Claire Shearer

Dave Anderson
Talking Heads
05/11/15

The Story of Salem

Everyone has heard of the events that shook Massachusetts. I know that one day
everyone will know the story. Well, at least they think they will. There is some truth in the
Salem Witch Trials; there was a witch that started the frenzy. Something like this does not just
happen by itself, and anyone who denies it would be silly. What people make the mistake of
thinking is that the trials actually got rid of the witch. Just because the trials ended does not
mean that the witch was caught.
My name is Mary Blanchard, and I am seventeen years old. I live in a sleepy little village
called Salem, which is located in Essex county Massachusetts. Life in Salem is very simple and
so are the people. Our town is structured like most of the surrounding towns with the farmland
surrounding and the houses in the center (which was actually the perfect set up). Most of my
town is a farming community or involved with the trade that happens on the east end of the town
by the bay.
My parents, David and Mary, are farmers on the west end of town which was
predominantly controlled by the Putnam family. I have four older brothers and one younger
sister. My oldest brother is Charles and he is 25 years old. He is married to Anne Gables. Then
come the twins, David and Paul, they are 23, and then Matthew, who is 20. My younger sister is
15 years old and her name is Lydia. My family was perfect. Every day, my brothers go to help
father farm in our fields. Mother puts Lydia and I to work in the house, but there was always that
time in the afternoon before dinner and after the afternoon chores that I had to go off and do
whatever I wanted. During my free time, I told my parents I was going for a walk, which was

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partly true. I did go for a walk, but that was not all I did. After I pass our fields, and into the
woods I would start my secret play.
My secret play is not what most people would guess. It started out as innocent
play. I had been going to this part of the forest since I was a very young girl, probably eight, and
nothing strange had ever happened. But then one day I found a small white book waiting for me
in the clearing where I liked to play house. I had not learned to read but something inside of me
compelled me to pick up the book and try to read it. The symbols were strange and looked like
an ancient text, like from the indian tribes that lived in these parts before we came but somehow
I understood what the book said. The book talked about communicating with beautiful spirits,
spells for good luck, and helping others. I quickly became fascinated with the idea of magic and I
read the book from cover to cover with the intentions of becoming a benevolent white witch. I
started spending more time by myself working on mastering the books content. I used my new
found abilities to help the people of the community: I tried to adapt the weather for better
growing seasons, and blessed the soil to make it more fertile. I also placed four leaved clovers on
my neighbor's doorsteps, and horseshoes filled to the brim with luck. My intentions for dabbling
in the occult were purely innocent, but I soon became obsessed with the ideas of power and
control.
Now I wont say that it was completely my parents fault that I turned to dark magic, but
they were a large part of it. When I turned fifteen I began experiencing problems with some of
the girls in the village, particularly with Ann Putnam, Elizabeth Hubbard, Mary Warren, Mercy
Lewis, and Mary Walcott. They constantly made fun of me for being alone, not having any
friends, and going on my walks in the woods. I did not know what to do. Ann and Elizabeth were
several years younger than me and I had never done anything to them. In fact, I had blessed all of

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their families with good weather, and beautiful fields for several years. I decided to talk with my
parents about the problems I was encountering, but when I walked in I heard a conversation that
would change my outlook on life forever.
As I approached the house I heard the hushed whispers of my parents so I leaned into the
door to hear what they were saying. My parents were discussing their concerns for me and my
solitude. They were concerned that being alone was not healthy for a fifteen year old girl and
talking about how they had seen me muttering to myself out in the fields. They were worried I
had started dabbling in the occult. I stopped in my tracks. If my parents agreed with the girls that
were teasing me then they wanted me to stop practicing magic. I ran off the porch in tears, to the
only place that I had ever felt comfort. As I entered my little clearing in the forest I began
frantically searching for my little white book, but it was not where I left it. I continued into the
forest desperately trying to find my book. I quickly got lost, and the sun started to sink below
the horizon. As the moon rose I stumbled into a large clearing, and in the center was a man
deathly pale and cloaked in black. In his hands he held two books. One was blank, and the other
was as dark as ebony with same spiraling texts I had seen in my white book. He handed the
second book to me and started to say something when I heard a twig snap and I turned my head
to see what made the noise. Behind me was my brother Charles, he had a concerned look on his
face and whispered my name softly, Mary. I turned around to see if the strange man was still
there but he had disappeared into the night. I turned back to Charles as I heard him saying,
Mary, what are you looking at? I did not answer. I just ran up to him and started to cry. Charles
scooped me up into his arms and carried me back to home. He never asked me what was wrong,
or why I was out in the forest. He just carried me home and put me in bed.

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When I woke up the next morning my mother was hovering over my bed. She informed
me that she was concerned for my mental health and wanted me to spend time with some of the
other girls in town. Since mother had Lydia to help with the chores around the house, I was
charged with spending time in town among my peers. All this did was agitate me more. When I
arrived home that night from a miserable day in town, I opened up the black book and began
reading it. Like the white book it was filled with the same ancient writing but the content was
much darker. As I read the book I felt connected to what was being said and through it I would
learn the secrets of using black magic.
When I turned seventeen I succeeded in learning the pinnacle of black magic and that
night I got to meet my teacher, and master. It was going to be a full moon, the perfect conditions
for summoning the evil one. I walked out to the big clearing in the woods where I had received
my black book and began preparations for summoning the devil. At midnight I succeeded. In the
center of my clearing stood a pale man cloaked in all black. In his hands were the same blank
book I had seen my first night in the clearing, and in his other was a black feather quill, and a
bone knife. He opened the book for me, and said You must sign your name in blood. I took the
knife from him and made a small incision on my arm; I made sure to cut along a scar I had
received when I fell off a horse so it would be well hidden. I then took the quill, dipped it in my
blood and signed his book, Mary Blanchard. I was now a bound servant of the dark one.
Together he and I launched a plan to take down the puritan community in Salem, one that would
shake the town to its core and would end in hysteria.
I put my plan into motion in January of 1692. As I was walking through town I noticed
little Betty and Abigail wandering off into an abandoned building on the edge of town. Why were
those little girls going there? I quickly followed them, and circled around the building until I

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found a window I could use to look inside. As I peered through the window I saw Betty, Abigail,
and a dark form that might have been Bettys slave Tituba. The girls were bent over an egg and a
glass. I had read about this in my white book: they were trying to see visions of their future
husbands. I was appalled. These girls were attempting to do the same kind of magic that I had
once gotten rejected for. I knew right then that these girls would be the key to my plan. I made
my way back to my clearing in the forest which I decided to call it Hecates Circle after the
Goddess of magic. In the center of clearing I drew a pentagram where I could summon my
master. At the far end, there was a large tree with a hollow knot in it, which was where I kept
my book and witchs tools. I walked to the center of the pentagram and summoned the Dark One.
Fire erupted around me, blisters appeared on my wrists, and the Dark One emerged from the
fire. I told the devil of my plan to use Abigail, Betty, and my other bullies as the impetus for the
witch hunt we were about to start. The devil agreed with my plans and gave me the tools I would
need to accomplish my task. I stayed in Hecates Circle until dusk working my dark magic. By
the end of the night I had constructed dolls for each of the girls. They would later be called the
Afflicted Ones. I threw Abigail's and Bettys dolls into an ants nest. The next day Abigail and
Betty began acting peculiarly. They claimed that they are being bitten and pinched by invisible
insects. Worried for their health, the families called the doctor but no one could figure out the
cause of the girls strange afflictions.
January turned into February and there were no developments or leads in the cases of
Betty and Abigail. Unable to find a cause for the girls ailments the doctor concluded they had
been bewitched. (It really took them a long time to figure it out, youd think it would have been
obvious). Now that the dimwitted doctor finally figured out what the cause of the girls ailments
was, I was able launched into the next phase of my plan. I began to make the other girls

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strangely ill. I took off for Hecates Circle and began working on afflicting Mary Warren, Mercy
Lewis, and Mary Walcott. They would suffer as much as Abigail and Elizabeth. Because of the
intensity of their fits and sickness, the girls were unable to identify who their inflictor was but I
had come up with a solution for this problem. I used the training I had in white magic to plant the
idea in Mary Sibelys (Mary Walcotts aunt) mind that white magic would be able to counteract
the black curse that had been put upon them. It worked. By late February, Mary Sibley had asked
Tituba and her husband John to make a witch cake with the girls urine in order to cure the girls.
I of course knew that the white magic they were trying to conjure would have very little effect on
my own magic. It would only give the girls the ability to identify the witch that had cast the spell
on them. All I had to do was make sure they accused the wrong people. I had recently read in
my black book how to implant images into someone's mind, and I planned to utilize this
technique throughout the mayhem I was about to cause.
The first unfortunate victims of this delusion were Tituba, Sarah Good, and Sarah
Osborne - mostly because they were the easiest targets. Tituba had the easiest mind to break into
and since she had admitted to making the witch cake, people were eager to believe her
testimonies. Tituba had also been owned by a witch in Barbados which made her even more
susceptible to my mind games. During her trial, Tituba stated that Sarah Good had signed the
Devil's book and that she herself had made contact with him. She also said that Sarah Good and
Osborne had been there as well and she had seen all of their names in the Devils book along
with two witches from Boston. All of these hallucinations were easy to place in Titubas mind. I
simply projected Hecates circle and modified memories of my encounter with the Dark One.
Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne were easy to get convicted, both of them had dubious reputations
in the community. Sarah Goods family turned against her and her husband even stated she was a

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witch. Sarah Osborne had not attended church in over a year (a crime in a strictly puritan
community). The best part with Good and Osborne was that I did not need to place images in
anyone's heads. They did that to themselves.
On March 22 of 1692, Rebecca Nurse was accused of witchcraft and soon after Dorcas
Good, Sarah Goods five year daughter was as well. These two are some of my proudest pieces
of works. It really illustrated the power of fear among the community. I was able to pass off two
completely innocent people as witches. It took little to no prodding with my powers and it was
amazing! Rebecca Nurse was a model citizen. She regularly attended church, and did not have
any record of angry outbursts. This is why when I had the Afflicted Girls accuse her of
witchcraft, the judge John Hathorne, had no idea what to do with the accusations. He longed to
believe Rebecca because she was a religious person, but at the same time he could not throw
aside the accusations of the Afflicted Girls. Rebecca prayed continuously throughout her trial to
her so called god that he would prove her innocence. My power was obviously greater than his
because in the end Rebecca was convicted of witchcraft and sent to prison. It was a hard case for
me to win but my success in the case was due to the trial of Dorcas Good, and her confession to
witchcraft. It is actually hilarious to me, the town actually believed a confession of a five year
old, do they not know how easy it is to manipulate the mind of a child? The town had recently
come up with several ways to test for signs of witchcraft one of which they used on Dorcas: the
Devils Mark (haha they finally got one right). But testing for the Devils Mark is much trickier
than they realised. The dog that the Good family owned was infested with fleas and Dorcas had a
couple bites on her body, particularly one on her forefinger. From there it was simple, I altered
the little girls memory so that she thought a snake had been sucking her blood from that spot.
When Dorcas Good told the town this it was a considered a confession of witchcraft. this along

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with the Devils Mark was enough to have the girl sent to prison. The convictions of Dorcas and
Rebecca sent the town into a craze. If a five year old, and a highly religious women were witches
then the witch problem was much more extensive than they had originally thought.
I remember the first hanging vividly. It was June 10th, up on Gallows Hill. The sun was
shining bright. Not a single cloud in the sky. The grass was bright green and the field was
covered in little white flowers (kinda symbolic in a way), and the whole town came to watch as
Bridget Bishop was executed. I did not really have any problems with Bridget, she just happened
to be one of my unfortunate victims. Well all of them were unfortunate victims. I also remember
the death of Giles Corey quite vividly and I honestly thought that his death was the most
hilarious. That stubborn man could have saved himself so much pain if he simply stood trial for
the crimes he had committed, but then again he never committed any crimes. There was this old
law that stated that if a man refused to answer the questions presented to him he could not be
tried, and this is what Giles Corey chose to do. However the law did not prohibit torture, which
is exactly what the town gave him. Giles Corey had a reputation for being argumentative and
violent, so the town went to extreme measures to try and get him to stand trial or confess.
Eventually Giles would be pressed to death. I found the entire event funny. They took Giles
stripped him down and covered him with a wooden plank and then slowly added stones one by
one on top of him, until he died. The death was slow and painful, just the way I like it. Not quick
and humane like all the hangings.
As the witch frenzy continued my life did as well. Despite my odd way of living I was
never seriously considered for witchcraft. My life actually became more normal. I spent more
time with people and less time in Hecates Circle. Even though I was not ever seriously
considered as a candidate for witchcraft, that does not mean I was never accused. One of the

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Putnam boys accused me of witchcraft, probably because I played a prank on him when we were
really young. These charges were dismissed because I was able to pass all of the test they gave
me. They really were simple to pass. The test would have had to be much more elaborate to
catch a real witch like me. As was custom they searched me for a Devils Mark which in reality
is much harder to find than they thought. Devils Marks are well hidden and they are not where
the the Dark One sucks your blood. It is simply where you make the incision for the blood when
you sign his book, and because of this the pricking does not work. Witch pricking completely
relied on the Devils Mark being from the Dark One himself and being void of feeling. The
committee also had my room searched for my witch tools, but really, no real witch keeps her
tools in her room! All of my things were safely stored in Hecates Circle shrouded in a black
curse to keep intruders out. These were the only tests performed on me but there were many
others that other citizens had to suffer through. One of the most popular was the water-ordeal.
This practically drowned any person who was unfortunate enough to be accused as a witch.
Basically the accused was dragged through the water, and if they floated they were a witch, and
if they sunk then they were not. They said that the witches floated because the water was
rejecting them like they rejected Christ, but in reality the people floated because humans float in
water. Superstitious old hags. Another popular one was the Lords Prayer. It was said that a witch
could not say the Lords Prayer because we were so used to saying it backwards in our Devil
worship. I can recite the prayer perfectly and you never recite that prayer in front of the Dark
One, forwards or backwards because the prayer is from God. There was also the crying test. If
you did not cry when told sad stories you were a witch. Witches can cry. I certainly did
especially when my sister almost died, but some people just dont cry easily. Lastly there was the
laying of hands. If the accused witch laid hands on the victim and the victim stopped having fits

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they were a witch because they pulled the curse back into themselves. This might have worked
but I never laid hands on the Afflicted Girls, I just pulled their torture dolls out whenever
someone was laying hands on them. Simple as that.
In total my witch frenzy would end up killing twenty four people.. Not as much as I had
hoped, but a fair number. However it is not the number of people that were killed that really
excites me, it is the number of people that went to prison: over 200. My plan was to ultimately
have the town fall apart but stupid Increase Mather had to show up in town and ruin my plans.
While Increase did not actually put an end to the trials, he did cast serious doubts on my puppets,
the Afflicted Girls. In his sermon Cases of Conscience Concerning Evil Spirits Personating
Men Mather stated that the testimony of the girls was not a reliable way to convict witches. He
also stated that it would be better to have ten suspected witches escaped then one innocent person
should be condemned. I must say Salem failed in that regard. I know a question you are begging
to have answered. If it was the Afflicted Girls that I hated so much, why did I use them as the
victims instead of the witches? The answer is simple, if they had been witches they would have
been seen as innocent people and not the guilty people that they were. As time progressed they
might have even been seen as martyrs and I could not have that happen. Now the world will
forever know their names. They are the girls that sent twenty four people to their deaths, and
over 200 people to prison for crimes they did not commit. In my mind that more than pays for
what they did to me.
The world may never know the true story of Salem. That is why I have taken the time to
write my accounts down. I plan to hide this story with my black book in the tree at Hecates
Circle. Maybe one day after my dark magic has worn off some unknowing person will find it and
finish the work I started. I do not plan to work anymore dark magic but I will be ready if my

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master should ever be in need of my services again. My future is looking bright. I have a suitor
named James, who I think I will settle down and have a family with. Will I teach my oldest
daughter the dark arts? Maybe. I will definitely let her explore the woods and if she happens on
Hecates Circle, so be it. Maybe she will be the next great witch of her day.

Mary Blanchard