**_May 7th 1692

_**Dear Diary,

Its only one week from my birthday and I am most excited for it. I will be turning 16 and mother says that will mark the day I become a true woman in our family. Margery believes that the new boy in town, Marcus Proctor, may court me. He’s come a long way to Haverhill.

**_May 9th 1692

_**Dear Diary,

I’m sorry it’s been a few days, everything has just been going so fast. But I have good news, Margery was right. Marcus began courting me yesterday, I can’t spend a lot of time with him right now though. Mother has been really busy preparing for the celebration, sometimes I can’t tell if she’s more excited for my birthday or the Silver Moon. She told me we have to leave tonight so we can make it to the celebration on time.

**_May 11th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

We’re still a three days walk from the celebration. I don’t understand why we have to go so far, but mother just keeps telling me that we must “meet the kindred stone for the rite of heir to be sown”. At least I get to spend some time with mother.

**_May 12th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

Today was really scary, our camp was attacked by a bear. Mother told me to hide, but I didn’t want to leave her. I tried to run and help but as I started to I found my self stuck, like my feet had become rooted to the ground. I heard the roaring then some muttering from mother, but I could’nt make out the words. There was a flash of cerulean light then a thud, it was that moment that my feet could work again and I barreled toward her. When I got there the bear laid dead on the forest floor and my mother stood untouched. She hastily tied her hair back up and put her gloves on. Not before I caught a glimpse of her fingers though. They were a deep blue as if dunked in some type of substance. I’ll keep this updated if I notice anything else.

**_May 13th 1692_**

Dear Diary,

Mother says we’re less than a day away, she seems anxious. I keep having these weird dreams about shining wagons without horses and people hiding with cloth across their faces. I don’t know what any of it means, but I’m getting worried.

**_May 14th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

Tonight’s the night, I’m finally 16 and I can’t wait for the celebration. I had some strange dreams again but this time they were about flaming angles falling from the sky and unimaginable amounts of people gathered under the brightest candles I’ve ever seen. Mother has been asking if my dreams have been weird lately but I don’t want to worry her, besides tonight is meant to be fun.

**_May 20th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

I don’t know what’s happening, but I keep having these vivid dreams. Some of them are about people I know, but that’s not the weirdest part, they keep happening in real life. I can’t tell what’s a dream and what isn’t anymore. Mother told me not to worry, that this happened to her when she was my age and that I should keep it to myself unless sought out by someone. Apparently all the women in our family line have this happen to them.

**_May 29th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

It’s becoming harder to keep this a secret; more and more of my visions are coming true. I had one last night about Marcus, in my dream his fishing boat capsized dragging him to the bottom of Great Pond. I know mother told me not to share my visions, but I have to warn him.

**_June 6th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

I should have listened to mother. I thought I was doing the right thing, but Marcus started screaming that I was a witch. I tried to get back to mother, but by the time I arrived home was already a mob taking her away. We locked eyes and she yelled for me to run. I listened that time, I saw as they hoisted her upon the pire. I tried to look away but the light from the flames licking up her skin was too bright.

**_July 15th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

I haven’t stopped running, nowhere is safe. Every town I cross through I’m struck with a vision of the execution of one of their own all because one man cried witch. What’s even more worrisome is I fear I’ve foreseen my own death.

**_July 29th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

As I was passing near Salem I came across a young girl, Dorothy Good, no more than 6 years of age. She described how her father was one of her accusers. This poor girl lost her mother today, I’ll do my best to take her under my wing.

**_August 8th 1962_**

Dear Diary,

Dorothy is doing well. I’ve been teaching her all I know, which isn’t a lot. I can feel my end approaching faster each day, which I is why I need Dorothy to understand the dangers that plague men before it’s too late.

**_August 13th 1962_**

Dear Diary

Dorothy is showing so much potential, even at the age of 6 her abilities are beginning to show. While my skills lie in seeing what is to come, her’s exist within the art of illusion. She’s somehow managed to keep up hidden. As long as she continues to practice and build her patience, I see a long life for her.

**_September 1st 1962_**

Dear Diary,

The day is approaching rapidly and I fear I may not be able to ensure Dorothy’s safety once I’m gone. I will be spending each day writing all of the spells and lessons I’ve learned so that she may benefit as time goes on. I’m doing my best to prepare her.

**_September 21st 1962_**

Dear Diary,

This will be my last entry for tomorrow I will be killed. I will be struck down whilst freeing three of the eleven sentenced to death for whichcraft: Lydia (Standish) Sampson, Sarah (Waite) Stone, and Hannah (Bridges) Barton.

Dear Dorothy,

If you read this, I know it seems like only three isn’t worth my life, but their decendents will go on to influence the course of this country. Go on and be exceptional.