Page 33 of The Neighborhood Witch

She threw the wand back into the drawer, slamming it shut, and then buried her face into her hands and bawled. She removed one hand from her face. Johanna traced the circular pattern of the cloak clasp with her fingers. She snuffled twice and regained her composure. She pulled her hair back behind her shoulders.

Johanna extracted a jeweled amulet held within the black box. A golden disc, worn with age. Interlocking links of gold passed through a metal loop at the top of the disc. Johanna cradled the disc in her hands. She circled the amulet with her thumb, feeling each precision cut into the eight burnt orange gems that encircled a golden jewel inthe center. It was heavy—heavy with the burdens of multiple lifetimes lived.

Johanna focused on Elizabeth’s photograph. Her bright smile and hazel eyes. Elizabeth’s auburn hair, which matched the golden leaves in the background, reminded her of Abigail.

“Abigail!”Johanna shouted. “Abigail, are you in here?” Johanna entered the wooden barn. The smell of hay and animals lingered in the poorly filtered building. The room was dark and foreboding. “Abigail. This isn’t funny.” Her hand stretched out for the wood pillars of the empty livestock pins. Johanna took small steps as she moved through the straw covered dirt floor. “Abigail, are you in here?”

The room went dark as two hands cupped her eyes. A woman’s voice whispered, soft like it was telling a secret only they knew, “I’ve taken your sight. What will you give me in exchange for your sight back?”

Johanna spun around. Her dark brown eyes locked with Abigail’s hazel-colored ones. Johanna’s heart beat against her rib cage. Her breathing intensified. Johanna brushed Abigail’s auburn hair behind her ear. She leaned forward and whispered softly into Abigail’s ear, “I give you my heart so that I may look upon thee with mine own eyes and not suffer a day longer.”

Johanna wrapped her arms around Abigail’s body. Johanna’s hands carefully traced her spine down her black petticoat until it found the small of her back. She pressed her hands, drawing Abigail in closer. Abigail held her breath and closed her eyes in anticipation. Johanna leaned in and kissed her soft lips. Abigail’s hands worked their way up to the back of Johanna’s head, fingers intertwined with her brunette hair. Johanna stopped momentarily for a quick breath and then gave her a small kiss again.

They touched foreheads, both gasping for air.

“I have missed this,” Johanna said. “What about William?”

“Out in the fields. He’s far from here,” Abigail replied. She pulled back. “I have something for you.” She pulled out a ringed silver cloak clasp from her apron pocket. She showed Johanna the intricate, filigree design that interwove around the flat surface.

“What is this?”

“This is an old family heirloom.” Abigail flipped it over. The words ‘For My Eternal Love’ were engraved into the silver ring. “I want you to have this. Since I’ve taken your heart, you can keep this close by knowing that my love for you will always be eternal.”

Abigail pinned the cloak clasp to her black petticoat below her left shoulder. Johanna touched the silver ring. Her fingers traced along the interwoven lines. Their eyes locked again. Abigail gave a slight nod.

Johanna grabbed Abigail’s waist and tossed her onto the hay of the animal stall. She climbed on top of her. Johanna undid the buttons running down her chest. Abigail’s hands tried to find their way up Johanna’s long, flowing skirt and became tangled in the folds of the fabric. She hurried to expose Johanna’s body underneath. Johanna paused and locked eyes with Abigail once more.

“I love you,” she said.

Abigail paused her pursuit. “I love you too,” she replied. “I—”

“What is happening here?” A man’s voice interrupted.

Johanna rolled off of Abigail, covering up her exposed legs.

“William,” Abigail shouted. Her hands shook as she buttoned back up. “I thought you were working in the fields?”

“I came back for the fork. What in God’s name is happening here?”

“We, uhh…” Johanna tried to think of words, any words. They locked their desperate eyes, hoping either would find the right answer. Johanna concentrated on William and continued, “We—”

“She bewitched me,” Abigail yelled.

Johanna snapped her head back toward Abigail. Her eyeswidened, and she held her breath. The taste of straw in her mouth erased the taste of Abigail’s lips.

A week later, Johanna was on trial for witchcraft, accused of bewitching her true love, Abigail. Her secret love. She was the furthest thing from being a witch. She had heard the stories—rumors that a witch had taken up residence in the woods surrounding their small town.

She never believed them. She thought the townsfolk were merely superstitious and worried about what was out there in the dark woods.

The knock of the judge’s gavel echoed through the makeshift courtroom. She stood on a raised wood platform and held the rails to her side. Her stomach pressed against the rail in front of her. Murmurs and whispers filled the air. The gavel echoed again. At the front of the room, the judge sat at a long table with a half dozen of the other town elders.

“This court shall come to order,” the judge’s voice echoed through the largest chamber of the Town Common House. The room fell silent. “Johanna Newes. You are hereby accused of practicing witchcraft by William Anderson. How do you plead?”

Johanna scanned the room; her eyes widened at the horror set before her. Their eyes focused on her, judging her. Afraid of her. Condemning her. She tried to clear the lump in her throat. She held back tears in her eyes. Her eyes finally rested on their eventual target: Abigail. Her head held low.

“How does the defendant plead?” the judge asked again.

“Not guilty,” Johanna responded with a crack in her voice, trying to find the strength to defend herself.

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