Chapter Thirty Two (Amaya)

I was furious I was surrounded by liars; they must think I am quite the fool. I am so stupid. How could I have been so blind? How could they keep all of this from me?

“Amaya?” Abigail asked as I felt her hand on my back, I stood and moved away from her, I didn’t want to be bothered. They acted like it was no big deal, just dropped it all on me. How was I supposed to process everything? What did they expect?

“Please leave me alone.” I mumbled as I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes so I could focus on everything that I had been told, trying to digest the information and the fact that in a few days or hours, I would be executed.

I longed to be home, with my books curled up in my bed, drinking coffee and reading the next book on my list. Gods, how I missed coffee, hot baths, and pizza. I could go for a pizza. I wiped the tears away with my sleeve.

Well, if I was going to be executed, mine as well make sure I go out looking like me. When Samuel gets back, I will get him to retrieve my bag of clothes and jewelry from Abigail’s cabin. At least as a ghost I would look like me. Frowning down at the dress I was wearing; I removed the bonnet and let my hair down. I quickly braided it so it fell over my shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Abigail asked me.

“I won’t die in a costume. If I am going to be executed, I am going to look like me and I hate this dress.” I stated as I took off the top layers, leaving me with nothing but the slip I was wearing underneath.

“You are not decent, dear. Put it back on.”

“No. Woman in MY time wear less than this and I won’t spend my last few hours alive in this itchy, uncomfortable get up.”

“I suppose you have a point.” She laughed as she took her bonnet off and undid her long grey hair, so it fell loose around her shoulders. “That’s better. Having it up all the time gives me a headache.”

I curled up on my discarded clothing and tried to sleep, but it eluded me again. I looked around the dark room, trying to distract myself. Board I walked to the bars and peered outside, nearly jumping out of my skin when Lazarus appeared in front of me.”

“For fuck's sake.” I yelled. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” He smiled, then looked at me and turned away.

“You aren’t dressed.”

“No, I refuse to wear this garbage anymore. Speaking of which, I need you to go to Abigail’s and behind a loose stone in the fireplace is a bag. Can you bring it back here?”

“Why?”

“Why should I tell you, liar?” I spat angrily.

A look of guilt crossed his face before he nodded, “I’ll go get them right away.” He grabbed my hand that was holding the bar, “I would’ve told you everything if I could have Amaya. I didn’t like keeping things from you.” He professed, as his eyes swirled a darker blue.

I forced the tears that threatened to fall back and replied, “You kept me in the dark and made a fool out of me. How the three of you must’ve laughed at my stupidity.” I bit out.

“We never once laughed at you.” He stated as he released my hand, “I will be back with your belongings.” He turned to leave.

“Thank you,” I yelled after him.

He nodded as the door closed behind him.

I returned to my spot on the floor and tried again to sleep, managing to drift off, footsteps woke me up. Stretching, I opened my eyes and Samuel was back with the bag in his hand. I smiled and jumped-up walking over to him.

“Thank you.” I stated as he handed me the bag.

“I don’t mind, unfortunately the pastor wants tot see me so I can’t stay.”

“It’s okay. I want to get changed, anyway.”

“I’ll come see you when I can.” He said before leaving.

After the door closed, I stripped out of the slip and grabbed my bra and panties from the bag, putting them on, before putting my pants and shoes on and pulling my black t-shirt over my head. I took my jewelry out of the bag and put it all back on. Feeling more like myself, I sighed and leaned against the wall with a smug expression on my face.

“Better?” Abigail asked with a laugh. I smiled and nodded. “Much… I am not a dress person.”

“I can see that. You are going to give the pastor a heart attack.”

“Good, I hope he croaks.” I snapped as she chucked.

As if on cue, the Pastor and Samuel entered the room, and the Pastor took one look at me and his mouth dropped.

“What are you wearing, Harlot?”

Samuel smirked as he looked at me.

“Clothes asshole.”

“She is wearing pants.” He turned to say to Lazarus, dumbfounded.

“Indeed, she is.” Lazarus chuckled as I stood and walked to the bars.

“It’s indecent.” He frowned, adverting his gaze.

“What’s indecent is your way of thinking and all this witch trial bullshit. History is going to hate you.” I snapped.

“And how would you know, harlot?”

“Believe me I know.”

“The gallows will be up at the end of the day. We will execute you two tomorrow, so make your peace with God.”

“I will pass.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve already sentenced me as witch. What is God going to do about it?”

“Why are you so confrontational?”

“Why can’t I be? What you are doing is murder and, unjustified, just a bunch of silly people with no evidence accusing others of things they didn’t do, you don’t even give a fair trial.”

“You got a trial.”

“No, I got a sentencing. There is a difference, you brought no credible witnesses. You didn’t even give us a lawyer and there is no solid proof of what you have accused us of. Not to mention not even letting us say our side of things.”

“Lawyers?” his face was turning red with anger as he walked closer to the cell.

“Judging by your temperament, clothes and your red hair, you must be in league with Satan.”

I happened to glance at Lazarus and in a deadly tone whispered, “you are in league with Satan, and he is closer than you think. You think I am in the wrong, you will never be forgiven, you preach and tell others what to do, yet you make deals with darkness.”

Samuel frowned as I glared at them and the hypocrisy of it all.

Pastor Gideon didn’t say another word, just turned and left with Samuel behind him.

“Good riddance.”

“Did you need to bait him like that?” Abigail asked with a chuckle.

“Yes, I did.”