Dear Journal,

Are you capable of hate? Will you be ashamed of me after I write down this horrible incident I bore witness to and called for?

It's come to the point where I've begun to question my own sanity. Guilt is consuming me. I want to forget it ever happened. I want to ignore it. But alas I can't. I have to acknowledge that it happened. Rather than aloud, I will write it down while my face burns hot with shame and I gulp down the knot constantly forming in my throat.

Last night, the gates were opened to let Juliet and my mother in. The crowd wanted to run in, but Samson made it clear that he'd let me leave on one condition: That only my mother and Juliet step in. Juliet and my mother assured the mob that they'd be fine, they were professional witch hunters.

Even after they stepped in and the gates closed, the people outside stood watching. We went inside the mansion, out the back door, into the garden, out the back of the garden, and into the dark forest.

Samson and my mother each carried an oil lamp. She also held the hunting box on the other hand. Juliet carried a pistol, and I carried Samson's blunderbuss. Tara walked in front of Samson and my mother.. with her hands held behind her back and tied up in rope. My sister and I walked behind them.

We marched on until we reached the lake. I remembered seeing it while riding on Jeffrey's coach wagon. I'd imagined having a picnic there with Tara, how happy we would have been. Now here we were, as miserable as can be.

I caught Juliet looking at me. I glanced. She gave me a pitiful frown and looked away. Perhaps she thought me a fool for falling in love with a vampire or witch.

I peered past the shoulders of my mother and Samson. Tara walked with her head held high, the hem of her white sleeping gown turning green and brown from sliding along the wet grass.

Oddly enough, the heavy rain had come to a light drizzle. By the time we reached the edge of the lake, the rain had stopped.

Looking up, I saw that the clouds had moved away from the moon. At least we wouldn't need the oil lamps anymore.

My mother set her lamp and box down on the damp rock. The smell of petrichor filled my lungs with its pleasant scent. However, the present situation was anything but pleasant.

"What would you like us to do, ma'm?" Samson asked nervously.

"First," my mother replied while kneeling down to open the box, "we will begin by tying your daughter with rope."

"B-but she already has rope around her wrists," he stammered.

"Yes, but that would only make it easier for her to pass the test," explained Juliet.

My mother handed her a piece of rope, which she took and tied around the hem of Tara's gown. My mother then shut the box and tied a longer piece of rope around Tara's waist, making sure to keep her arms trapped under the same rope. Juliet knotted it at the back so a longer piece extended from behind her.

"This is so we may pull her up," Juliet says.

"You are familiar with this test, are you not Mr. Wakersfields?" asked my mother.

"No, but I have an inkling of what it may be," Samson answered.

"It's called 'swimming the witch'. The accused witch will be tied up and tossed into a deep body of water. If she sinks, she's innocent. If she floats, she's a witch," Juliet clarified.

Samson's eyes widened in alarm. "How will you get her out if she's innocent?"

"By pulling the rope, of course," my mother smirked.

Samson ran a hand over his face. He cautiously approached Tara, who's back was turned to me. She was facing the moonlit lake.

I heard him whisper, "Daughter, do you truly wish to go through with this?"

She turned her head slightly and I watched her orange curls fall over her shoulder.

"Yes, more certainly than anything. I have to prove to them our innocence. This is the only way- my only chance to end these years of enmity and feuds. I will go through with this."

"Daughter," a glistening tear slid down his cheek.

"Don't fret, my father. After this, they will never come to us with false accusations."

He pulled her body into an embrace. Her arms could not do anything, so she leaned her head on his chest.

"Blessed am I for having a courageous young lady as a daughter. I love you," he kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too, father."

"That's enough now," my mother interrupted with a slight irritation in her voice. "Step away so we may commence."

Samson obeyed and stepped aside. He sucked in a breath and stood next to me.

We watched as Juliet took the extended piece of rope and walked back. My mother led Tara to the edge of the lake.

It was a peculiar sight, really. Their bodies were merely silhouettes shadowed by the moonlight. That mystic light only reflected itself onto the passive surface of water. It glistened and sparkled, as if beckoning and welcoming a long awaited beauty into its equally beautiful, watery grave.

I side-eyed Tara's father. He had his hands clasped tightly, as a gentleman who patiently waits. He became more apprehensive as Tara neared the precipice. Samson bit his lip and began slowly rocking on his heels.

I turned my focus to where I did not wish it. I found it harder to breath with each step she took. Closer and closer, she came ever nearer to the still water. My heart beat fast. Suddenly, the smell of wet rock was not as soothing as before. I felt nauseated.

All at once, it came down to one question. Was this really necessary? Perhaps a series of mere coincidences had thrown me into a spiral of theories and nonexistent patterns that I had crafted. Perhaps I was delusional.

After all, I'd always been a recluse. An antisocial who only ever went outside to sell his paintings and return with the same paintings he'd brought out. Who's to say I didn't go insane?

It wasn't until I'd seen Tara.. painted her.. spoke with her that a new light shone into my life. Her smile pushed away the heavy clouds and darkness in my head. And what have I given in return? 

I offered a ring and a promise, only to take it away in less than an hour and replace it with ropes. She'd shared with me her happiness and I tore down her dignity. Soon, I'd be stealing this innocent father's precious daughter. Soon, I'd be sacrificing her innocent life to the fathomless lake.

My breath caught in my throat when Tara and my mother stopped at the very edge of the rock.

"Stop," I whispered. "STOP."

Juliet and my mother turned around. So did Samson.

"Kenneth," my mother hissed. "What is it? Quickly now!"

"This... This is wrong."

"It's right," Juliet calmly defended. "We have to find out the truth once and for all."

"No. No! This test is outdated, no one in their right mind should believe them or so much as practice them!"

I stepped forward. "This is nonsense, we must end it."

"I thought this was what you wanted," Juliet said as I passed by her.

"I don't," I laughed while nearing the cliff. "Not anymore!"

I reached Tara's hands, when my mother slapped mine. A sting shot through my hands and I flinched back.

"Mother," I stared at her in disbelief.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" She screeched.

"Untying her!" I yelled back.

"Like hell you are! They've got you deceived! This wench has got you seduced! Ignore those impulses, they're trying to control you!"

"Mother! Have you lost your mind? These are MY thoughts-"

SMACK!

She struck me across the face. I held a hand up to my cheek. It burned, but not as fiery as the determination in my eyes.

"Let her go," I said through gritted teeth.

"No."

"Let her go," I repeated.

"Get back, dammit. Get back."

"I won't."

"JULIET! TIE THIS POOR BOY UP," she commanded.

"Don't!" I warned, stepping back as Juliet approached me with a rope. I didn't want to hit my sister, but the ongoing predicament would have encouraged me to do so.

"Ken, please," she urged, coming closer to me. "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

"Juliet stop!" I ordered while backing up. "Why can't you understand- it's YOU TWO WHO HAVE LOST THEIR MINDS!"

She shook her head sadly. "I never thought they'd have this much power over you. Let me help you. I only wish for your safety."

She couldn't have said it at a better time. The blood rose up to my head and I felt my face grow cold- the air I inhaled was frozen. She dropped the rope as I stepped onto a missing chunk of rock. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. My body tilted and I fell off the precipice.