One Word

Jamie stared out the window. Even though she had been at this house since she was a baby, She felt a stranger to this neighbourhood. The tree shaking the last of its leaves from the high branches, the dog tied to the leash in the backyard, nothing seemed to be like she remembered. Watching the rain pouring down outside made tears swell in her brown eyes. Her knotted brown hair sticking to her wet face. A sudden beep echoed around her. Slowly, she made her way to the bathroom. She didn't want to see it but she had to know.
Holding the stick in her hand, she could only stare. She wanted to cry but she had no tears left inside her. This was like a nightmare she could not wake up from.
The big positive "+ that stared back at Jamie teased her. Looking closely at the box she double-checked to make sure she had done it right. Unfortunately she followed everything. There was no mistake. This was the result. How could she have let this happen to her? It was all her fault and she knew it.
"Jamie, a voice called from the kitchen. "Can you come and help please?
"Coming, Jamie called as she pushed the evidence to the bottom of the bin.
"What have you been up to? Jamie's mother asked, peering over a bag of groceries. "Is everything okay?
"Fine, Jamie turned to put the groceries away. "I was just doing homework.

Jamie sat in the corner looking at her lunch. She tried to have another bite but she couldn't force herself to swallow. Their snickers echoed around her. There was nowhere to hide. Everywhere she looked reminded her of that night.
"You skank, a girl slammed her hand down on Jamie's table. Sarah had once been Jamie's friend but now she'd rather that Jamie was dead. "How dare you show your face?
Jamie kept her eyes lowered to her sandwich. No matter how hard she tried to ignore Sarah, she would not leave her alone.
"Listen to me you, slut, Sarah knocked Jamie's lunch off the table, forcing Jamie to look her in her eyes. "It's your fault Rick left me, how could you? I thought you were my friend?
"But I didn't.
"I know what went on between you two.
"It wasn't¦
"You'll pay for this.
Everyone in the cafeteria now stared at them.

Jamie had to be alone; she did not know where she was going. After school she just walked. She had to get away from their looks. Her feet dragging on the pavement as she moved, heavy with the weight of her troubles.
Jamie looked at where she was. She stood in front of a second hand shop. Looking through the shopfront window she could see the shop was filled with old trinkets that someone had once found valuable. Jamie decided to go in and look. She did need something to cheer her up and take her mind off her predicament.
The shop was filled with old clothes that had more holes than there was fabric. The darkened corner was stuffed with an antique table, chipped and cracked, needing attention. The shelves were lined with dusty boxes and trinkets of memories from the past. Jamie spotted an old wooded case that was hand painted and had a picture of a mother holding her child on the lid. There was something about this box that made Jamie want to buy it, this could have been because of the girl on the front. The small girl appeared to be looking at Jamie, tears streaming down her face. Jamie could relate to the emotion of this child, but she was only an image on the front of a box.

Jamie stood in front of the mirror, her reflection screaming at her. Jamie didn't know how long it would be before everyone could see her shame. The nightmare still played through her mind. No matter how hard she screamed he was still there, she could not escape him. Hands everywhere. The pain from his touch. Not stopping. Not listening. He kept coming. Whispering 'This is what you want'. And now this. No one would understand how she felt. This was her fault, Sarah was right everything was her fault.
Jamie picked the box up to examine it more closely. There was something odd with it. The inside did not seem as deep as it looked. Jamie felt around the bottom until she found a small groove that allowed her to release a secret compartment. Startled at what she saw Jamie could only stare at a small book at the bottom of the box.
As Jamie lifted the small book up, a dust cloud surrounded her. This book was older than anything she had ever seen. Apart from the books shabby appearance, the faded green cover barely holding the book together and the torn yellow pages, surprisingly the words inside were clearly visible in black ink as if it was just written. Flicking through the pages the ink got darker. Red satins appeared on the pages towards the end of the writing and the words were barely legible. Jamie knew that whoever wrote inside this book must have been through a great ordeal and this book must be something very important to the writer. Turning to the first page Jamie laid on her bed and started to read.

* * *
¦What have I done? My mind is consumed with guilt. Perhaps they are right, this could be the work of the devil but I did not want him. I tried to resist him but his power was just too great. People say the cruellest thing about this and I do not want to end up like the others have. I know what happened to them. I am not like the others¦
Jamie looked around. She had just been reading the book. The pages of the diary dissolved in front of Jamie's eyes, now she could swear she was standing in a medieval town square, people had gathered and were all watching and yelling at one girl. No longer just reading the story, Jamie was now seeing the story. The story of the girl that had put her tears and blood into writing this very diary. Jamie now looked at this girl. Her long red hair brushing against her wet face. She had been crying. Her hands rubbing her stomach, a small bulge could be seen behind her dress. Brigitta moved slowly towards the front of a crowd that had gathered. All the eyes were on her as she moved.
"There she is, one woman screamed from the crowd. "She is carrying his child.
"The spawn of Satan is what she carries, another voice pierced through the whispers of the crowd.
"Witch, screams erupted from the crowd.
* * *

A knock at the door startled Jamie back to reality. Her mother poked her head inside.
"Are you okay? Her mother asked in a concerned voice. "You barely said anything when you got home from school.
"I'm fine, Jamie snapped.
"You know you can talk to me if you ever got into any trouble, Jamie's mother spoke in a sincere voice that was bitter to Jamie's ears. "If you ever needed to talk you could talk to me.
Jamie could not listen to her mother any more; she turned away from the door and lay in silence until she heard her mother close the door again. She wished she could talk to her mother, but she wouldn't understand. The guilt itself was overwhelming. How could she tell her mother she got into this trouble? Jamie lifted the book once more and began to read.

* * *
¦I do not know how much longer I can go. What do they want me to tell them? The questions they ask I do not know the answers to, but I do know they are only after one answer. Should I give them the satisfaction and just tell them what they want to hear, perhaps they are right. They have made a good argument. I cannot answer them who the father of my child is. It must be the devil, there is no other conclusion as to why I am in this predicament. Perhaps I am evil and need to be saved from myself and from him¦
Just like before, the pages vanished and Jamie now watched a scene unfold. Jamie did not know how this was possible but the emotion of Brigitta was fused within the diary, she did not know if she was still actually reading or seeing the memories from this dead girl. Brigitta stood before her interrogator. His hands smothering her bare body. No clothes were left to hide her terrible secrets. Slowly her eyes started to close but this guy would not let that happen.
"Stay awake you evil child, the man violently shook her. "You must recant the devil and your soul will be saved.
"But I¦
"You are expecting a child but you do not have a husband.
"I do not¦
"We must prove that you are in pact with the devil, the man grabbed Brigitta roughly and plunged her hand into a scolding liquid. Brigitta cringed; the pain was too much to bare but she just bit down on her tongue, she did not want to give him the pleasure of screaming in agony. She could taste a mouthful of blood as she fought back her screams. "If you do not have any scars after three days then you are innocent but if your hands remained shrivelled then you must pay the penalty for your wicked crimes.
* * *

Jamie awoke, her body trembling, drenched in a hot sweat. It was pitch black outside. Quickly she flicked on the light. It was only 2 a.m. but she didn't want to close her eyes. He was there, in the shadows, waiting for her. There was nowhere she could be safe. He haunted her dreams. He made her think of him every waking moment as well as the moments she slept. How could she fight a memory? He will always linger with her and there was no way to escape.
Grabbing the book Jamie took comfort with the only other person she could relate to.

* * *
¦They are still searching for a confession. I do not know how many days I have been here or how long I will be able to stop myself from giving them what they want. My only escape from my life is writing. The days are long. The hours last forever. Sleep is a luxury that has become unknown to me. Please let me know what I have done to deserve all of this. But then I do know, it is growing inside of me. Why do they not kill me? All that I have been subjected to I wished it would have killed me, but they do not want me dead, not until I confess¦
Slowly he moved the cold blade across her face. Smooth metal touching her soft, dirty skin. Brigitta was helpless. Her hands bound, she could not move. He moved closer to her. His breath warm against her neck.
"See this blade, he whispered softly in her ear. "This will take away your powers, we will see how strong you are once you have been blooded.
Her interrogator moved the blade across her face. The blade cut deep, this time drawing blood, from chin to cheek. The sticky red liquid dripped down her face. Her interrogator looked back with a sadistic smile stretched across his face.
Brigitta spat at his feet, a mixture of saliva and blood. The interrogator laughed as he watched the red streaming liquid drip to the floor.
"A witch's power is in her blood, he preached. "I will be glad to watch your powers fade with every drop of blood that you lose.
* * *

It had been a long night of tossing and turning, Jamie still could not get to sleep. Now she had to face everyone at school. She wished she could crawl up in a hole and forget this nightmare.
When Jamie reached her locker she couldn't hold back the tears, blinding her vision. Everyone around her whispered. They were pointing at her. They were laughing at her. Jamie tried to turn her head away but the large black writing on her locker screamed at her. Reminding her of what she had done. The one word that she could not escape from. Staring back at her was the word SLUT scribbled across her locker.
"Told you you would pay, Sarah pushed Jamie into her locker. "Everyone will know what you did.
"Fight, students roared with excitement. "Fight.
Jamie fought her way past Sarah and the crowd that had gathered, she did not want to stop running. She could not see through the tears, but she didn't stop.
Sitting under the shelter of a tree she took comfort once again with the story of Brigitta.

* * *
¦Please take me away from this nightmare. Oh God, what have I done to deserve this? It must be me. I brought this on. I let him take me. The devil is the one who did this to me. I am carrying his child. There is not other explanation. I am evil and I will pay for letting this happen to me. Please let it end. Let it be over. I only beg that God will forgive my sins when everything is over¦
"There is another one, the interrogator screamed towards a bug that scurried past. "They keep coming for you and you still deny being a witch.
"But¦
"Deny it all you can but you cannot fool me, the interrogator circled around the filthy dungeon where Brigitta was being held. "All those bugs, rats and spiders were all your imps coming to your rescue.
"They are not.
"Stop lying.
"I'm not.
"Say you're a witch.
"No.
"Say it.
"No.
"Say it, the interrogator hit her in the head, knocking her to the ground. "Insolent girl we will make you confess.
Grabbing her furiously he dragged her over to a coffin-shaped box that stood as tall as her. Slowly he opened the door and pushed her inside. Brigitta felt sharp spikes pierce her skin.
"Maybe spending a few days in here will change your mind, the interrogator slammed the door on her.
Strong smells of rotten meat and blood filled her nose. Brigitta could not move. If she attempted to the spikes would drive themselves deeper into her skin. Brigitta tried to stay awake but the pain was unbearable. She did not know if she would ever see the light again but she didn't care. She just wanted it to end.
* * *

School could not end too soon. It was not just that her friends all hated her or the whispers she got in the hall as she passed, it was the way everyone looked at her. They all looked at her with disgust and hatred, and they didn't even know what happened. They did not want to know her side of the story. She knew that she was the one at fault here, this was why everyone hated her.
Jamie slowly opened the door to her house; she could not stay away any longer.
"You thought you could hide this, her father stood in the hall holding the pregnancy test. "You little slut.
"It's not what it looks like, Jamie tried to explain. "Please listen to me.
"I don't want to hear it, her father swung at her, throwing her back against the wall.
"Stop it, her mother came to her defence.
"Stop protecting the slut, he screamed.
"Leave me alone, Jamie screamed, running to her room and slamming the door shut.
This nightmare will never end. It still played in her mind like a video in slow motion. Everything she looked at reminded her of him. Now this thing growing inside her, he would never leave her. Jamie screamed swinging her arms about furiously she just wanted to forget. Knocking things from off the shelves. Slamming her fists against the walls to forget, but nothing she did would let her forget. Body trembling she collapsed in a corner and sobbed. It wouldn't go away. This feeling of worthlessness would never go away and she hated it. She would do anything to go back to that night and do it differently, anything that would have stopped this from becoming her reality.

* * *
¦I am struggling to write this entry. My hands are no longer useful. The only way I can write this diary is to bribe one of the guards that are keeping me here with the little things that I have left in this world. It pains me to write these words but this is the only solace that I can find, everyone has abandoned me and all I have left is this, please do not take this away from me. These people take pleasure in watching the accused suffer. I am not alone. Many other people are here, people that I have known to be good. There is even a Priest among the accused. He cries day and night, praying that they will not touch his family. Eventually they will saying that they too are in league with the devil for standing by him. His God has abandoned him and there is no one left to help him. Please let this merciless killing stop¦
Brigitta tried not to look at the sight that was visible from the cell's window. The twisted and mangled bodies hanging lifeless. It was over in a quick instance. Now silence. The crowd that had gathered to watch this execution was no longer there. This was nothing more than a public spectacle. They watched the life drain from these people. People that they knew. People that had once offered them a helping hand.
There hung Father Jeremy. He had been present at her baptism. He had offered her council in her hardest times. And now all that was left of him was this figure that did not resemble the kind priest that she had once known. His face cut and mangled. Bone could be seen sticking out from his feet. Inside his open mouth only the teeth could be seen. As a prize of his confession the interrogator took his tongue. Brigitta could not bear this sight any longer.
Brigitta looked down at her bloody fingers. The excruciating pain caused her vision to be doubled. The things they had done to her were too horrible for words, she could only stare at her fingers. The way they ripped the fingernails from her trembling fingers. One by one. They smiled as they did this act. Now Jamie watched as her interrogator passed a thin needle under the flame of a lit candle.
Brigitta looked away as they took the needle and drove it through the quicks of her fingers. Pain coursed through her body. She just wanted to be sick. The more she screamed the farther they jabbed the needles in. They continued this until Brigitta had collapsed, her body motionless and twisted as they kicked her aside and moved on to their next victim.
* * *

Jamie did not know how long she had been out here. She just didn't want to go home. There was nowhere she could be safe. There was no one she could trust. She didn't know where to turn. Lost in thought she didn't see the shadowy figure creep up on her.
"What did you say? A firm hand grabbed her around her arm, pulling her behind a brick wall.
"Nothing.
"You better not have, Rick snarled, pushing her hard against the brick wall. "You brought it on, it's your fault.
"But¦
"You know you flirted with me and the way you dressed, you liked it and now you expect me to get you out of this trouble.
"But I'm pregnant.
"You can't prove it's mine.
"But I said no, Jamie lowered her eyes to the ground. "I said no.
"You were asking for it, you can't blame me for the way you looked. It's your fault.
"I trusted¦
"I warn you'll be sorry if you tell anyone this, you'll really be sorry.
Jamie pushed out of his grip. She was running. She had to get away from him.
As soon as Jamie got home she jumped in the shower. Scrubbing as hard as she could, she tried to get the dirt off. It was still there. No matter what she did, the dirt would not wash off. Jamie's skin was red raw. Her body weak and numb, she could only curl up in the fetal position and grab for the journal.

* * *
¦I am so tired. Just writing this is taking the rest of my strength but if I stop I will have nothing. I do not know how much more I can take. I do not know what to believe anymore. They are right. I am a witch. They have made me come to see this. Why else would they treat me this way? I have to confess to it. If not to save my soul then to have this stop. I will tell them what they want to hear¦
"It is true, Brigitta weakly screamed. "He came to me in the night, he showed me pleasures that no person has ever dreamt of,
"He promised me things if I gave him my body and soul, and I did. No one could stop me. He kept coming for me, the man in black that is what he was, he wanted more than my body. He wanted me to birth his child,
"And I agreed. That is who the father of my child is and if I had my powers we would show you no mercy. May the thunder strike you down where you stand and you rot in hell for doing this to me. Brigitta spat at her tormentor.
"I always knew we would get the confession, he smiled as he pushed her away. "May God take pity on your soul even though you do not deserve it.
Brigitta sat on the ground as she watched him stride away. A sudden feeling of dread crept over her body as she became aware of what she had just done.
* * *

Jamie stared in the mirror. Her naked body disgusted her.
"Why didn't you stop him? Jamie screamed at her reflection. Jamie slammed her fist into the mirror. The glass showered her. Blood gushed from her cut hand. "Why didn't you do something?
Jamie just wanted everything to end. She had had enough of this. She could not understand why this was happening to her. She had done nothing wrong but she should have stopped him. He was everywhere. This feeling was just too much to bare. Consumed with guilt she could not stand this. No matter what she did he would still be there. Her body reminded her of this. No one could remove the memory of that night, no one could take it away. There was only one way to forget. Only one way to end it.
Jamie quickly pulled the medication cabinet open. In front of her eyes were all the medications that her parents had. It would be quick. She was determined. This would take all her pain away. Jamie pulled all of the bottles onto the ground. collapsing to the ground in defeat she reached for the journal one last time.

* * *
...The moment had finally arrived. They have told me what they will do to me. They said they must. They will take this child away from me before they take me. Oh please, God forgive my sins. Please let this cleanse my soul so that I will not pay for this all eternity. This will be my last entry. I do not know if anyone will ever get to read this, if anyone will ever learn of my story. But if by any chance they do please do not let this happen to you. Forced to admit that I was the one to blame. I could not have changed what happened to me. Please listen to me. I am and have always been innocent. The man who caused my predicament was not the devil but he is just as bad. If my words can help another soul find peace then my life would not have been wasted in vain¦
Brigitta lay on a wooden table. Her face was bruised, cut and swollen. Cuts covered her body. Her fingers were pink and bloody. She didn't have the strength to move. Three men circled her as she lay.
"We must kill the devil's child, one man lifted a knife and lowered it towards Brigitta's stomach.
"It must not live.
Brigitta tried to scream but her voice was hoarse from all the torture she had endured. The countless days that they had attacked her for a confession. They did not care if the confession was legitimate or brought on by this torture, they only cared that they had the confession. She closed her eyes so she did not have to look at what they were doing. She could feel them inside her, ripping her unborn child from her weak, broken body. She knew that the pain would be unbearable if her body was not weak and numb.
Bloody hands wrenched her from off the table. Her body was weak and trembling. This was it. She knew where they were taking her. The thick ropes chafed her neck. It was only a matter of time before the ropes would tighten, taking the last of her breath¦
* * *

Jamie slammed the book closed. A feeling of nausea crept over her body. She just had to be sick. This was either the feeling of what she had seen or what she had growing inside her. Unlike Brigitta's ordeal Jamie finally understood that she did have a choice. She did not have to stand by and take the blame for this. Looking back at the story of Brigitta she could identify that she was similar to this girl. It all started with one word.
"Jamie, a knocking sounded at the bathroom door. "Are you okay in there?
Jamie stood up and opened the door. Her mother gave her a worried look as she spotted all of the medicine bottles lying on the ground. "Oh Jamie.
"I'm sorry mum, Jamie broke down into tears. "I need your help.
Jamie's mother wrapped her daughter in a towel and held her. This was enough for the moment. The love of her mother was making her forget about all the problems of this life. But she would have to go and get help. She could not let this happen to someone else. But for right now this hug would do. There wasn't much different between the word "witch and that of "slut, both words lead to the scarring and blame after what they had been through and could have ended in death if she had not realised this in time.