Jenna by Kat Fiore The horror of love. [2 words]
Like Troubled Water by Amarjit Bhambra One way of explaining life... [1,261 words]
He Gave It All Away by Amarjit Bhambra I have my own African Grey and this story was written in 1999, hope you like it.... [1,959 words]
Eat You Lunch Children by Amarjit Bhambra A story for Halloween for young children,especially the ones that don't finish their lun... [450 words]
The Power Within by Amarjit Bhambra - [90 words]
The Pharoah's Daughter by Amarjit Bhambra A little tale one mightlike.... [246 words]
The Healing Hand Of The Lord by Amarjit Bhambra I was in a Foreign Country, with my son who fell ill in the middle of the night. ... [259 words]
The Good Against The Evil by Amarjit Bhambra - [628 words]
Charlie The Squirral by Amarjit Bhambra When my son was born,I alway remember a Squirral in the Hospital grounds that the Nurses u... [341 words]
A Thing Of A Bat? by Amarjit Bhambra When this actually happened, it was very hilarious. I hope you imagine it well to enjoy that ... [349 words]
Wonderful, Wonderful Works Of God, The Lord God Is My Healer, My Protector by Amarjit Bhambra I think that sharing is very importa... [197 words]
The Heart Of A Noble Woman by Mandi Butkovich -A story about a young noble woman who first discovers what love is.---Please Review [860 words]
Witchcake
Venice by Matthew Penner - [303 words]
Untitled About Bugs by Durfee's Student World from the perspective of another. Title suggestions appreciated! I can print the 2nd... [1,706 words]
Things That Really Happen In Life - The Sense The Feeling Before It Really Happens. by Amarjit Bhambra This really happened to me ... [356 words]
Thin Air by Randall Barfield ...you'd think it impossible that one man could terrorize an entire nation but,of course,... [874 words]
There Are No Others! Just Me! by Nik Siromah Short story about one of the greatest Bulgarian revolutionary of all time, Vasil ... [3,577 words]
The Thorn And The Rose by Amarjit Bhambraaa Bitter tangled love? [224 words]
The New Gaurdians by Creature Of Death This is another story I made like I said sci-fi is my beiggest thing I like to write about th... [2,079 words]
The Hunter by Evgeni Miller Jonas Rath A short story dating a couple of months ago. Comes with a second chapter which will be posted in a... [433 words]
The Electric Car by Tomas Sancio B Baquiano Two stories in Latin America become intertwined when a young Engineer kills herself after a fa... [1,462 words]
Teenager's Prayer by Jordan Holetzky A teenager's prayer... [1,216 words]
Screaming, Save Me. by Marie Buzzy After the dream ends, I find myself sitting in bed, frightened and panicking as I whisper t... [718 words]
Schoolgirl by Randall Barfield - [937 words]
Reflections And Modern Man by Kristal O-Garrow The dispersed thoughts of a man who just experienced a divorce. [678 words]
Pedro by Jordan Holetzky Talks about people who don't even know you are will to care about you to pray for you and to share God wi... [654 words]
Nightmare 1 The Chase by Jordan Holetzky This story is about a freaky dream... [752 words]
My Treat by Amarjit Bhambra - [631 words]
My Name by Allie Haaland - [209 words]
My Embarrassing Moment by Brady Kalt This is a short story about one of my embarrassing moments. [203 words]
Mountain Arrival by Norachai Thavisin The hermit has to prepare his mountain chalet for the arrival of his woman visitor. He didn't ... [2,095 words]
Most Embarrasing Moment by Anthony Espinoza Assignment for school. [226 words]
Mexico by Hiatt - [799 words]
Life Force by Caleigh Jepison Please please can you tell me what you think? Starting chapter of a horror novel - may be a bit clic... [603 words]
Inbox by Nathan Weaver The first in a series of short horror stories. I can't say much without spoiling anything. Just check i... [688 words]
Inbox 2 by Nathan Weaver The second in the series. The roommate. [1,081 words]
In Michael's Mind by Am Mason R.I.P. Michael. [218 words]
Hospital Room by Randall Barfield Sadly, it's another case of "who needs fiction?" [1,115 words]
Hickory Dickory by Tomas B Sancio Of mice, men and Nuclear Science. [828 words]
Family Therapy Remembering Nama's Funeral by Mickey Bryant This short story gives detailed descriptions of the comedy of errors ... [5,111 words]
Embarrassing Day At The Pool by Kaitlin Kingdon A short story about an embarrassing day at a pool on vacation. [319 words]
Damn by Bk Kinsel It is all my fault. [163 words]
Creature Of Death's Bio by Creature Of Death This a character I use alot in my stories he reflects me and my mood at certain times a... [3,589 words]
Birthday Visitors by Norachai Thavisin Two unexpected people visit me on my birthday. We spend an unexpected day at the local beach.... [1,319 words]
A True Story About A Very Young And Naive Nathan Weaver by Nathan Weaver The title says it all. A short, true story about mysel... [346 words]
A Red Tent by R Amici I had to submit this for school. [633 words]
A Cry In The Dark by Barry Stevens Faeden A creepy story of the macabre. Not for the weak hearted. [887 words]
'fly by Lawrence Peters Freedom [426 words]
Without Reason by Sime Sheef Anger breeds hate and hate breeds evil. Unfortunately this perfect world breeds all three. [983 words]
Whisper Of A Hero by M Hansen April THIS STRORY IS ABOUT A WOMAN WITH STRONG INTUITION, AND SHARES WITH US HER DESPAIR OF A LOVED... [1,063 words]
What's Wrong With The World? by Bk Kinsel A story about the world. [172 words]
Valentine's Cupid by K J H Sienna is a fiery redhead that works for a local newspaper. She is fairly unlucky when it com... [2,873 words]
To The Fullest by Sime Sheef Peter has figured out how to drain the potential from every moment in life...but what will it co... [978 words]
The Wedding Reception by Avis - [1,893 words]
The Little Turd That Could by Michael L Phillips (Aka The Purple Monkey) A short story based on office interaction and politics. [1,052 words]
The Final Battle by Briony Carvalho Read it and you'll see! Any comments on anything I do are hugely appreciated - even if it's j... [348 words]
Sword From Heaven by Kristen Karlson A series of interconnected stories about the forms and consequences of power. [7,754 words]
Six Episodes Of Love by H Klecel - [3,199 words]
Russian Roulette: Foreshadow by Catherine Lefloy The story is about a young russian soldier that is eager to go to war, later he fi... [1,635 words]
Ordinary Day by Derek Anthony Held A short story about military families and how war tears them apart. [540 words]
Night Of The Courtesane by Charles F Kane A Dream that's more than a dream. Story with a twist. [1,243 words]
Medical-Shedical by Avis Narration of annual general medical exam. [1,548 words]
Life On The Broken Wings by Partha Pratim Majumder A young pretty girl , who is handicapped since birth , has to pass her leisure sitting... [1,860 words]
Heaven With Her by Bk Kinsel An old man dying in his bed wishing only to see the love of his life. [253 words]
Flak by Joseph Xavier Ramirez A short story about an escort fighter pilot in WW2, as he embarks on this mission he will face many challe... [1,158 words]
Escaping Reality by Monica L Sprague This is an account of a real event that has a fictional ending...the ending that I know she wa... [981 words]
Dream For An Insomniac by Rachel Joseph A short love story of a unique girl [739 words]
Downsizing by Katherine A M Corkery A confident employee at a well-established law firm enters the office ready to receive word of a pro... [1,823 words]
Confortable Darkness by Sime Sheef The world is dark and light is not welcome. It only pains the eyes. [996 words]
Cipher by Rachel Joseph The life story of a boring girl. [2,509 words]
Can't Let Him Go by Nicky Rothschild Can't Let You Go is about a girl that has fallen in love with a man that is 4 years older then... [1,442 words]
And... by Lawrence Peters For Andrew, whether you like it or not, it's yours. written in Los Angeles, where writers go to become r... [129 words]
And I Prayed Part 3 Of Awakening by Sidney Tucker Continuing from Awakening and The Journey Home A man finds the final steps to ... [1,235 words]
Alone At Dawn by Sime Sheef The tale of a man searching to resolve the pain of loosing the woman he loved. [957 words]
Go to page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 [17] 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50
| |
TITLE (EDIT)
Witchcake |
DESCRIPTION
An imaginary retelling of the beginnings of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 throught the eyes of one of the possessed young girls.
[1,491 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
History |
AUTHOR
Risa Peris |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Risa Peris has a background in law, finance and journalism. She currently writes on scientific and historical themes.
[October 2006] |
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
risaperis@gmail.com |
Witchcake
Risa Peris
This February is so frigid and damp that it feels as if the whole house is submerged in ice water. I remember a large and heavy book the Reverend had in his library. He called it an ‘Atlas’. I mouthed the word in a low whisper.
“The word is an ancient Greek derivation,” he had said. I turned the pages of the Atlas carefully. I gazed at the Artic Ocean with its many white islands suspended in the antique blue ink.
“Some are floes,” he had said. They are fragile, melting ice tablets that break away from the solid ice shelf.
“They are fledgling souls,” I said. He chuckled deeply at that.
“They are disintegrating souls. They cause the Artic to lessen in strength and stature. The souls of the floes have no courage to adhere.” That is hell; I remember thinking - coldness, dampness and lessening strength. Hell is this February in Salem Village in the Year of Our Lord 1692.
I do not know who ordered the baking of the cake. But they sent Tituba to ask for my urine. My behavior had been so strange for weeks that a request for a pot of my urine hardly seemed unusual or odd. I complied with a grunt and a grimace.
“What shall you do with it strange woman?” Tituba’s dark skin glowed like a fine copper kettle in the candlelight.
“Child, I shall mix it with rye meal and bake a cake.”
“Shall you eat it then?”
“Heavens no! I shall feed it to the dog. If he partakes of the cake then the devil resides n your soul.”
“That filthy beast eats anything. Piss or no piss.”
“That is orders.”
“Who ordered?”
“I do not know.”
“Liar! Heathen! Dark magician of the underworld.”
“Shhh! Say no such thing. I walk with the Lord.”
“You walk behind the Lord. It is the Devil you walk with.” I began to moan then. I felt a convulsion beginning in my stomach and radiating outward to my fingertips. I fell to the floor with my back arched uncomfortably toward the ceiling. It was as if I were being pulled upward by my waist with a rope. I screamed in agony. A village woman, by the name of Anne, came in and gazed open mouthed at me.
“Hurry, Tituba. Make the cake.”
I am unsure who became possessed first. My friends and I sat before the fireplace cracking egg whites into a glass of water. We were interpreting the shapes the egg whites made in the clear water. Someone shouted that they saw a man. Another saw a parasol. Another saw a shoe. Then someone saw a coffin. We halted our movements. Death swam in the glass. I exhaled slowly. My breath hung heavy in the air. Someone screamed then. I felt something break inside me. It was a Sunday tea in my soul and a delicate tea cup had been swiped to the floor. Decorum left me. Permission to act as I wished held court over my body. My friend began howling.
I was a spectacle. The town’s respected men said that the Devil resided in me. They wanted to study me. My body twitched and contorted not in agony but freedom. They wanted to know who caused the possession.
“Who brought the Devil to you, child?”
“I do not know.”
“What caused this?”
“A coffin. I saw a coffin in a glass. The Devil brought me death.”
“Dear child, is the Devil speaking to you now?”
“Yes.”
“What is he saying?”
“I cannot understand.”
“Why can’t you understand?”
“He is whispering.”
“She says the Devil whispers in her ear.” The old man turned to the Minister with a furrowed brow. The Minister places a warm hand on my head and begins to recite the Lord’s words.
“Get thee behind me Devil,” I say. “Get thee in front of me Lord.” The words calm the convulsions in my stomach. But I want to scream. I feel it bubbling in my throat. The Minister keeps talking and talking and talking. I want him to stop. I want him to remove his hand. I want no more talk of the Devil. I scream. The men stand back looking startled. I scream louder. I begin to run around the room. I throw books from the shelves.
“Leave meeeeeee alone!”
“Who did this to you?”
“Enough!”
“Who brought the Devil to you?”
“Enough!”
“In the name of Christ tell us.”
“Go away!”
“Dear Lord, help this child.”
“Leave me alone!”
“I compel you in the name of Christ.” The Minister grabs hold of my arm. His grasp is rough and strong. I do not like his hand upon me. I fall to the floor. He relinquishes his hold on me. I convulse on the floor. I arch my back upward. I feel the fabric straining at my bodice. The men surround my body. I do not flush in embarrassment. I am flushed with anger.
I usually have to share the bed with my younger sister. She sucks her thumb like a suckling pig and kicks like a young lamb when night terrors seize her. I have to fight for my square of the bed and inches of blanket. When the Devil visited my soul I twitched terribly at night and seizures thwarted the bed like a raft in a sea storm. My sister cried and whined for respite. My parents borrowed a bed by loaning out our milking cow so that I could sleep alone by the fire place. In my own bed, under massive covers and a roasting fire I was able to rest. The twitching stopped and I gazed at the glow of the moon and the shadow of the spidery branches until my eyes became heavy. The Devil did not plague me alone.
My life was halved into dark and light, good and bad, God and the Devil. Through those opposites that is how I interpreted Salem, Massachusetts, the Colonies, England and the World. My behavior was bizarre. It had deviated from what was acceptable in my Puritan world. I could only call my behavior dark, bad and devilish. It needed a source other than me. The well being of my entire community depended upon that premise.
I felt freedom from stricture and scripture those days and weeks that I was possessed. I would have continued on twisting and howling but the town’s people were getting agitated. They wanted a culprit. They wanted to punish those who sullied my innocence. They wanted a show. My friend’s and I could not continue without pointing a finger.
Tituba had rocked me as a baby. She came from the Caribbean. Father was suspicious of her Voodoo ways but I only heard her repeating the Lord’s words and bowing her head before the cross. Never once did I see her throw a toad into a pot or repeat some chant or grasp some Talisman. Her ways were Christian though she was not entirely grimly Puritan.
On the night Tituba baked the cake (before they told me whether or not the dog ate the cake) I had, with a shivering grimace, pointed my finger at Tituba. She was not present when I accused her. When they told her I could hear her cries resounding through the bleak wooden house.
“But I love that child,” she had wailed.
“You brought the Devil to her,” someone had yelled.
“No, no, no, no! I walk with the Lord,” she had screamed.
My earliest memory of Tituba was her bathing me in a metal tub with lavender soap. She sang a lovely hymn as she scrubbed my arms. She poured water over me with a pitcher and I giggled.
She brought it on herself. She claimed to have seen the Devil. I was lying soundly in my bed by the fire. She came in to check on me. She was content that I was not twitching and pulled the blankets tighter around me. Tituba then went to close the shutters of the window but she stopped and gazed for a long time out the window.
“I see a man in the barn. He has a tail. May God bless you child.” She closed the shutters then walked sadly from the room. I was frozen not with cold but with fear. Was the Devil really here? Was he in the barn? I inched slowly from the bed and crawled across the harshly cold wooden floor. I opened the shutters and peaked out the window. I was half expecting to see a horned beast but there was only deep sea darkness. I looked at the barn and saw only a wavering lantern. No man with a tail. Had he been there? Where was he now? I ran back to my bed and cried pitifully. I felt strength flowing from my body. Something had to be done. I had to gain control.
“Tell us who has done this to you child,” says Anne, a local village woman.
“Tituba,” I say. All interest in the witchcake is lost. There is now talk of something called a warrant.
|
|
Submit Your Review for Witchcake
Required fields are marked with (*).
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.
|
|
Submit Your Rating for Witchcake
|
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2006 Risa Peris |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
October 2006 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1806
|
|
