A Walk in Salem

Danika a tall, graceful and classically beautiful young woman looked out the window of a train as she makes her way to Salem, MA. She had always had a fascination with witchcraft and the ceremony that went along with it and knew Salem, held the explanation.

She arrived in early morning Halloween and hopped on one of the tradition walking tours that brought its companions to the museums and churches where accused witches were tortured and murdered. Danika was becoming more bored and disillusioned with every over done and theatrical venue, when she saw something that looked interesting. There was a woman, plainly dressed staring at one of the paintings in the most recent stop on the tour. The painting was of a woman believed to be a witch and her son. Both murdered during the trials. Danika couldn't stop looking at her and the woman turned around and gave her a nodding smile. She had long, deep brown hair and olive skin. She walked from the painting to the door of the museum, but Danika felt compelled to follow her.

She yelled, "Hello!"

"Yes?" the woman answered.

"Are you from Salem?" Danika asked.

"I guess one would say I am. However, I was not born here, but we reside here. My name is Prudence." Prudence extended her hand for a handshake.

"I'm Danika. I came here to learn about the witches, but it seems like all I'm seeing is a bunch of Halloween hoopla." She said in a friendly manner.

"That's Salem." Prudence laughed.

"Could you show me some of the real sights?" Danika asked.

"What makes you think I know anymore than your guide? I may not be able to give you as much of the complete history as he could." Prudence said in seriousness.

"I don't know why, but I feel like you could help me find out what I came here for. I have been drawn here since I can remember hearing about Salem, MA and the witch trials. I don't know why, but I can't seem to let it go." She said with honesty.

"Are you sure you want to know the true stories? They could be more disturbing then you ever imagined." Prudence warned.

"I feel like I need to know." She replied.

"Ok. Walk with me." Prudence took Danika on a walking tour of her very own. Filling her in on all the seedy truth that the tour guides didn't know and the authorities have kept silent. They came upon a little cottage style house that appeared to be lived in.

"What a lovely little place." Danika said as her eyes lit up.

"I thought you might like it. Would you like to go inside?" Prudence asked.

"Yes, I think I would. But the people who live here won't mind?" She asked.

"No, I have it on good authority, that this is the one place that you should see." Prudence assured her.

They walked into the cottage where sat a 9 year old boy. He seemed to look through Danika and she couldn't take her eyes away from his. He was beautiful, angelic and peaceful.

"Who is this Mama?" The child asked. His voice chilled Danika.

"This is Danika. She wanted to hear some real stories about the witches of Salem. Should be tell her about this house?" Prudence asked.

"I think this would be the best place to end the tour." Oliver said.

"I have to know, tell me tell me!" She demanded as if her life depended on it.

"In the fall of 1692 the family of this house welcomed new neighbors. It was a family of Russian immigrants and they had a 17-year-old daughter. She had set her sights on her new neighbor's husband. The husband denied her advances, but this spoiled, vicious girl had devised a plan. Can you guess what she did?" Prudence asked.

The story seemed so familiar to Danika and as she looked at the portrait above the sofa, the same portrait as in the museum. She stared into it, tears ran down her face and fear filled her body as she began to speak.

"She went to her father, who had become friendly with the pastor and told him she saw the neighbor's wife practicing witchcraft and that her son was helping her. She said she saw this when the husband was away at work. She did this, hoping they would be tried and killed and thinking the grieving husband would marry her. However, he killed himself out of shame once the trial began and the mother and son were murdered under suspicion that they had called upon the devil to kill him so he could not speak. The young girl never told the truth, and she never felt sorry. It's rumored the bodies of the mother and son were never found and that all that remains is a haunted painting where the spirits wait for their revenge." Danika turns her head and looks into Prudence's knowing eyes and Oliver's angelic face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Danika said.

"It isn't our forgiveness that you need. We are here because your life ended on this day and your soul will burn in the hell that you designed for us. I cannot stop that; I cannot help you because you chose only to help yourself. This life may be different, but your soul is the same." Oliver said.

"I'm dead?" Danika said with a whisper through her tears.

"Yes, and you won't come back again. You have finally returned to the scene of your crime and now all can be put to right." Prudence and Oliver look on in horror as the door opens to a place where no good soul ever sees. The darkness ushered Danika in as she pleaded for mercy.

"Mama, it is so very sad." Oliver said.

"Yes, it is, but she chose her path and stolen ours, we can walk on now where we belong." Hand in hand they walked away.