Weighted Innocence
I saw the prompt from @alexprompts and just had to try it! I realize it might be a little late though (I didn’t realize how far ahead AEST time was of EST) but here it is anyway!
The water is cold. It sloshes around my ankles as two men drag me towards the boat. I know them both- we worked at the annual Christmas festival together. Now if they look at me, they look at me with disgust. To them, I’m less than one of the help. Now, I’m one of the accused. My trial is today-the final test to see if I’m a witch. Today is the day I’m going to die. The test is simple: if you sink, you’re innocent. If you float, you’re guilty. Few survive the first of the tests. I know of no one who’s survived the final trial. I’m not sure anyone would want to.
They’ve bound my wrists with thick rope normally used on slaves that get out of hand. I wouldn’t have fought them. Where would I run? There’s nowhere for accused witches to hide. By sundown, news of an escaped witch will have reached the next couple of towns over.
I feel everyone’s stares on me. A crowd has gathered at the banks of the lake just to see me drown. The two men throw me into the boat and start rowing towards the center of the lake. I try to remember the humid air that comes with all sunny days- the feel of the rough wood beneath me.I try to remember the warm looks people greeted me with before I became accused. They were so different from the maniac smiles I get now. Maybe once I die, people will regret what they did. I’ll never find out. There are no windows in hell.
They tie the weights to my legs first, then to my arms. My skin burns under all the rope. I don’t want to die. Not like this. But what other choice do I have?
I don’t expect them to push me overboard so soon. I shut my mouth, trying not to breath in more water than air. I can’t die. Not like this. I’ll be forgotten in a week. My body will be left as food for the fish, the leftovers decaying under a thick blanket of waves. I won’t even get a proper burial. The image of my broken body scalds my brain.
I’m losing air. Water presses at my lungs- my eyes. I wave my arms behind my back but they’re weighted down. If only I could untie the ropes. I can. My hands can still move. I grab at the knot, picking with my fingernails. It doesn’t budge. Please God help me now. He knows I’m innocent. He has to help- the knot loosens. My heart jumps, squeezing my lungs. Seconds pass. I shrug the weights off my arms. I’m almost to the bottom of the lake now. My hands claw at the rope that binds my feet. I don’t have much time.
My vision is edging black when the rope gives and falls off. Air. I need air. My legs thrash in the water, pushing me away from the bottom. My hands grab at nothing. My lungs are burning when I break the surface, coughing up water.
I hear the screams before I see the horrified looks of the crowd. I remember where I am. I smoke coming off their expressions and realize why no one has survived the water. I realize I should’ve drowned.
