Free at Last

Freedom! I have been saying this word all day, kissing the ground, kissing my husband, kissing everything I have not touched for two years. And were it not for my being a modest Christian I would have kissed my new master too, for he I am sure is the saint that I have never stopped praying for thees 13 months. He paid the 7 pounds that my old master, wicked Reverend Parris, and bought John too, so we are together and free from the terribel people of Salem.

It is strange how quickly this all happened and then stopped happening. I hear now that many people believe everything was made up, and maybe it was. I know I made up what I said, and I thought that no one else did, but now I thinks it may be so. And sometimes that makes me sad, or actually guilty, becuase I think maybe Tituba started this. But I was not the first to say it, and I was not the last. I did what the white people forced me to do to survive. And now I am free from jail again, and for this I believe that God thinks I did the right thing too.

Long Time, No See

Hello reader! It has been almost 1 year since you have heard from me. I am sorry if this not knowing of me was worrysome. It is just only there is not much to write about in prison, and I grew very weary because I stayed in jail more than anyone of the witches (I know why - it is because they care more about the white people than the black). But no longer I will be weary, because now I have some hope! Yesterday, after traveling many miles to Ipswich,  a jury of wonderful persons chose not to condemn me as a witch. I felt relief rush through me like a warm honey, and somehow this warm feeling gave me some courage, and I told the court the truth. I told them that I was not a witch, and that my confession was a lie, and that I did not know anything about Goody Goode or Goody Osborne or anybody being a witch. It is strange, but being so long in prison, I had started to believe that yes I am a witch, so I am very glad I said this.

Reverend Parris my master was not very glad though. I think he is embarrassed because now people know that there were no witches, and it make Betty crazy. So he did not pay for me to be free! I work for this selfish man for 20 years, and he cannot pay 7 pounds. I am no witch, but I think maybe Reverend Parris knows the Devil, for this is no forgiving Christian minister who cannot pay 7 pounds (and beats his slaves). So I must stay in jail for now, but I have hope that any day Mr. Parris will find love again and pay my freedom and I can come home to him and my husband (I even miss Betty, but I know she will hate me), and hope is all the diference.

More Death in the Village

Sarah Good deserved to be executed because she practiced voodoo and brought a lot of pain to her afflicted.  She died and I am not ashamed.  Remember, she led the village to this in the beggining like i. I told them she was a witch, and I was shure of it.  They hurt the children, her and Sarah Osborne. They became winged creatures, wild and feroshus.  I saw them with my own two eyes.  Sarah, with her dying breth sayd if they take away her life God will give them blood to drink.  Her curses barely ended with her death.  With so many being questioned and killed and accussed, i wonder how this becomed such an ordeal.  My confesshun to the court was based on the pressures I fealt.  How did it turn out to be this way?

The Death of A Fellow Witch

I am to blame for the death of Sarah Osborne.  Being blamed myself, I jumped to her because she and Sarah Good joined in.  I Rid upon a stick or poale & Good & Osburne behind me we Ride taking hold of one another don't know how we goe for I Saw noe trees nor path, but was presently there. But Sarah Good named her first, and I just agreed.  But everyone is so quick to blame me, and I feel the guilt.  Even though just yesterday I was released because of insuficient evidene in the investigayshin.  I’m always the one to be blamed, hurt, harasssed.  My culture and my skin keep me standing out and blamed.  At least my master Reverend Parris fealt that way.  But I think it is my job to serve his family without werrying about those things.  

After I Make A Cake, All Eyes on Me

Oh no! I live in fear because my helping and making a cake haz made me blamed for the fits.  They call it counter majik.  They think I am conspiring with the Devil. I don’t do such a thing.  I just know how to make a cake because my Mistress in my own country did those things.  I think there’s a rumor that they will arrest me, I sure hope that I am not punished too hard.  My job gives me enough punishment… I love Reverend Parris very much, but he is so harsh.  I think my dark skin maybe makes me different to him.  He shouldn’t blame me, but I fear he will.  The girls too...they were not raised here like girls in my country were raised.  Always they worry, never they’re happy.  

The Worst Cake I Have Ever Made

You know, reader, from wat I have written that I am a good slave, and you know from my last wriging that I was worried about Abigail Willaims and my Betty when they began complaining. I want to make sure you know that, because then you will understand that I was only trying to help. For something terrible has happened to me, and I fear that the others in the village will not understand. Mary Sibley, our neighbor and a good woman I think, told me and my husband to make something she called a witchcake. My people have a similar belief about these cakes, but this kind I have not made before then: We mixed the bodyly fluids of the girls with some rye and fed it to the dog. And by some strange countermagic the girls said my name, that Tituba was harming them. I am not harming them! I think Ms. Sibley maybe has done something strange (she has never liked me, but this is not because she is bad, because all white woman don't like me mostly). But I hope I the Parris family knows this is not true; this is all I have.

Betty Parris and Abigail Williams Are Having Fits!

Abigail Willaims and Betty Parris complained of witchcraft posessing them yesterday.  They ware in the houce and sudenly started having fits, and became tareblely ill very quickely. They were bitten and pinched by invisible agents; their arms, necks, and backs turned this way and that way, and returned back again, so as it was impossible for them to do of themselves, and beyond the power of any Epileptick Fits, or natural Disease to effect. The girls were tareblely sick and would be struk numm at anytime. The Reverend, my master who I fear and love, called a doctor to chek them two.  The girls are special to me, my little ones.  I tend to their needs and their family, ya remember.  They did not get no better, they did get more sick.  Willaim Griggs did not say they were sick, he said they is under an Evil Hand...witchcraft is in Salem! The Reverend just keeps on his life going and will not stop preaching for nothing.  He preeches that the Devil was sending these afflictions to his girls.  He will not stand and watch God punish His people.  They did not eat in this house for some days.  They tried to scare the Devil away.  I wonder what will come of the girls and what will happin to the village.