What Would Happen If We All Went Away?

CHAPTER 10: ELIYA

“Burn her! Burn the witch!” they chanted. At this point I’ve been at this same post 6 times, and everytime they say the same things despite my protests. I’ve given up the idea that I can sleep without having this dreaded nightmare of these ill-humane townspeople.

“Burn her! Burn the bloody McCarthy girl!” 

    McCarthy? Wait. Did I miss something? My name isn’t McCarthy it’s St. Claire. Wasn’t my mother’s maiden name McCarthy? As I was frantically trying to get lose, wiggling, pulling, anything to get off the post, the priest said in my ear,

“I hope you go to hell Rose McCarthy”.

    I woke up with a jolt. The burning fire, still sizzling on the surface of my skin. I go to my bathroom and lock the door. My mind is spinning and I am in desperate need of some advil. As I rummage through my vanity drawers I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I look, ghostly. Like a translucent piece of tissue paper. The color of my face is pale and dry, my hair matted to the perimeter of my face with my now dried blood. My outfit, if you can even call it that, once stalk white is now splattered with dark crimson.

    I should be used to this, my reflection tattered and disgusting. But it’s never looked this bad. I feel like I’m almost drifting away, not even here at all.