For those of you familiar with my stories, you're probably wondering what I'm doing creating a new one when I have two others to update already. Well, I really liked the idea of Alanna during the Salem Witch Trials in the 1600's so I couldn't wait to write it. I wrote a rough draft of the whole story and holy crap this is not something you want to miss. Enjoy!

Alanna peeked out from under the doorway and sighed heavily. The parched grass in her yard lay withered and yellow while the flowers she had planted in the spring sat wilted and dead around the doorstep. Although it was but early June, the weather had been hot and unfavorable for New England this time of year and already the land was dying and wasting away. Just as the small town of Salem was usually alive and full of activity, the recent Witch Accusations and the drought had halted many of the year's preparations for farming. Instead, the tumultuous events had turned neighbor against neighbor and friends against friends.

In such a disparaging and religious a town as Salem, such friendly bonds are almost non-existent, Alanna thought as she knelt down and plucked a small violet from its stem. Its majestic hue matched her unusual eyes exactly. Salem is not known for its acceptance of others. In our world that only extends to the borders of the town, friends are few and you only keep to yourself if you wish to have any respectable standing in this horrid town. She looked up at the darkening blue sky. Evening was about to set in and the sky remained clear of the rain clouds that the townspeople had prayed for.

"Alanna where are you?" Alanna's father called from instead the house. A tall man came to the open door. His build was slim and his brown hair showed more gray every day. His dull brown eyes contained no small sparkle. He had never strayed from the rules and traditions his whole life and Alanna found it hard to believe that this man was really her and her twin's father. Both Alanna and Thom both had wild coppery red hair and brilliant violet eyes. Long before the absurd accusations of witchery appeared in Salem, many people had secretly considered the twins harbingers of sin and thus stayed clear of them. Some even went so far as to say that it was because of them that their mother died in childbirth.

"Heavens above, why are crouching in the dirt like that? Come inside before you dirty your skirts and someone sees you." Warren Trebond waved his daughter inside. Alanna cradled the violet in one hand and tucked a stray strand of her coppery red hair under her cap and shivered as she entered her house. The inside was dark and plain, as was expected by Puritan standards. A kettle had been hung over the fireplace and her father's cloak had been thrown over one of the wooden chairs at the table.

"Are you going out Father?" Alanna asked. She put the flower in a vase already containing several others.

"Yes, I must report immediately to the courthouse. Apparently another girl was stricken with hysterics and the fear is of witchcraft." Master Trebond swung his cloak onto his shoulders, thought about the sweltering heat outside and removed it, opting instead for his hat.

"Who is ill now?"

He paused. "Abigail Maurice was stricken. Now please don't concern yourself about these evils, you wouldn't want to trouble your delicate mind with it. Remember, the Lord will protect the innocent and meek from all evils."

"Well he hasn't done a very good job here in Salem, has he? Not with all these people becoming 'ill'" Alanna raised her voice angrily.

"Blasphemy, Alanna!" her father spat. "You know what the magistrates will do to you if they hear the slightest whisper of such things"

"They're sniffing in the wrong direction then. Abigail Maurice is obviously a fake, wanting nothing more than – "

Warren Trebond rushed towards his daughter in two strides and slapped her across her face. Alanna fell to the hard wooden floor and held her stinging cheek. She looked up to her father, hate boiling in her eyes.

"I will not have you talking that way! I won't be challenged in my own house by my child, who is supposed to be both obedient and subordinate to their father! I will forgive you this time, as the heat is affecting your judgment." Master Trebond opened the door. "Remember to do your chores otherwise there will be no supper for you." With that, he left. Alanna stood and threw her shoe at the closed door.

"I make your supper you dirty bastard!" She screamed.

"Another one of your fits?" A calm and collected Thom came down from the stairs. "Soon they'll be hauling you off to the stocks."

"Hilarious, really Thom, considering I'm not the one with hemlock, voodoo dolls and a book of the dark occult under my bed." Alanna retrieved her shoe and poured herself a cup of tea.

"It's all for an experiment." Thom said as he snatched the cup of tea away from Alanna.

"What kind of experiment? How long it takes before the magistrates come pounding at our door?" Alanna asked sarcastically. She hauled a chair to the cupboard and stood upon it so that she could reach the top shelf containing more cups.

"No, I'm actually investigating whether witchcraft really exists, and so far I'm convinced that there is no proof that any of it exists. It's simply coincidence and superstitions causing people to see what they want to see." Thom said in his even voice. While he too had Alanna's slim build, violet eyes and red hair, he was nearly six feet tall. He was to be a pastor although he had no patience for religion, instead interesting himself in practical medicine and science. Such things were too, outlawed and taboo in Puritan society and he only did his experiments at night or when their father had gone to the meeting house, which was quite often. Alanna had no patience for Thom's careful and precise "hobbies" and preferred to be outdoors as much as possible. She suspected her father was trying to find a suitable husband for her, a frightening thought to Alanna who did not wish to be tied down for the rest of her life. Of course, now would not be the best time to bring this up to her father, for that was too considered a sign of witchcraft, going against traditional values.

"All of this witchcraft nonsense is nothing more than people being condemned for not fitting into the confines of society. There is no freedom here." Alanna moaned and sat at the table with her head in her arms.

"Finally, some reason, and coming from my wild sister." Thom sipped his tea and returned it to Alanna. "But still, no one is going to listen to us. They want entertainment, even though they won't admit it. They want to blame someone else for their faults and blaming someone who is already considered a misfit is the easiest option for them."

"But don't you think, that perhaps God is really punishing us?" Alanna whispered as she sat up in her chair.

Thom scoffed. "What could God possibly punish us for? We do our work, live our lives with little to no excitement, go to Church and praise him and we beat our children. How is the mighty Lord not happy with us?"

Alanna winced as Thom's tone became more sarcastic and his accusations completely blasphemous. "Oh please Thom, you know I feel the same way but saying it aloud scares me somehow."

"How can it scare you? Are you afraid your words might become venomous snakes?"

"No!" Alanna argued. "It's just that when you say it aloud, it just, I don't know, it seems that someone might overhear you, that someone might report you. I don't want to end up on the gallows. Not like Mary Walcott." She whispered the name. Thom looked down at his feet, thinking of the poor woman who was unjustly put to death after being indicted of witchcraft and worship of the Devil.

The town magistrate had condemned Mary Walcott, the widow who lived on the edge of town, to death by hanging. The prison wardens had paraded the accused throughout town in a wagon with Mary's hands tied together, her eyes cast downward the entire way, completely humiliated. But once the wagon had come to a stop at the gallows, the widow had held her head up high and slowly ascended the stairs to meet her death. Some people in the crowd were appalled that she could walk that way although she had committed such a horrendous sin. Alanna had been disgusted by the sight of the scornful crowd. Anyone with an ounce of common sense knew Mary Walcott couldn't even conceive the thought of ever dawdling in witchcraft. She helped the unfortunate and came to church every Sunday and was a very pious woman who only mourned the passing of her husband. No one had dared speak up for her in the courthouse as she pleaded not guilty to the charges. No, in fact, many had jeered at her and many acted appalled that the Devil could so cleverly hide his agent among the innocent townspeople. It had been Abigail Maurice that led the magistrates to Mary Walcott. Abigail had said that Mary looked at her funny in Church during Sunday mass and mumbled something under her breath. When Abigail had returned home, she became ill and could not receipt her prayers. Only when Mary Walcott was in prison had she been able to pray.

Alanna had tried to speak out against the injustice, but her father had shushed her and slapped her cheek. Mary Walcott had then returned to prison that night after the judges, Reverends Cotton Mather and Samuel Parris found her guilty. She was hung the next morning.

Alanna could still remember the look of fear in Mary's eyes, even though she retained her confident posture. Mary had lost her cap and her honey-colored hair tumbled out of its bun and curled angelically around her shoulders.

"Hear now, ye citizens of Salem. We stand here in the presence of our Lord and Creator, on this day of the twenty-ninth day of the month of May, in the year of 1692 of our beloved Savior." One of the magistrates, Philip Martin, declared from a scroll as he stood next to Mary. "We come together to bear witness to the justice of our town, to the hanging of the accused witch by the name of Mary Walcott. Her heretic crimes include but are not limited to, the degradation of God's Church, the sin of witchcraft, the contamination of the morals and values of our community, the pollution of our children's minds and, the most serious offense, the alliance with the Devil himself!"

If anyone here is the Devil, it's Philip Martin, not poor Mary! Alanna wanted to cry out. How beautiful Mary looked in the morning sun, the light playing along her golden hair. Master Martin looked frightening, garbed in all black, according to Puritan dress. His old and flabby face and white hair contrasted horribly against Mary's youthfulness. The Magistrate finally finished his declaration and the hangman stepped forward to put the noose around Mary's neck.

"Mrs. Mary Walcott, would you confess to witchcraft and denounce alliance to the Devil?" The last offer for redemption was but a false hope; even if she confessed Mary's death would be put off to a later date.

"My only alliance is with God and his holy and good ways. I denounce having anything to do with witchcraft."

"Then you will be hanged until dead." The hangman then pulled the lever and Mary Walcott plunged down. Her legs kicked until finally she stopped her dance of death and hung still from the rope.

Alanna could not tear her sight away from the miserable body hanging from the rope. Tears streamed down her face as she walked home with her family. Her father reprimanded her as soon as they came through the door, saying that it was not right to express feelings towards a criminal for fear of being considered in league with them

Of course Father doesn't care about his children unless we make any move that might humiliate him or the family. Both Alanna and Thom found their father unbearable. Sometimes, at night when Thom slept soundly next to her, she muttered a prayer to God that perhaps he might send her mother down from heaven or send a guardian angel to her for comfort and guidance. Living with her Father made Alanna's life miserable as he never allowed them any fun, especially not Alanna. She was raised to become a mother and housewife, to be obedient and docile and to submit to her husband. Alanna couldn't fathom why a god so highly praised such as hers would take away children's mothers from the very beginning, make woman to assume an inferior position in life and yet expect nothing less than total and complete selfless dedication from the masses who worshipped him. It confused Alanna terribly yet to pull away from the Church would be heresy and now with the Witch Trials, it was bet to keep your head down and mumble your prayers in Church as it kept you alive in these dark times.

Still, as Alanna sat with Thom at the table in their kitchen and thought of Mary Walcott's hanging a week ago, she didn't feel like keeping her head down. Why couldn't she stand up and make the townspeople see what she could see? She sighed again and downed her tea. She got up and tightened her cap.

"Where are you off too?" Thom asked his sister as she made to leave.

"I have to go feed the animals." She said crossly. "Make sure the house is organized before Father gets home yes? I don't want to listen to his complaining when he gets home." Thom nodded his head in confirmation and Alanna made her way to the family's barn in the gathering dusk. It was a dank and humid evening and the violet-eyed girl swatted mosquitos out of her face.

The sweet smell of hay and horse calmed her raging nerves, as the barn was her one place where she could find solitude when she needed it most. She went up and patted Moonlight, her golden mare, on her flank and hugged her tightly.

"I wish you were a person," Alanna murmured in vain into the horse's coat. She stood there for a few minutes, softly stroking Moonlight's nose. She pulled herself away from the mare and went about making sure the animals had enough feed. As Alanna was putting the pitchfork away, an arm slithered around her waist and pulled her against a muscular chest as a hand covered her mouth

Immediately Alanna's mind went into overdrive and she frantically kicked and flailed, trying to fend off her attacker. She rammed her heel between the man's legs and with an "Ompf!" he let her go.

Alanna spun around, only to find none other than George Cooper sprawled in the hay.

"George!" Alanna breathlessly stated. She ran to the barn door to look for anyone coming this way. Seeing no one around, she securely closed the barn's door.

George winced as he held his crouch. "Aye it's me lass."

Alanna rushed to his side. "We must be quiet, in case we are found." She whispered. "I'm so sorry that I've hurt you George, I really am. But you know you mustn't sneak up me like that. And you mustn't always come to me like this." Alanna glanced around.

"In what way lass?" George whispered, his hazel eyes twinkling. "I thought today I might actually be able to surprise you."

Alanna ran her fingers through George's brown curls, admiring the silky feeling and luster of the man's hair. "No, I don't ever think you'll be able to surprise me. I meant that we always shouldn't be sneaking around like this. Couldn't you call on me properly? "

"I thought you yourself said that your father doesn't like me?" George now sat up with a wince and took hold of Alanna's hands in his own. He admired how smooth and small her hands were when they were compared to his rough ones, his toughed by years of farmwork. "And besides, even if I was allowed to see you we wouldn't be able to talk of anything 'cept the weather and the Lord's almighty goodness." He said with a wink.

Alanna smiled at the truth of George's words knowing quite well that any interaction between them anywhere else would be supervised and noted by everyone within the immediate area.

"Well I guess I am lucky that your father is out tonight. What would he think of you and me rolling about in the hay like this?" He asked.

Alanna stared into George's eyes and then looked away. "I really prefer not to talk of my father right now. I have quite enough of him for one day." She clasped her hands around the man's own. "Could we not talk of him?"

"Of course lass, anything else would be a might pleasanter." A small silence followed. Alanna shyly snuck a peek at George. His face wouldn't be described as beautiful, but handsome in a rugged way. He looked absolutely charming and mischievous when he grinned and his nose was a bit too big for his face. He was taller, and had a toned physic, even though Alanna had never seen more of his body than his face and his forearms, having seen him work in the fields. George saw her gaze and grinned. Alanna's heart fluttered and a blush spread across her cheeks. Although the light in the barn was limited by a small lantern, George couldn't possibly miss the reddening of Alanna's cheeks. How sweet she looked! She never believed him when he called her pretty.

George turned Alanna's head towards him with a soft finger and looked hesitant for a moment, then leaned down to kiss her. They had exchanged small kisses before but tonight Alanna knew that small kisses would not be enough for her. George broke off the kiss much too soon.

"No," She mumbled. She tugged on George's shirt to bring his lips against hers once more. She pressed her body against his muscular chest and he fell backwards onto a pile of straw. She savored the sweet warmth of lips on hers and the solid comfort of George's body. Arms drew her tighter to him and Alanna slipped her own arms around George's neck. She shifted a little bit and George moaned. He broke the kiss again and lay back on the hay, panting only the slightest bit. Beneath her drab gown, Alanna could feel George's racing heart rate.

"Please don't leave me alone George." She whispered.

"Only say the word and I'll be here for you love," George whispered back. He kissed her again, more urgently this time and Alanna responded with a fervor that surprised her. George rolled them over so now he was lying to top of her. Alanna's hair spilled loosed from under her cap and George entwined his fingers in her wild curls. Alanna arched her back and deepened their kiss. George probed her mouth tentatively with his tongue and Alanna whimpered and wrapped her leg around George's waist.

A sudden knocking on the barn door made both of them freeze.

"Alanna are you finished?" Thom called through the closed door. "The meeting at the courthouse was adjourned a few minutes ago. Father will be back soon." He paused. "Please make yourself decent for supper." Alanna knew this was Thom's code for 'Make it look as if you weren't kissing a man that you're not supposed to be with in the barn'.

George pecked Alanna's lips once more and got up quickly.

"I hate to be leaving you like this, lass." He helped her up and flecked off bits of hay, "I hate having to leave you at all."

"Come back soon?" Alanna begged.

"As soon as possible." He promised and sealed it with a kiss.

Alanna shuttered the lantern and let George out the door. She waited a few moments and then made her way to the house. All the while, her heart raced faster than it ever had before. She felt that this confined life would no longer hold any interest to her. She felt that she should be as free as the nightingale, who tweeted its sweet song in the soft evening dusk.

Yay! So obviously this is not historically accurate. I will say that I borrowed some names from the Witch Trials but they won't line up with the actual historical events. Tell me what you think and what's good and what's bad. Any review is good for me! Look out for the next chapter!