The Witch from Salem

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In the late 1600's....malevolent events would occur.

The wind howled and whistled through the crooked fingers of the branches. The sound was eerie and carried with it a chorus, which seemed to sing “beware” to the faint of heart.

Though abandoned in appearance, the forest held within it many secrets of the night. A short scene played out, within a small thicket where the scrawny trees clustered to watch; a young feline, a rat, and a cauldron. What secrets did this trio hold?

The cauldron bubbled violently. The rat sat quietly. The cat watched knowingly.

Bridget, the cat, leafed through piles of ancient books and scrolls. The lantern she held in her mouth flickered and sputtered. It was an ominous light that cast distorted shadows across Bridget’s face.

SPISSSSSSSSS….CAWWWW…PFFF..

The cauldron bubbled and hissed while a green sludge oozed over the lip of the pot and omitted a greenish glow.

“Hush my dear,” Bridget said without tearing her gaze away from her books. “You don’t want to give us away.” Though she knew perfectly well no one was near and so no one could hear.

A mischievous smile crossed the feline’s face while she read the last ingredients: “The eye of a Newt, tongue of dog, and the bones of a Sardine…yes.”

And one by one she dropped them into the goop.

“That’s it..” She whispered to the cauldron while she stirred. She swooshed and swooshed and swooshed the vile contents while she whispered ancient words under her breath.

The rat that sat upon her hat lifted his head and sniffed the air. He let out a little sneeze and continued to watch; what an interesting sight to see.

The witch at her cauldron mixing up spells and hexing treats.

‘CRACK’!

The noise of branches snapping echoed like thunder from the sky. And in the dark forest, where the sound came from was hard to find.

Bridget lifted her lantern and narrowed her eyes. Who’s there? But she saw nothing. Nothing but the trees and the shadows.

Bats squeaked above and an owl screeched. Bridget went back to her work, assured that no one was watching.

Unknown to her, a boy from the town of Salem found her secret thicket and looked on in horror at the sight before him.

A witch? So it was true; there are witches in Salem! And Bridget Bishop would be the first.

“They’ll be sorry they ever messed with me.” Bridget said with a smirk. The witch continued to brew her potions while the boy, sick with fright, ran off into the night.