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Never Forgotton

by trackgal6

Sorry this took so long to post. I've been out of town a lot and haven't had a lot of time to write.

I think this should go with chapter one because they are both so short, you know, with the little *** between them. :D Tell me what you think.


Betty Parris screamed and doubled over. “Fingernails! They’re pinching, scratching. Stop them, they hurt me!”

Abigail Williams, her cousin, followed her, and collapsed. “AGH!”

The five other girls did the same. Just as soon as they had started, they stopped. Seconds later, Minister Parris ran outside to the road where they all lay on their backs, rolling on the dirt road, after scratching themselves.

“Look, look what they did to my arms! Look at us. Help us Daddy, please.”

“Who is it this time girls? Please tell. Betty, are you okay?” Betty noticed his voice showed fear and she was pleased. She had already picked out the next victim, and spit out the name.

“It was Dorcas Good, that awful little child.”

“She is the daughter of that other witch, Sarah Good.” Seventeen year old Mercy put in. Abigail nodded.

Minister Parris nodded and strode away quickly to the town square to inform the townspeople.

As soon as he was out of sight, Betty snickered.

Mercy gave her a quick glance. “Betty, this isn’t right. People are dying. I mean, a four year old? Dorcas is so young! How low can you stoop you little… Someone is eventually going to find out that we were lying!”

“What, you think they would tell after what happened to that John Proctor? They are so afraid of being killed, they would never mention it. And besides, it is their word against ours, and we can just scratch ourselves and say that they did it! I mean, are you not tired of always being treated differently because we are little unimportant girls? I am, and this way, we are getting attention. Everyone knows us now, is that not what you wanted?”

“I guess,” Mercy admitted.

“Alright, we have got to find that girl Dorcas,” said Ann Putnam.

“Why?” asked Betty scrunching up her nose.

“We have to go act like she is hurting us again. It will be more convincing if she is close to us when it happens!”

“Oh, fine then, if you wish,” Betty retorted.

They were almost into the town square when Minister Parris appeared.

“I told the people about it. Since she is a child, she will only be put into jail. You all be careful, I don’t like the fact that you are out among so many people, all who could be waiting to hurt you."

They nodded intently.

As soon as he was gone, all 7 heads turned to the jail. It was small and cramped, made of two cells, each crammed with about thirty people. It smelled of rotting, dead animals. They were out in the open where all could see, and many people threw whatever they had at the prisoners through the weak metal bars.

There usually were not any jail breaks because it was such a small town. Everyone saw those that were in jail every time they walked by. They knew who these people were and would gladly turn them in if they escaped.

Ann broke the silence, “That’s worse than being hanged. How awful would it be to have to stay there you whole life!”

“That is where Dorcas will be spending the rest of her life!” Betty giggled.

“I don’t know why you picked her, she is only a child. She didn’t do

anything to you!” Mercy commented.

“You have to have a balance of people or it will look like we are only picking on people we don’t like!” Betty informed her quickly.

“That’s what we are doing!”

“Mercy, are you one of us or not?” Ann questioned.

Mercy sighed submissively and continued walking. All of the sudden, there was a loud tear as Betty’s dress snagged on a rock and ripped all the way up to the bodice.

“Ugh! Ugh!” Betty began screaming, stomping her feet into the loose dirt, kicking it all over herself and the other girls. She grabbed the back of her dress, bunching the thick cotton fabric up in her fist, embarrassed at first, but then realizing she could blame this on a witch. Everyone turned to look at her, and right then, she caught sight of poor little Dorcas Good.

“It’s Dorcas, she’s doing it again!” The other girls began shrieking, shredding their dresses like Betty, as Dorcas just sat there, looking completely innocent in her short dress and over-sized bonnet.

For a moment, everyone stood, turning their heads from side to side looking for Dorcas.

“There!” shouted a woman, pointing. Everyone stepped away from Dorcas and began shouting foul things at her. They chanted about witches and threw things. Dorcas started crying but everyone ignored her and turned to the girls. Their dresses lay in shreds on the ground, their bonnets buried in the dirt. Everyone was watching then, even those who were peering through the bars in the jail.

Betty was happy, she was getting more attention than she ever had in her life. She looked at the other girls, and saw Mercy standing there, her dress the least shredded of all, with a few tears on the bottom, and her bonnet resting crooked on her tossed about hair.

Betty watched as Mercy shook the dirt off of her, and thanked the people who had helped her up. She nodded and turned to walk home.

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25 Reviews

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Reviews: 25

Wed Jun 13, 2007 5:51 pm
trackgal6 says...

Thanks for the tips! You're right about the 'Daddy' thing, I just completely overlooked it. :D I'll go make those changes now.

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1175 Reviews

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Wed Jun 13, 2007 4:32 pm
Twit wrote a review...

Those girls are *nasty*. :twisted:

Is this set during the Salem Witch trials, or around that same time in history? If so, I think you should change the "Daddy" to something more archaic, like "Father" or "Pa" or "Papa" or whatever.

Good! Well writ, but you could add a bit more description in places. Like here:

trackgal6 wrote:They chanted about witches and threw things.

Say what those things are, describe the scene more graphically. :) And perhaps you could rewrite the dress-taring scene in more detail, making it more realistic, like Betty fell, or she caught it on a branch? That she snagged on a rock is a bit implausible.

Apart from that, it's fine!


There is a difference between being poor and being broke: broke is temporary; poor is eternal.
— Robert Kiyosaki