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In the spring of 1692, Lizzie burned at the stake. Reincarnated in the 21st century, she finds herself riding a pick-up truck off to a music festival with the reincarnation of the girls that burned with her. And the driver? William, the lover that left her without an explanation. William’s charm in this lifetime is as irresistible as it used to be and she can't deny the longing she feels. To find peace and happiness, she was tasked by a quirky deity to avenge herself and the other ‘witches’ from the people that wronged them. But how was she going to find out who were the ones that wronged the other girls? In her quest for justice, Lizzie will discover the best (and worst) of both worlds of the colonial era and the 21st century as she goes back and forth into her dreams, visions, and reality. Will she succeed with her revenge and find happiness too? ========== DRAMATIC EXCERPT: "Lizzie, please don't forget that I love you." Will said as he clutched his shirt near his chest. "I never stopped loving you Elizabeth Ainsworth." He took a step forward to reach out for me and I shielded myself with my hands. "Don't come near me, you filthy bastard!" I screamed at him, enraged with his lies. I closed my eyes as I stepped backwards and held back my tears. "You did nothing to defend me from your father!" "No Lizzie, I did what I could. I -" his voice faded and I was left in the parking lot, dazed and my arms crossed as if to shield myself from his advance. When I blinked, William vanished and Bash came back into sight. He gave me a questioning look and asked, "Ummm.. What are you doing Lizzie?" My eyes darted from Bash's head to toe and he gave a nervous laugh at my reaction. I breathed short and heavy gasps and my sweat went cold. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He said. ========= UPDATES INDEFINITE Coverphoto grabbed from pinterest, it will be taken down should the owner request to. If you know the original artist then please inform me so i can add proper credits
My name is Elizabeth Ainsworth and this is how I died and lived again.
I was born in the sixteenth hundred in the colonial towns of Shalem as a poor man's eldest daughter. Father made a living out of farming on borrowed land and mother tended to my younger siblings, Jane, Georgina and Cory, age fifteen, twelve and five respectively.
I on the other hand, age of seventeen, helped within the house. I cooked, washed, fed the chickens and sometimes tilled the land when father would be too sick to work. I was a good daughter who attended mass with my family and kept myself pure.
We were dirt poor but somehow, father always made sure we had food at the table. Even if it meant he and mother didn't get to eat their share just to provide us children.
Education was only for the privileged and wealthy. Even as I dreamed to go to school, all we could ever afford was our daily needs. No more, no less. Not to mention girls weren't actually allowed to school.
So yes, sadly my dreams stayed in my imagination and will never turn to reality.
Our house was a little hut at the edge of town near a forest. It was a pretty little thing with lots of fruit bearing trees and perennial wild berries. Sometimes when the weather was hot, I would laze under an apple tree with my younger siblings and just stare at the leaves swaying as the summer winds blew, the sound of children's giggles echoing.
The farm lot was loaned to us by the local ministry and in exchange, we provided them most of our produce. The rest we managed to sell to nearby markets.
When I was eight, father went to town to sell and I tagged along promising I wouldn't ask for anything and just kept quite. Father acquiesced and I walked with him while he pulled at our measly cart of goods. When we arrived to town, I stared at the signages that hanged outside shops.
The letters all sprawled everywhere sparked my love for reading even at the time I didn't know how to.
After that, I would sometimes sneak into town on my own (after finishing all my chores of course) and just stroll to see whatever I could practice on. It was a town of hustle and I kept myself away from drunkards and shady looking people.
Teaching myself was hard, and I had little to no progress at all.
It was at that time that I met him.
William Bernards, the son of a local merchant. He had been strolling around town with his crisp and ironed clothes and leather shoes, he exuded money all over him. He had the darkest raven hair and his eyes were a beautiful shade of purple.
I was at a storefront painstakingly trying to read the letters printed at the glasses when he came up and stroke up a conversation.
He said he noticed my mouth struggling to utter the words, and helped me read. Will pointed out individually the letters whilst demonstrating how they were pronounced. He had a small dimple when he spoke and smiled it became more prominent.
He was magic.
Quite amazingly, he wasn't like the other wealthy children who were smug and overly narcissistic. He was kind and friendly he didn't even mind my crumpled stained dress and dusty nose.
A girl like me had no resistance to such a charming boy and at the age of ten, I had my first love.
"See you around Lizzie." he said to me as we separated ways after our first meeting.
"Yeah, see you around Will. Thank you for your time." I replied as I waved my hand goodbye.
At that time, I never knew that love would eventually hurt me. I was young and naïve, too innocent to understand the huge gap between Will and I.
On the spring of 1692, age of twenty-one, I burned at the stake. I was accused with witchcraft and nobody was able to help me even as I wailed and cried out for justice.
The other girls who burned with me, had their spirits beat up so bad even a small cry wasn't heard up until the prosecutor had lit us with his torch.
I peered down and saw him there in the middle of the crowd, his hat pulled down. I wanted to see his face once more so I won't forget.
The face of a traitor.
We started off as innocent children who shared the love for reading, and our puppy love grown to be passion. He would ride his horse towards the forest near our little patch of land and there we professed our love to each other.
We were star-crossed lovers, hiding our love in secrecy. Him as a wealthy only son and heir to the Bernards' Trading Co., and me a poor damsel who tilled soil and fed the chickens with nothing to my name.
"I love you Elizabeth Ainsworth, don't ever forget that no matter what happens, I will always love you." Will told me after he professed his intentions of asking my hand in marriage.
"I love you more William Bernards. I may be poor, but I am rich with your love." I responded, teary eyed. Never did I think that all of our plans would come to a sudden end. I felt like I was in the clouds and nothing could bring me down.
And yet, here we were. Me at the stake burning, him with the crowd that indicted me into this sorry state.
William didn't defend me when his father accused me of bewitching him. He only sat quiet, didn't speak a word when I was brought to court to be prosecuted if I was guilty or not. It wasn't a shock to me that he didn't but it still hurts.
Of course, why would he defend me?
Shalem was a Puritan town, he wouldn't want to be associated to a witch. To be accused of witchcraft meant only one thing.
Death.
And to be associated with a witch would doom him and his family's business. He loved me, but apparently that love wasn't enough.
I jerked back to reality as I started to feel the creeping fire that burned my flesh. The stench of human flesh and blood wafted to my nostrils and I choked as I tried to hold back tears.
Will was now staring at me, his eyes welled up with tears.
"I love you." he mouthed.
I snorted and choked once more as I inhaled toxic fumes.
Funny he said that. His actions didn't say so.
I looked up above the heavens and saw the full moon shining bright. The night was a beautiful midnight blue, the skies speckled with thousands of stars that twinkled in a calming manner.
But no matter how wonderful the skies were, it wasn't enough to sooth my woes.
As much as I tried to be brave, my tears fell down and I cursed the fate I was given. We weren't anything but women who didn't stand in their normal. We weren't evil.
Shalem and all the people in it are.
I closed my eyes and cried out in anguish.
The songs of other tormented women in perfect harmony.
I opened my eyes and saw a shooting star and I wished.
If ever Will and I would meet in another life, I'd make sure he will pay for breaking my heart.
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