Visions in Flames

Mirrors

My mother had been given the word that Father had been killed by highwaymen. He had lost his life over a few gold coins and a saddle. She became a widow whose pension was too small to allow her to keep her land. She had been forced to move us into a lodging house. Her husband recently dead with her still mourning,she found herself pregnant.

Rumors began to swirl around town, women saying that Mary Worth trafficked with the devil, the child she carried within her womb was not natural. I heard it in the store, Goody Bishop saying that it was the Antichrist that Mary Worth carried within her. Never bothering to keep her voice down, I am sure she wanted me to hear the accusations. The small circle of midwives and rich wives hung on Goody Bishop's every word.

I knew then that no woman would help my mother when her time came, I was her only hope. I wrote to Grandfather in Boston, telling him the news. Another grandchild, God willing, a boy this time. A boy to replace his son that had been killed. Grandfather agreed to send a doctor from Boston to assist in the birth. If he believed the rumors, he gave no indication. Grandmother, however, helped fuel the rumors. She had always believed Mother had bewitched Father, she believed Mother was beneath Father.Grandmother had always said that Mother was from poor stock, the daughter of a farmer.

The doctor brought in from Boston was a man of science. He gave no thought to Goody Bishop's words of Devil Spawn and Antichrist. Scoffing at her, he maintained his beliefs.

"Many widows have given birth to their deceased husband's child after his death. Surely, in this modern time, there is no corner left for the devil to hide."

Mother's due date came closer, she was larger than any other woman at their time.

"A sure sign of the devil. A Devil Spawn will always grow large. ." Goody Bishop continued with her spiteful rumors. Smug grin on her face as she spread the vicious rumors.

The doctor scoffed at Goody Bishop, "Not a sign of the devil. Perhaps a sign of twins." The spiteful Goody Bishop continued her assault on Mother.

Mother's time came and went. Goody Bishop began spreading more of her lies, "It's proof that it's the devil's child! There is no way that Malcolm Worth fathered that abomination."

It wasn't long after that the child was born. My mother screamed as the child was ripped from her. My brother was born a deformed frail thing. His eyes were too large for his head, his back was flayed open. Good Bishop, who had snuck in, stood in the doorway screeching that she knew it. The doctor could not force her out of the room. I watched, helpless, as he placed the cloth over my mother’s mouth and poured the ether on it. He shuddered as he wrapped my brother in a blanket, muttering himself that the devil was alive and well in this household..

I cried for my brother, a child who did not ask to be born a monster. I knew he would be killed. A child born a monster would never be allowed to love. I arranged the pillows under my mother’s head, covering her with a blanket. I slowly crept out of the room as the doctor began packing up his supplies.

As I pulled the door closed, Pastor Bailey came up to me, "When did your mother marry Satan? It is a demon, tell me child! Save your own soul, or have you too traffic with Lucifer.”

I told the truth, my brother was not the devil's son. No words I could say would sway the court of public opinion. They had already pronounced my mother guilty, all that was left was her sentence.

Mother woke disoriented demanding her child. Mother was dragged from her birthing bed, hours after my brother's birth and death. Still bleeding from the birth of her child, she was locked in a cell. Trying to inject some levity, the doctor insisted on a trial.

“We are in the age of reason, not backwater superstition.” The doctor argued, but no trial was to be served. Mary Worth had lost her son and husband. Now, she would lose her life. She was sentenced to be hung by her neck until she was dead.

I watched as she was carried to the gallows,her legs unable to hold her weight. The noose slipped over her head, her face covered with a black hood. My mind began to wander as my hand slid into my apron pocket. I thought about the stories our old slave woman told me, a mirror will capture the soul of the damned. I could not think of anyone more damned than Mary Worth. My fingers curled around the small mirror. I pulled it out andI held it by my waist with the mirrored side towards Mother.

I prayed to the Devil to allow Mother's soul to travel into the mirror. I watched as my mother, Mary Worth, swung back and forth. I stayed until the crowd had dispersed, I stayed as they cut her down. She will be buried by my brother in the Potter's Field. On unconsecrated ground, ensuring she will never see Heaven. I do not wish for her to see Heaven, I wish that she will have her revenge. Taking an innocent child, monster born or not, and killing it, that is a crime. It will be avenged, she will be seen in the mirrors of those who separated her from her child. Those that had called the Devil’s Bride, well, they will meet her. They will see her in the shadows of their reflections, waiting and watching. They will remember her, and when they think of her they will give her the strength to enact her revenge. Stepping from their mirror and into their souls.