Hanged

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Introduction

June 10th,1692
My head bumped against the bottom of the cart. I swore out loud and rubbed my head. Within a couple of seconds the pain diminished and I felt as light as air. I knew that I could disappear right now if I wanted to but that wouldn't help anyone here in Salem. It would only cause more to be killed and more to be punished.
So that's why I was here, in a cart being pulled up Gallows Hill on my way to be hanged. I didn't like the fact that I would be dying in a frail old lady’s body and not something younger. Unfortunately nothing useful had come out of this life-time. But there would be another to live and another to die in.
The cart came to a sudden stop and I heard muffled groans outside of it. This is it, I thought when I heard them walking around to open the door. I had to go through being hanged and most likely being put into an important part of history while looking like I was sixty years old.
The door swung open to reveal a dark storming night and three men reaching in to grad me. I could hear people talking and the crowd roaring and knew that my hanging would be a mighty showing. Probably about a hundred people would be here which was basically the whole village. I immediately made tears wash over my face and hollered out that I was innocent a couple of times. They were expecting me to be like this, believe me, if they weren't I would be laughing at the ludicrousness of this whole thing.
I wasn't exactly innocent.
I was a full on witch. I could change my appearance (and after this I was for sure doing that). Control the all of the elements, create special remedies that help to cure the most impossible of diseases, and much more.
One morning I had been outside thinking that everyone was asleep when I had heard a outrageous scream from Ms. Tucker who had caught me turning into a cat.
There were other reasons why I was being hanged and I knew what they were clearly. I had made a few mistakes in my life but I had never liked fitting in. I was charged for being a witch because I was a gossiper, I fought in public with my husbands, had parties at night, drank, owned two taverns, lived a outrageous life compared to the other townsfolk, and dressed in stuff other women wouldn't be caught dead in.
The guys grabbed me and I forced a wail to come out of my throat. I needed to do this to make the façade seem completely and utterly real but still I felt weak. They lifted me up and carried me over to the platform where I would be hanged. They would put that rope around me and the ground would disappear beneath my feet. Afterwards they would check my breathing and pulse but I knew enough to appear dead for at least an hour.
I was near the stool now. I willed more tears to roll down my cheeks before they made me stand on the stool. The biggest man, whom I recognized as George Corwin the sheriff of Salem, grabbed the rope and forced it around my neck. It felt wrong there and abnormal.
Another man, his name unknown to me, bent down and placed his hands on the stool. He was waiting for Corwin to tell him to pull it out from under but Corwin wasn't one to leave without having the last word.
“This is for everything you've done to me and my town you witch. You knew that this was coming after your first accusation.” I rolled my eyes. This wasn't exactly the first time I had been accused of being a witch. I was blamed twelve years ago too and I had also been in court many times for the fights I had. Maybe he was right, maybe I should have expected this, but I frankly had thought living a fun life was better than fitting in.
I let go of the scared routine and spat in his face. When I saw his expression of rage I laughed viciously.
Corwin swore more and gave the other man the heads up. The man pulled the stole from under me and suddenly the world was spinning.
I lost sight for two minutes and then came around. In front of me was Corwin laughing at the sight of my now limp body. I closed my eyes and focused on the magic that I was now forcing through my body. This magic kept me both alive but also kept me looking dead. To the beholder I would look completely dead, my neck would be bruised, my body would appear limp, I wouldn't be breathing, and my heart would not have a beat. But deep inside, my heart still would be beating and I would be still alive but without needing to breath.
The crowd was still cheering. I had drowned them out the before but now I let them in. My magic was being fueled by their hate and it felt so good. I didn't care that they hated me now, because I knew that one day, surely one day they would all realize the wrong that they have done.
I waited for hours. I waited till I could hear no more voices around me, til the sun was up, and till the following day was done. Once night unfolded around me I moved my numb hands up to my neck and wrapped them around the rope. Flames covered my palms in a mater of seconds and the rope turned to ashes.
I dropped to the ground and began running as soon as the blood flowed through my body again. Gallows Hill was nothing special. I had to run a few miles before I came across my house. I lived with no one now and soon I wouldn't even live her. I ran to the door and opened it.
I was only stopping to do a couple things. First I ran upstairs and stopped dead in front of the mirror. Staring back at me was my sixty year old self-image and I gritted my false teeth. I had to change this.
Before my eyes, the old wrinkly body turned into a curvy teenage body with pale skin. My face lost all of its wrinkles and became healthy looking. I had full lips and green eyes that were surrounded with an enormous amount of eye-lashes. My hair turned from short and gray to long and black. I couldn't change the black spirals going down my arms, but I could hide them beneath my dress.
Once I changed my image, I went to the problem of my old lady clothing. I took off the clothing that I was wearing and dug through my closet to find the extra pair of clothing that fit my age more. I pulled the corset over my head and used some magic to tie the back up, put on a full skirt and draped a shawl over my shoulders. My ensemble was my normal outfit. I wore a black dress with a red paragon bodice that was bordered and loped with different colors. I didn't care if anyone recognized it, it was my favorite. Most of the townsfolk thought this was an outrageous outfit and showed off way too much skin but I thought showing off skin was fun and daring.
Next thing to do was my hair and makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror once more and decided that I couldn't do it all fast enough without using magic. So I willed my magic to course through my fingers and make my hair fall into little ringlets all around my head. A ribbon weaved itself as a headband in my hair but still some pieces fell around my face. I grabbed my bright red lipstick and put it on along with some blush.
Everything was finally set. The only thing I could bring with me was my spell book. It was a family heirloom and weighed about ten pounds flat. It was bounded in leather and had foreign words etched into it. Everything from my family history to how to kill someone with a blink of your eye was in it and if I lost it I would be cursed for life, literally.
I opened the book and found the spell for shrinking objects. It said:

To shrink an object you must have:
A gallon of salt water
4 lizard eyes
Fire
5 drops of blood
Snow
Place the salt water, blood, snow, and lizard eyes into a caldron and mix together into a paste over the fire. Once the viscosity is high take the paste a spread it over top of the object. The object and the paste will shrink until big enough to fit in a pocket.

I went into the next room and grabbed the jar of lizard eyes, a knife, a jar of snow from the basement, and a caldron. Once back in my room I set it all on the ground and started to work. First I started the fire in the fireplace with my hands and placed the caldron over top of it. I then filled the caldron up with a gallon of salt water from the secret well behind my house. The next bit was where I took the knife and cut my hand. I groaned and squeezed my hand till five drops of blood fell into he caldron. The liquid inside the caldron filled with smoke and made a hissing sound, that only increased when I added the lizard eyes in. I quickly threw in the snow and started mixing. It only took a matter of minutes to get the right viscosity.
I took the paste and spread it over the book. The book began to shrink and the paste did too. The book stopped shrinking after a moment but the paste shrunk until it was completely gone.
I tucked the book in my corset and started down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. I took out some oil and covered everything with it. I took a match and lit fire to my house.
I ran out the door and slowed my pace. The house would go up in a matter of seconds but that didn't matter to me. I was safe now. The house went up when I expected it and I said goodbye to this life.
I was close to the forest edge when I came face to face with one of the girls who started all this mess.
“You’re not supposed to be escaping you know.” Abigail Williams said to me.
“And your not suppose to be out this late.” I said pretending to be someone else but I knew it was no use.
“Who the hell cares!” She screamed.
Her eyes had gone red and she looked to be growing fangs. This made me come to the conclusion that she was a true demon and not just some hooligan girl.
Abigail had gone around town doing false acts and have many people put up for life sentences in the mean time. Once before they had caught me I had come around a street corner to find Abigail and her friends laughing about how entertaining it was that people were getting blamed for their acts.
I stepped closer to the girl and bent down to get face to face with her.
“You know I'm actually kind of happy I ran into you. They'll be suspicious if they go to Gallows Hill and find that there is no body left.” I smiled at her and reached out to touch her heart. She winced but didn't back away.
“You can't do anything to me you witch.”
“Oh... I think I can.”
Suddenly my hand lit up over her heart and Abigail began screaming. I laughed and murmured an incantation that made her screams become mute. I knew that the procedure would be painful for her but instead of guilt, I only felt pleasure.
Don't get me wrong, I'm usually not this cruel, but every once in a while in my lifetime I felt the need to do some vengeance. This isn't the first lifetime I had been accused of something and not the first time I took vengeance on someone.
Abigail form began to change before my very eyes. The image I had seen in my mirror a while ago appeared right in front of me. Here was the image of sixty year old Bridget Bishop. One that had wrinkles, baby fat everywhere, and bruises all around her neck from being hanged.
“Don't you just love magic?” I asked as I pulled my hand away from her heart.
Abigail was now crying as she looked frantically at herself. Every time I did this I got a little something from the host I was changing and this time I could tell my new gift was mind manipulation. I felt joy wash through me along with new found power.
This was how she did it all. She had used her gift to compel everyone to believe that her misbehavior had been done by someone else. Well now I was going to use it on her.
“Abby, honey, I want you to run through town right now.” I said as I looked her in the eyes. Her previous look changed to one that look like she was drunk off of love. “Scream that you are innocent and when the sheriff catches you beg for your mercy. But don't use any powers that you have to get out of this situation.” I pulled away and looked at her.
I started to walk away but as I was nearing the edge of the forest that I was going to escape into I turned around.
“Oh, and give vengeance to your friends too. I want to make sure you all pay.” I winked at her and disappeared into the forest.
Last edited by stacymcintosh on Tue Jun 28, 2011 4:15 pm, edited 2 times in total.




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Hey, It's review day and i have come to review! I don't usually review novels but here I go anyway. I'm going to take it part by part and then give you an overview.

Bridget's head bumped against the bottom of the cart. I swore out loud and rubbed my head. Within a couple of seconds the pain diminished and I felt as light as air.
It is not a good idea to suddenly switch from third person to third person, especially for one sentence.

There are also issues with your grammar. I am defiantly not the go to person for grammar tips but I can tell that your sentences need fixing up.
The plot at time can also be hard to understand, Is this person a witch? Because they talk like a modern day teen. Although this is not always a bad thing, it does generate intrigue.

I'm running out of time so I only have written a little I might come back and finish this off. Sorry
Stay gold, Ponyboy - S.E. Hinton




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Wow, Bridget is very witchy. Nice job on her, she is a very interesting character. I thought it was funny how she hates her body and that is the main thing she is worried about even though she is going to be hanged in a few minutes.
The one think I didn't like was I thought there was a little unnecessary swearing. That is about my only complaint, the only other thing was a small typo I noticed,
I lived with no one now and soon I wouldn't even live her.

I think you meant 'here' not 'her'
Well keep it up~ Dragongirl
"Every writer I know has trouble writing." - Joseph Heller

~ A word to the wise ain't necessary, it's the stupid ones who need advice.~
- Bill Cosby




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Hello. My name is Em and I will be reviewing your story.
Brace yourself for my harsh criticisms...
Introduction

June 10th,1692

Bridget's head bumped against the bottom of the cart. This is just kind of thrown in here. Who is Bridget? Is she Bridget? Why is she randomly referring to herself in third person? I swore out loud and rubbed my head. Within a couple of seconds the pain diminished and I felt as light as air. I knew that I could disappear right now if I wanted to but that wouldn't help anyone here in Salem. It would only cause more to be killed and more to be punished.
So that's why I was here, in a cart being pulled up Gallows Hill about on my way (otherwise it sounds like you're hanging the cart which would be completely ridiculous...) to be hanged. I didn't like the fact that I would be dieing dying in a frail old ladies lady's body and not something else younger. It was actually verysadly because nothing useful had come out of this life-time. But then again there would be another to live and another to diein.
The cart came to a sudden stop and I heard muffled groans outside of it. Is she blind-folded? Because I don't think encased carts were particularly common in the 1690s... "This was is it," I thought when I heard them walking around to open the door. I had to go through being hanged and most likely being put into an important part of history while looking like I was sixty years old.
Fuck. The word "fuck" was not a common cuss word until the 60s. The 1960s... so I would change this. Also if you haven't already, rate this at 16 because many people find "fuck" rather highly offensive.
The door swung Oh, a door is mentioned! Great. If you could do some more of this kind of cart-type imagery at the beginning though that would be great. open to reveal a dark storming night and three men reaching in to grab me. I could hear people talking and the crowd roaring and knew that my hanging would be a mighty showing. Probably about a hundred people would be here which was basically the whole village. I immediately made tears wash over my face and hollered out that I was innocent a couple of times. They were expecting me to be like this, believe me; if they weren't I would be laughing at the ludicrouslyness of this whole thing.
I wasn't exactly innocent.
I was a full on witch. I could change my appearance (and after this I was for sure doing that). Control the all of the elements, create special remedies that help with to cure the most impossible of diseases to cure, and much more. I had made the mistake once of turning into a cat in the morning not a big deal unless you mention someone by name. Throwing in a "when nosy old Mrs. Hubbard was working in her garden next door and saw me" and you add more depth to the story, and here I was, about to be hanged.
There were other reasons why I was being hanged and I knew what they were clearly. I had made a few mistakes in my life but I had never liked fitting in. I was charged for being a witch because I was a gossiper, I fought in public with my husbands, had parties at night, drank, owned two taverns, lived a outrageous life compared to the other townsfolk, and dressed in stuff other women wouldn't even attempt be caught dead in.
The guys grabbed me and I forced a wail to come out of from my throat. I felt so weak by doing that. random sentence. If you're going to say she felt weak, mention her telling herself it was necessary for the facade. They lifted me up and carried me over to the rope that was tied on the tree. Weren't public hangings usually on some sort of platform? I know that in the Scarlet Letter Salem had a platform that they used for the judgement of most people... Underneath it was a stool that I had to stand on to get the rope around my throat and I knew that they would take it out from under me. Afterwords they would check my breathing and pulse but I knew enough to appear dead for at least an hour.
I was near the stool now. I willed more tears to roll down my cheeks before they made me stand on the stool. The biggest man, whom I recognized as George Corwin, the sheriff of Salem, grabbed the rope and forced it around my neck. It felt wrong there and abnormal.
Another man, his name beingunknown to me, bent down and placed his hands on the stool. He was waiting for Corwin to tell him to pull it out from under me but Corwin wasn't one to leave without saying having the last word.
“This is for everything you've done to me and my town you bitch again with the modern-day cussing. Try googling 17th century curse words.... You knew that this was coming after your first accusation.” I rolled my eyes. This wasn't exactly the first time I had been accused of being a witch. I was accused try a synonym. like indicted or charged or blamed. twelve years ago too and I had also been in court many times for the fights I had. Maybe he was right, maybe I should have expected this, but I frankly had thought living a fun life was better than fitting in.
I let go of the scared routine and spat in his face. When I saw his describe the expresion. Is he furious? shocked? disgusted? what? expression at that I laughed viciously.
Corwin swore more and gave the other man the heads up. The man pulled the stole from under me and suddenly the world was spinning.
I lost sight for two minutes and then came around. In front of me was Corwin laughing at the sight of my now limp body. I closed my eyes and focused on the magic that I was now forcing through my body. This magic kept me both alive but also kept me looking dead. To the beholder I would look completely dead, my neck would be bruised, my body would appear limp, I wouldn't be breathing, and my heart would not have a beat. But deep inside, my heart still would be beating and I would be still alive but without needing to breath.
The crowd was still cheering. I had drowned them out the whole time before but now I let them in. My magic was being fueled by their hatred and it felt so good. I didn't care that they hated me now, because I knew that one day, surely one day they would all realize the wrong that they had done.
I waited for hours. I waited til I could hear no more voices around me, til the sun was up, and til the following day was done. Once night unfolded around me I moved my numb hands up to my neck and wrapped them around the rope. Flames covered my palms in a mater of seconds and the rope turned to ashes.
I dropped to the ground and began running as soon as the blood flowed through my body again. Gallows Hill was nothing special. I had to run a few miles before I came across my house. I lived with no one now and soon I wouldn't even live here. I ran to the door and opened it.
I was only stopped her stopping to do a couple things. First I ran upstairs and stopped dead in front of the mirror. Staring back at me was my sixty year old self-image and I gritted my false teeth. I had to change this.
Before my eyes, the old wrinkly body turned into a curvy teenage body with pale skin. My face lost all of its wrinkles and became healthy looking. I had full lips and green eyes that were surrounded with an enormous amount of eye-lashes. My hair turned from short and gray to long and black. I couldn't change the black spirals going down my arms, but I could hide them beneath my dress.
Once I changed my image, I addressed the problem of my old lady clothing. I took off the clothing that I was wearing and dug through my closet to find the extra pair of clothing that fit my age more. I pulled the corset over my head and used some magic to tie the back up, put on a full skirt and draped a shawl over my shoulders. My ensemble was my normal outfit. I wore a black dress with a red paragon bodice that was bordered and looped with different colors. I didn't care if anyone recognized it; it was my favorite. Most of the townsfolk thought this was an outrageous outfit and showed off way too much skin, but I thought showing off skin was fun and daring.
Next thing to do was my hair and makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror once more and decided that I couldn't do it all fast enough without using magic. So I willed my magic to course through my fingers and make my hair fall into little ringlets all around my head. A ribbon weaved itself as a headband in my hair but still some pieces fell around my face. I grabbed my bright red lipstick and put it on along with some blush.
Everything was finally set. The only thing I could bring with me was my spell book. It was a family heirloom and weighed about ten pounds flat. It was bounded in leather and had foreign words etched into it. Everything from my family history to how to kill someone with a blink of your eye was in it and if I lost it I would be cursed for life, literally.
I opened the book and found the spell for shrinking objects. It said:

To shrink an object you must have:
A gallon of salt water
4 lizard eyes
Fire
5 drops of blood
Snow
Place the salt water, blood,snow, and lizard eyes into a caldron and mix together into a paste over the fire. Once the viscosity is high take the paste a spread it over top of the object. The object and the paste will shrink until big enough to fit in a pocket.

I went into the next room and grabbed the jar of lizard eyes, a knife, a jar of snow from the freezer freezer?, and a caldron. Once back in my room I set it all on the ground and started to work. First I started the fire in the fireplace with my hands and placed the caldron over top of it. I then filled the caldron up with a gallon of salt water from the special tap running water? that I had set up. The next bit was where I took the knife and cut my hand. I groaned and squeezed my hand til five drops of blood fell into the caldron. The liquid inside the caldron filled with smoke and made a hissing sound, but that only increased when I added the lizard eyes in. I quickly threw in the snow and started mixing. It only took a matter of minutes to get the right viscosity.
I took the paste and spread it over the book. The book began to shrink and the paste did too. The book stopped shrinking after a moment but the paste shrunk until it was completely gone.
I tucked the book in my bra bra? not the most common thing in the 1690s... and started down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. I went to the stove and turned it on high not a wood stove? then walked to the closet by the front door. I took out some oil and covered everything with it. I took a match and lit fire to my house.
I ran out the door and slowed my pace. The house would go up in a matter of seconds but that didn't matter to me. I was safe now. The house went up when I expected it and I said goodbye to this life.
I was close to the forest edge when I came face to face with one of the girls who started all this mess.
“You aren't suppose to be escaping you know.” Abigail Williams said to me.
“And you're not supposed to be out this late.” I said pretending to be someone else but I knew it was no use.
“Who the hell cares!” She screamed. I realized quickly that this girl was a true demon not just someone who acted like one.and how did you come to that conclusion?
Her eyes had gone red and she looked to be growing fangs. ah, I see. Well, that previous sentence should go after this one. I laughed because I knew no matter what she was she was no match against me. I had faced every known demon and knew how to defeat even those who were unknown. What? How can you know that which is unknown? 'Tis an oxymoron.
I stepped closer to the girl and bent down to get face to face with her.
“You know I'm actually kind of happy I ran into you. They'll be suspicious if they go to Gallows Hill and find that there is no body left.” I smiled at her and reached out to touch her heart. She winced but didn't back away.
“You can't do anything to me you witch.”
“Oh... I think I can.”
Suddenly my hand lit up over her heart and Abigail began screaming. I laughed and murmured an incarnation I think you mean "incantation". "Incarnation" means "in the flesh"... and you can't really murmur that. Unless it is an incarnation incantation?that made her screams become mute. I knew that the procedure would be painful for her but instead of guilt, I only felt more pleasure.
Don't get me wrong, I'm usually not this cruel, but every once in a while in my lifetime I felt the need to do some vengeance. This isn't the first lifetime I had been accused of something and not the first time I've given vengeance. You take vengeance. You don't "give" or "do" it.
Abigail's form began to change before my very eyes. The image I had seen in my mirror a while ago appeared right in front of me. Here was the image of sixty year old Bridget Bishop. One that had wrinkles, baby fat everywhere, and bruises all around her neck from being hanged.
“Don't you just love magic?” I asked as I pulled my hand away from her heart.
Abigail was now crying as she looked frantically at herself. I felt joy wash through me along with new found power. again, you have the thought-concluding sentence before the logical thought process. It can be a very confusing thing for the reader. Every time I did this I got a little something from the host I was changing and this time I could tell my new gift was mind manipulation.
This was how she did it all. She had used her gift to compel everyone to believe that her misbehavior had been done by someone else. Well now I was going to use it on her.
“Abby, honey, I want you to run through town right now.” I said as I looked her in the eyes. Her previous look changed to one that look like she was drunk off of love. “Scream that you are innocent and when the sheriff catches you beg for your mercy. But don't use any powers that you have to get out of this situation.” I pulled away and looked at her.
I started to walk away but as I was nearing the edge of the forest that I was going to escape into I turned around.
“Oh, and give vengeance to your friends too. I want to make sure you all pay.” I winked at her and disappeared into the forest.

Alright, you will probably hate me for this but I am going to be perfectly honest with you:
I had many issues with your story.
First: You say your character is living in Salem, 1692, but your dialogue and the commodities at Bridget's house say otherwise. It kills the illusion for the reader. Instead of seeing images of a crazed 17th century town, I kept seeing time-travelling witch-girl wreaking havoc on 17th century town by bringing her hip modern lingo and household appliances. Like freezers. and running water.
Second: At the beginning your character was agreeable. While I didn't outright love her, I did understand what she was going through and felt for her. By the end, I kind of hated her. which made me not want to read more about her life. So I would suggest toning down her revenge or making Abigail and the other girls way more evil. Or at least describing their evil ways so that we as readers can despise them as much as your MC does.
Thirdly: There were very many grammatical errors here. I realize a good number were just typos but some were weirdly-worded sentences and improperly/overly used words. Look in a thesaurus there and again. Also, unless you are used to using a word, don't try throwing it in your writing or it will sound odd and mess up the flow. Or worse, you could do like I did in fourth grade and go thesaurus crazy with a paper and end up mis-using all of the words I found. If you want to get used to using higher vocabulary, speak with it around your house and stuff. This will help you when you are giving different characters different voices.
Lastly: You switched your verb tenses several times between present, present progressive, past, and past progressive. I completely missed this the first read-through but I have been editing your piece for an hour and a half and, quite frankly, am too tired to go back and fix them for you.

Overall, I rather liked this. Your imagery was really good and your story line seems intriguing. Your character, while not always the most likeable fascinates me with her abilities which I would love to know more about. Just make sure you read over your work next time before you post. I think you'll catch a lot of errors that way.
Above all, Keep writing!
toodles!
Em
(Sorry for completely attacking your paper with my grammatical evils...)
My sister: I'll never forget that day... It was raining wasn't it?
Me: ...no.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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**previously known as EAHailstone**



I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.
— Margaret Atwood