The Diary of Mary Warren: Entry 3

 

Dear Diary,

 

 

 

          On a very chilly day I celebrated my eighteenth year. Goody Proctor gave me a new sewing kit. The needle was brand new and not in the least dull it sparkled and shined in the light. Along with it she gave me a whole roll of

 

sturdy black twine. She is so kind to me I will be sure to put it to good use. I only wish that the day of my birth could be a bit more happy but with all that is happening in the court I can not find my self smiling for more than a minute.

 

          More and more people are being accused and more and more are presented with cold iron bracelets and some meet the acquaintance of a harsh bristled noose. I can’t express the guilt I feel for condemning innocent people to a life in a dark lonely cell and having them feel the grip of death as that bristled snake constricts around their neck. It has come to the point that people are accusing others just for their land. They’re exploiting the matter to their favor. The only way to free themselves of screaming accusations is if they confess to compacting with Lucifer.

 

          The accusations are getting more obscene by the day. Young children are being accused; even elderly who couldn’t hurt a dormouse are said to have sent their spirit out to wreak vengeance on the people of Salem. I’m forced to faint and to claim that I see familiar spirits of those on trial. I don’t want to do this anymore...condemning people who are guilty of being innocent. I can put an end to it all now, but Abby and the others would never have it they would turn on me in the last heartbeat of a hanging accused.

 

 

 

                             Mary Warren

 

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