.
"Now go!"
The crowd took off. They searched the city. They were on a mission from WitchHunter Samuel Freticus. Even those who didn't believe in witches helped. If you didn't help, you could be tried for witchcraft, and witchcraft was punishable by death.
Roaring, the crowd combed the city. They entered every house, searched every street, walked every alley. With luck, they would find the witch.
And they would burn her.
Many hours later, the crowd again gathered around the WitchHunter.
"Who has found her?" he cried out.
"There were murmurs through the crowd, then,
"I have!"
It was the butcher's friend. The crowd parted to let him pass. The man dragged Alitzia to the WitchHunter. As he passed, people made the WitchSign, a triangle made with the thumbs and pointer fingers, which was laid over the heart to protect one from witches.
The WitchHunter looked at Alitzia, a mad look in his eyes. "Witch, you are to be tried for witchcraft at High Noon tomorrow." Turning to the town guards, he ordered, "Take her away!"
The guards dragged a sobbing Alitzia away.
I, WitchHunter Samuel Freticus, stepped onto the podium. Adressing the crowds, I cried,
"People of the town of Riverspool, I ask you; do you wish to be killed?"
"No!" the crowd roared.
"And who is that?" I pointed at the witch.
"A witch!" they yelled.
"And what do witches do?" The crowd muttered. "They practice the Dark Arts, and murder us in their heathen practices!" I cried. Then, quieter, I asked them, "And what do we do with witches?"
"We burn them!"
"Then let us burn the witch! But first, she must stand trial, for we do not wish to kill an inocent." The crowd nodded. I'd always thought it a stupid rule- all who were tribed were convicted- but rules are rules.
A guard pulled the witch up to the Witch's Chair. Loudly, so as to let all hear, I asked her, "Witch, what say you to being tried for witchcraft."
She spat in my face. "I am no witch. Or if I am, witches are good! I only tried to save them!"
"Really?" I asked. "Explain."
"I... I see things. So maybe I am a witch. But I can't control it! And I don't cause them to die! All I see is painand death! So I try to warn them-"
"Abomination!" I spat, but she wasn't finished.
"How would you like to be me? People hate me, but I'm the one who should hate them! If there were no other people, I wouldn't see things! And when I see things, I suffer through the pain they experience when they die! But you want to kill me! I tried to warn them! I always do! But... But..." She succumbed to hiccuping sobs.
I smiled. "See, people of Riverspool! The witch has admitted. But we must test her. She may only be insane. We must be sure. Therfore, I sugest the Trial of Water. At this time tomorrow, we will discover whether or not she is a witch!"
I watched the guards drag her away. Smiling to myself, I headed to my hotel.
At High Noon the next day, I stood upon the bride, watching the people assemble. When they were done, I said loudly, "Yesterday, we saw the witch confess her crimes. But, to make sure she is truly guilty and not mearly insane, I have decided to test her with the Trial of Water."
"According to tests, a witch will not sink. She will use her witchcraft to make herself float. Therefore, we will throw the witch into the river. If she sinks, she is inocent, but if she floats, she is a witch!"
And with that, two guards seized the witch and tossed her over the side and into the river.
cold-unbelievably cold-so wet-can't breathe-need air-struggle to the surface-can't get up-need air-no strength-cold-numb-can't feel-need air-tired-blackness
I gasped- and immediately regretted it. I was, after all, under water. Had I see my own death? That had never happened before. But then, I had never died before. But I shouldn't see my own death- my foresight required physical contact. There was no reason for it...
But no time to wonder about that now! I had to get to the surface, or I would drown!
I stood on the bridge, smiling grimly. She was staying near the surface. She must be a witch.
Signalling to one of my lack- I mean associates, I said, "Fish her out!"
The man nodded, and yanked the witch out of the water. She gasped, and he looked at her. Then he turned to me, and slipped on a rock, plunging into the waters.
"Someone help him!" I yelled. My fool associates just looked at me.
"Uh... Boss, we can't swim." one of them said.
"For goodness sakes! Well? Townspeople! I'm ridding your town of witches! Can't you help the man?"
"No need!" one woman piped up. "He's stopped thrashing. He's a gonner!"
Muttering, I left the bridge, heading for the hotel and a cup of coffee.
The pain in my wrists was unbearable. They had bound my hands tightly so I couldn't escape. And my legs ached. But I couldn't sit- I was tied to a stake.
The WitchHunter came up to me. I spat in his face. Wiping his face, he turned to the crowd.
"People of Riverspool!" he cried, "I present to you... A WITCH!" The crowd roared. "And what should we do with this witch?" he asked. I don't know why he did- I already knew the answer.
"BURN HER!!!"
Smiling, the WitchHunter accepted a torch from one of his lackeys. He then bent over, lighting the oil and wood around me.
The wood and oil caught. Before long, the flames wre huge. My skin hurt. It was hot! I couldn't breathe- the hot air was filled with smoke. I was so hot! My skin hurt! Looking down, I saw that my hair and dress was on fire. Soon my skin would catch!
Through the haze, I saw the WitchHunter. He was holding a jar of something. Then he tossed it at me. My body was cut by shards of broken glass. And then I realized what had been in the jar.
Oil.
I screamed as my body caught. It hurt! And I couldn't breathe. Everything was dimming...
I turned away. Another one gone. Her body was consumed by the flames; she was dead. And she was so young.
So many dead. They were almost all killed. If only I'd otten here sooner.
Trying not to gasp as I brushed people, I left the town center.