September 16/17, 1692
The days have gone by; how many I do not know. The light and dark is all the same to me. I can feel my bones breaking, it is impossible to breath. My eyes bulge from their sockets and my brain is about to explode. Something is oozing from my sides; maybe it is blood or my internal organs slowly leaking out or both. I want it all to end, I refuse to plead. I don't even know if I can speak. They come, they always come with more stones. When will the weight finally crush the life out of me? I wonder if Martha is still alive and if she is praying for me after all that I have done...
a witch is a witch, you deserve it.
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