Salem witch trials

When I was there it was frightening and unpredictable. It seemed hopeless to try to convince others that I was not a witch. They were bombarding me with questions and false statements. They ask “Are you a witch?” I say “No.” They ask again “Are you a witch?” I reply “No.” Afterward, they stop asking and start accusing me of being a witch. They ask “Why don’t I confess to being a witch?” In vain, they tried to persuade me into telling them that I am a witch. They can’t decide what to do to me when the day is over, so they throw me into jail until tomorrow. There they chain me up to wait until morning. After the first day of questioning they have nearly convinced me that I am a witch. After a sleepless night, they debate in the morning how to know if I am a witch. They gather several others that have also been accused of being a witch and line us up to be tried. When it’s my turn to be judged, my friends try to convince the people whom decided the final verdict. They tell the people that decide our fates about how kind, just, and caring we are and how we couldn't be a witch. Most of the people of the village know that most of the people being tried are good people; however they do not want to take that chance. Guilty! We are sentenced to hang, today. We stand on the gallows waiting to be hung. As we wait the master wizard repeats “Our Father, which art in heaven. . . .” He speaks each phrase perfectly, and the crowd marvels in astonishment. No witch or wizard could say the Lord's prayer. He hangs as do the rest of us. As I choke to death I keep to my faith as the lights go out.