Author's Note This is my first story on fiction press, and also one of my first attempts at writing a 'period' tale. Please read it and review! (If you are looking for romance, that will begin later on...hehe the angst comes first)







A young girl curled up in a ball on the ground as the villagers crowded around her, kicking mud into her face.

Tears streamed down her pale cheeks; she cried out but no one took notice.

In the midst, the leader of the village stepped forward, and from his waist coat pocket brandished a knife. The blade glittered maliciously.

The girl's eyes widened in horror. "No! No! Please! I haven't done anything!"

"You have been found beside the dead body of the blacksmith's youngest daughter."

"I didn't do anything!" she cried, her voice growing more and more frantic, "I'm innocent!"

She buried her head in her hands and erupted into heart-wrenched sobs. The villagers began to laugh, taunting and mocking.

"You brought sickness upon our animals!" a man in the crowd yelled.

"You caused my son's incurable illness!" a woman called out.

"You made our crops fail this Spring!" another voice shouted.

The young girl winced as a rotten vegetable hit her side. Soon, more ensued, the putrid smell smashing against her face. She yelped, and tried to crawl away. A pair of brown boots stood in her way.

Trembling, she looked up. "You're not going anywhere." The man snarled, a piece of wheat hanging limply from his mouth; his yellowing teeth bared.

The girl swiveled around, only to have more feet and boots stop her from escaping. She turned back to the leader, and clasped her hands as if in prayer. "Please, I have not done anything!" she begged, "I have not anything!"

The leader came forward and slapped her hard, causing her to clutch her face pain. "Don't you dare clasp your hands in that manner, follower of the devil."

"I am not a worshipper of Satan! I'm a young girl!" she screamed, hysterical.

At that moment a villager reached and grabbed her long hair, causing her to scream even louder.

"Confess. Are you or are you not a follower of the devil?"

The girl cried harder, trying to shake her head. "No! No!"

"I said confess! Not lie!"

"I'm not lying!" she cried.

"Liar." The villager said to her, and spat on her face.

She twisted under his grip, clutching at his hands. She wasn't strong enough.

The leader brought the knife closer to her. "May your sins flow with your blood." He said.

She screamed as the blade cut her flesh open.