Journal 5

I am watching in awe as my fib turns into a brilliant breakdown of society. Almost 100 people have confessed and hangings have been happening left and right in Salem and surrounding towns. People are not only scared of witches, but that they themselves will be accused of witchcraft. It is beautiful madness indeed. Proctor has been brought in and accused. I cannot foresee a viable future in this town and I have decided to leave. I took Mercy and stole 31 pounds from Reverend Paris’s strongbox and disappeared with her. I feared the consequences if anyone were to find out about our lie. I had always imagined a future beside John, but it no longer seemed possible. He hated me with every ounce of his soul and despised what I had done. It was only through this that I finally began to see our differences. It was astounding to me that one could not appreciate the beautiful effect I had yielded with a few simple lies. However, two question remains. What is left in store in the future? Where can we go? I had grown up in Salem my whole life. For the majority of my life, Salem was the only place I knew. We journey on a road never traveled before. We had taken the life of dozens of innocents with zero regret. However, here we were, fleeing the very place we sought to influence. As for John, he must either confess or be hung. Knowing John to be quite stubborn, either outcome would not be surprising. The thought of death disturbed me. Surely my actions would go punished either in this life or the next.