Visions in Flames

Old Betty lived deep in the woods outside our village, some claimed she was a witch. It did not matter to me, Old Betty helped with the sick, she brought babies into this world. Old Betty had helped heal my grandfather, bringing herbs and poultices almost daily. The doctors with their modern medicine did all they could do, saying that it was fatal. But Old Betty came and nursed him back to health, the drinks smelled like the dead. But Grandfather drank them and Old Betty stayed by his side. Though she was respected by everyone in our village, none called her friend. None but Rawhead. Rawhead was a mean looking old boar with scars crossing his head, but that old boar loved Old Betty. He would follow her around when she would visit the village to help with the sick; often sitting outside the homes of those Old Betty healed, he sat by Grandfather's back door everyday waiting for Old Betty. For many years, that old boar followed Old Betty. A few years ago, or was it last year? I don't remember, time has lost all meaning here. Rawhead was killed; shot by Parson Hutchinson. Parson Hutchinson had been out in the woods trying to find meat for the village. It had been a bad winter, game was scarce. The harvest that fall had been small, we were coming to accept that we may all starve. That one boar, large enough to feed most of the village, saved us. Though no one knew it was Rawhead until spring, when Old Betty came wandering into the village calling for her Rawhead. It was then that we realized the mistake that had been made. Parson Hutchinson had kept the bones of Rawhead, we did not know why. Now I wonder if he knew it had been Rawhead.If he knew that the only way to save us from starving was to kill Rawhead. Parson Hutchinson buried Rawhead in the church cemetery, a peace offering to Old Betty. The ground was still frozen, it took him three days to dig a deep enough hole to bury the bones of the old boar. After placing the last shovel of dirt on Rawhead, Parson Hutchinson took the long walk into the woods to break the news. I followed Parson Hutchinson, I wanted to help explain to Old Betty that it was not out of hatred for her that Rawhead was killed. I stayed behind the large oak tree that stood in front of her home, realizing that nothing I said would help. I strained to hear as Parson Hutchinson explained what had happened to Rawhead. I watched as she leaned against the door frame, her legs refusing to hold her up any longer. From my hiding spot I saw the dark clouds gathering in her eyes, the angry tears beginning to fall. Parson Hutchinson hurried back to warn the village of her anger, quietly praying that he would not suffer the punishment alone. Quietly, I crept back to the village, determined to say nothing about what I had heard. A silence swept over the village, dark clouds gathered in the sky mirroring the clouds in Old Betty's eyes. We all knew that her wrath would be poured over our village, after all, we had all eaten Rawhead. Doors shut and shutters slammed as she stormed into the village, heading straight to the church cemetery. Lightning flashed as she stood over the recent grave of her beloved Rawhead, tilting her head to the left as she studied the rough wooden cross with Rawhead etched into it. She began muttering, the words lost on the wind that was beginning to pick up. Lightning flashed and thunder roared as she raised her hands into the air, fists clenched. Purple lightning struck the rough cross, splitting it in two; the ground rolled and settled. The entire village held its breath as Old Betty walked back into the woods. As she passed, a small smile played on her lips, the villagers knew that punishment would follow soon. At sunset, a storm blew in, uprooting trees and toppling fenceposts. It raged for what seemed like hours, though it was barely an hour. After the it had played itself out, it left meekly blanketing the village and the woods in silence. The air seemed to be waiting anxiously and the animals watching with dread. As night fully fell, we climbed into our beds. The witching hour came, I was awoken by the sound of earth shifting in the still night air. A soft melody heard in the night. I got out of bed to see who was reckless enough to sing during this time, eyes widening as I saw Old Betty walking the streets in a black cloak; sweet voice filling the silence. I was not the only child to hear the song, many of my school mates and neighbors poked their heads out of their windows and doors. I watched as Elizabeth Hutchinson snuck out her front door, smiling and following Old Betty through the streets. The song that was sung was becoming louder and louder, though the words indistinguishable. Grief had drove the old witch mad, I shook my head as I looked closer. She the hood of the cloak pulled down over her eyes, but I could see the glint white. It was pure white, like that of the bone handled herb knife Old Betty used to cut down herbs. I tried to look under the hood as she neared my home, trying to catch a glimpse of the smile that I was sure was there. But as she walked past my window and looked, my breath caught in my throat. The empty sockets of Rawhead’s skull looked up at me; teeth bared in a parmanent smile. The soft song coming from its lipless jaw. I turned to wake Father, but changed my mind. I slipped out the window to follow them. Through the streets we walked, other children joining as we passed their homes; past the church that held the now empty gave of Rawhead. We walked past Old Betty’s home, I spied her in a rocking chair on her porch with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. Walking deep into the woods, I became lost and wanted to turn back, but the soft melody urged me forward. I don’t believe I would have been able to turn back if I had trued. Unsure of where I was, I had no choice but to follw Rawhead. Soon, when I thought I couldn’t walk any longer, we came upon Rawhead’s home nestled in the roots of the Great Cedar. Following him and the children down into the dirty cave, words began to accompany the soft melody: Rawhead and Bloody Bones Steals naughty children from their homes, Takes them to his dirty den, Never to be seen again