APRIL 2, 1692
RACHEL SWIFT
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," he said between frightened gasps, as his eyes
were locked on me. "Burn in hell, Daughter of Lucifer."
The stench of burning flesh still lingered days later. Mother tried to cover the rotting
smell up as best she could with mulch and spices, but nothing seemed to help. A week
passed when Papa began to be missed by some folks in town. Mother told them he
was injured while hunting, but everyone became suspicious. The townspeople arrived
and raided our home. They, like my mother and Abigail, discovered the burnt
pentagram image on my bedroom floor and were evidently horrified.
After all, it was the only thing I could do.
A few seconds passed, and she never responded to me. I knocked again louder, calling out
to Abigail but no sound came from the room. I attempted to open the door and discovered
it was locked. Frantically, my eyes glowed like fire again, as I stood back and stretched
out my hand. The wrought-iron deadbolt clicked and unlocked the bedroom door. My
eyes went back to normal, and my powers felt disengaged from my emotions.
RACHEL SWIFT
If I'm going to begin telling the story of the Magnificent Coven accurately,
I suppose I need to start this particular storytelling about the first witch: me.
My family was like most families living in the seventeenth century. Nothing
was unusual about us. Like most families, we woke to the sound a rooster's
daily shrieking crow and went to bed at dusk. Papa was a farmer and sold livestock,
while Mother tailored clothes and cleaned laundry for more well-to-do families in
town. We read the Bible every night by lantern light and attended church every
Sunday morning.
I suppose I need to start this particular storytelling about the first witch: me.
My family was like most families living in the seventeenth century. Nothing
was unusual about us. Like most families, we woke to the sound a rooster's
daily shrieking crow and went to bed at dusk. Papa was a farmer and sold livestock,
while Mother tailored clothes and cleaned laundry for more well-to-do families in
town. We read the Bible every night by lantern light and attended church every
Sunday morning.
During the Summer of 1681, Mother gave birth to a seven-pound baby girl.
Her name was Abigail, named after the biblical wife of King David. Abigail
was beautiful with golden-blond hair and eyes as blues as the skies. Many of
the townspeople seemed to have adored my sister. Abigail was a unique child
and more intuitive than most children her age.
Her name was Abigail, named after the biblical wife of King David. Abigail
was beautiful with golden-blond hair and eyes as blues as the skies. Many of
the townspeople seemed to have adored my sister. Abigail was a unique child
and more intuitive than most children her age.
Abigail and I were close. One could say she and I were best friends. Also, if
anyone ever had a near-perfect mother, ours was indeed ideal. Yes, our family
appeared to be the typical American Christian family. However, even the devil
himself has two sides. Papa was quite different, indeed. He delighted in his
immoral secret life. Unfortunately, no one suffered more than I did.
anyone ever had a near-perfect mother, ours was indeed ideal. Yes, our family
appeared to be the typical American Christian family. However, even the devil
himself has two sides. Papa was quite different, indeed. He delighted in his
immoral secret life. Unfortunately, no one suffered more than I did.
Papa often came into my room most nights after Mother went to bed. I would
be sleeping in my bed and then awoke to the unwelcome aroma of his shaving powder.
His hands slowly went under my nightgown, and his calloused fingertips traced the
most intimate and developed parts of my body. He frightened me. I quickly shuttered,
and my eyes widened. A quieted hush came from his bourbon-scented lips, as he
whispered vulgarities in my ear, and both his eyes and mind danced in vile, perfect
unison.
be sleeping in my bed and then awoke to the unwelcome aroma of his shaving powder.
His hands slowly went under my nightgown, and his calloused fingertips traced the
most intimate and developed parts of my body. He frightened me. I quickly shuttered,
and my eyes widened. A quieted hush came from his bourbon-scented lips, as he
whispered vulgarities in my ear, and both his eyes and mind danced in vile, perfect
unison.
Hellish nights with Papa sneaking into my room continued for years. However,
everything changed that particular night. I tried hard to keep my powers a secret and
use them for a greater good. God knows I did. However, my Aunt Tabitha, my mother's
youngest sister, always said to me, "Little Girl, when you corner a black snake it's
always going to strike."
everything changed that particular night. I tried hard to keep my powers a secret and
use them for a greater good. God knows I did. However, my Aunt Tabitha, my mother's
youngest sister, always said to me, "Little Girl, when you corner a black snake it's
always going to strike."
I laid there in bed, as he continued giving in to his perversions. The longer I laid still
the angrier I became and finally had enough. My eyes watered and breathing was heavy.
the angrier I became and finally had enough. My eyes watered and breathing was heavy.
"Stop it, Papa," I protested just above a low whisper that was parallel to his raspy,
vulgar voice. He ignored me and proceeded. I protested louder, "Papa, please stop!"
vulgar voice. He ignored me and proceeded. I protested louder, "Papa, please stop!"
Papa suddenly stopped. He raised from the bed and knelt over me. Enraged, Papa
exhaled deeply between his snarling lips. Many awkward seconds passed before he
raised his hands and struck me across the face.
exhaled deeply between his snarling lips. Many awkward seconds passed before he
raised his hands and struck me across the face.
"You damned-fool girl," he growled. "I am your father, and you will never speak to
me that way again!"
me that way again!"
Papa's hand raised again to strike me. Unfamiliar incantations fell off my lips, as I
waved my hands upward, levitating Papa high into the air. His eyes widened with fear.
My eyes blared at him and radiated a massive flame like burning embers.
waved my hands upward, levitating Papa high into the air. His eyes widened with fear.
My eyes blared at him and radiated a massive flame like burning embers.
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," he said between frightened gasps, as his eyes
were locked on me. "Burn in hell, Daughter of Lucifer."
The flames from my eyes strengthened, as my rage became unquenching. "You shall
burn in the flames of hell first, Papa!" I shouted enraged.
burn in the flames of hell first, Papa!" I shouted enraged.
My attention remained on him with more intensity, as my hands suddenly formed a
fist. Papa's body contorted with each bending of my fingers. Massive screams exhaled
from him until his heart exploded and he died instantly. His lifeless, mangled body fell
on the floor beside my bed and formed into a pentagram. My eyes stopped glowing, as
his body burst into flames and his ashes engraved the floor.
fist. Papa's body contorted with each bending of my fingers. Massive screams exhaled
from him until his heart exploded and he died instantly. His lifeless, mangled body fell
on the floor beside my bed and formed into a pentagram. My eyes stopped glowing, as
his body burst into flames and his ashes engraved the floor.
Mother heard the commotion. She ran into the room. The sight of Papa's burnt mangled
body seemed to have violently rattled her, as she screamed. One of her hands covered
her gaping mouth, as the other hand pushed my little sister Abigail behind her. She was
too young to witness such a horrific sight.
body seemed to have violently rattled her, as she screamed. One of her hands covered
her gaping mouth, as the other hand pushed my little sister Abigail behind her. She was
too young to witness such a horrific sight.
I stood numb, gaping with tears flowing down my face with both shame and regret.
There was no question what happened, as Mother learned in that moment her beloved
daughter was a witch. It was evident to Mother it was challenging to rule his death a
general accident. Knowing the townspeople would burn me at the stake for being a witch,
Mother sent Abigail and me to stay with Aunt Tabitha until everything calmed.
There was no question what happened, as Mother learned in that moment her beloved
daughter was a witch. It was evident to Mother it was challenging to rule his death a
general accident. Knowing the townspeople would burn me at the stake for being a witch,
Mother sent Abigail and me to stay with Aunt Tabitha until everything calmed.
The stench of burning flesh still lingered days later. Mother tried to cover the rotting
smell up as best she could with mulch and spices, but nothing seemed to help. A week
passed when Papa began to be missed by some folks in town. Mother told them he
was injured while hunting, but everyone became suspicious. The townspeople arrived
and raided our home. They, like my mother and Abigail, discovered the burnt
pentagram image on my bedroom floor and were evidently horrified.
Instead of me, the townspeople accused Mother of witchcraft. They took her immediately
into town, as they were unanimously confident only a witch could have done such a
heinous, violent act. She was to be arrested, tried as a witch and then burned at
the stake by sundown.
into town, as they were unanimously confident only a witch could have done such a
heinous, violent act. She was to be arrested, tried as a witch and then burned at
the stake by sundown.
* * * * *
A gentleman knocked on Aunt Tabitha's door later that same evening. Abigail and I hid
quietly, as we overheard in the distance a gentleman encouraging Aunt Tabitha to attend
another witch-burning and for her to bring any young girls in the house to witness the
burning. When Tabitha asked him who the witch was, the gentleman informed her the
witch's name was Eugenia Swift, my mother. I lightly gasped, and my eyes watered.
I embraced Abigail and cupped her ears with my hands, so she wouldn't hear the news.
quietly, as we overheard in the distance a gentleman encouraging Aunt Tabitha to attend
another witch-burning and for her to bring any young girls in the house to witness the
burning. When Tabitha asked him who the witch was, the gentleman informed her the
witch's name was Eugenia Swift, my mother. I lightly gasped, and my eyes watered.
I embraced Abigail and cupped her ears with my hands, so she wouldn't hear the news.
Aunt Tabitha appeared to act unphased, as any indication our mother was her sister might
cause the gentleman to raid the home and find my sister and me. The powers in me began
to make my arm twitch. I wanted to use my magic to help Mother but also knew my
appearance would mean trouble for me as well. Abigail and I were declared missing,
and we all knew if they found us Abigail would be sent to the local orphanage. I would
lose a mother by nightfall but wasn't about to lose a sister as well.
cause the gentleman to raid the home and find my sister and me. The powers in me began
to make my arm twitch. I wanted to use my magic to help Mother but also knew my
appearance would mean trouble for me as well. Abigail and I were declared missing,
and we all knew if they found us Abigail would be sent to the local orphanage. I would
lose a mother by nightfall but wasn't about to lose a sister as well.
Keeping the truth about what happened to Mother from Abigail was a more difficult task
than I imagined. She asked me daily about Mother and wanted to know when we would
finally return home. Not knowing the answer, I would merely kiss her forehead and replied
with a simple, "Soon, Sweet Abigail. I promise."
than I imagined. She asked me daily about Mother and wanted to know when we would
finally return home. Not knowing the answer, I would merely kiss her forehead and replied
with a simple, "Soon, Sweet Abigail. I promise."
After all, it was the only thing I could do.
* * * * *
Evening finally arrived. Aunt Tabitha and I sat and wept in the quietness of her house. We
began mourning for Mother. My concern turned to Abigail, as I was sure it would be the
first of many days I would become both her sister and mother. Guilt coursed through me,
as nothing about the situation was fair.
began mourning for Mother. My concern turned to Abigail, as I was sure it would be the
first of many days I would become both her sister and mother. Guilt coursed through me,
as nothing about the situation was fair.
"This is all my fault," I said, racked with guilt. "Mother would be alive right now if it
wasn't for me. The devil touched me, and I was foolish enough to let him."
wasn't for me. The devil touched me, and I was foolish enough to let him."
Aunt Tabitha stood, grabbed me by the shoulders and hugged me. "Hush now, Child,"
she protested. "Your father was the one touched by the devil. That evil, vile man! Like I
said before, a snake will always strike when it feels cornered, and you were cornered."
she protested. "Your father was the one touched by the devil. That evil, vile man! Like I
said before, a snake will always strike when it feels cornered, and you were cornered."
"You don't understand," I pleaded. "I did that to Papa. My powers killed him. I am a
daughter of Lucifer. I am a witch!"
daughter of Lucifer. I am a witch!"
"You are a daughter of Eugenia Swift, and I will hear not another word," Aunt Tabitha
protested. "Do you understand, Child?"
protested. "Do you understand, Child?"
It was bizarre hearing my precious aunt act as though my being a witch didn't
matter to her. Then again, Aunt Tabitha always thought outside the box and was
ahead of her time. Instead of questioning her actions, I simply nodded my head
and changed the subject.
matter to her. Then again, Aunt Tabitha always thought outside the box and was
ahead of her time. Instead of questioning her actions, I simply nodded my head
and changed the subject.
"I need to tell Abigail about Mother," I said. "Is she resting in her room?"
"Yes, I believe," she said. "Do you need me to go with you?"
"No, Aunt Tabitha," I replied. "I need to do this myself."
I wiped my eyes, hurried to her bedroom door and lightly knocked. "Sweet Abigail," I
said kind and aloud. "May I please enter? We need to speak of something."
said kind and aloud. "May I please enter? We need to speak of something."
A few seconds passed, and she never responded to me. I knocked again louder, calling out
to Abigail but no sound came from the room. I attempted to open the door and discovered
it was locked. Frantically, my eyes glowed like fire again, as I stood back and stretched
out my hand. The wrought-iron deadbolt clicked and unlocked the bedroom door. My
eyes went back to normal, and my powers felt disengaged from my emotions.
I hurried into the room to find nothing but an open window. My worst fear
happened. Abigail was gone. A clairvoyant feeling suddenly came over me, as a
specific vision played out in my mind. Panic clutched me, as I saw in the vision
my sister's whereabouts. Great Mother of God! Abigail went to Mother's execution.
Aunt Tabitha and I hurried out of the house and took the horse into town. God
only knew we had to get to Abigail before it was too late.
happened. Abigail was gone. A clairvoyant feeling suddenly came over me, as a
specific vision played out in my mind. Panic clutched me, as I saw in the vision
my sister's whereabouts. Great Mother of God! Abigail went to Mother's execution.
Aunt Tabitha and I hurried out of the house and took the horse into town. God
only knew we had to get to Abigail before it was too late.
