I glance down at the cold, hard, unforgiving floor and I manage to scrounge up the last morsel of food i can find. The maggots and other various insects that were crawling through the distasteful bit were more than I could manage. I threw down the beyond rotten food down with the little bit of energy I had and then slowly slink back against the roughed wall of my cell.I slowly lift my hand to the jar of rosemary that carefully rested against my filthy neck. My mother had given it to me before she was drug out of our home to be burned at the stake. Without warning the cell door flew open with a deafening clatter. The preacher along with a guard stepped in while bringing a most unsettling presence in with them. They both looked upon me with a loathsome expression while the preacher discoursed.
"Are you ready now to confess your sins young witch?" He said while looking at me like already wish I was in the deep dark depths of hell. The baleful feeling arise and swarm deep in ever fiber of my body, as my spleen for this distasteful human being strengthens.Eventually I can find the courage to push these feelings aside while feeling confounded by my estate and deciding to act a some sort of civil towards this fond man.
"For I beseech you pastor, I am not a witch and you have not proof that I am." I said in complete desperation. "Spare me, for I have done nothing wrong".
"Silence demon!" He glares at me with a lower and says aloud some orisons, then slowly retrieves a bible from his double. He grabs and painstakingly rips of the bauble from my neck. "What do you call this then, this is a definite sign of witchcraft."
"It was my mothers," but before I could finish he would not mark and continued on with his fond reasoning.
"For you have grounded your own fate, and you shall state your shrift now. If you are lucky God will grave you with the bounty of his forgiveness and you will be saved." He spoke with the uncaring and cruelty of satin himself as he looked at me for my unwilling and untruthful confession.
"I did nothing and I am not a witch". I managed to stutter out of my mouth for i now knew my fate. A single salty tear ran down my cheek as the preacher closed his bible and told the guard to take me away; knowing that away would mean my execution. The execution my mother would roll over in her ashy grave for, the execution she had suffered herself.