Heavy boots rattled the bus steps as Jasmine hurriedly stepped out. A liberating, almost eerie cool breeze passed throughout the trees. Salem. It had been a shock to all of the students. The excursion had been so sudden. They were all willing to have fun. Her solemn sapphire eyes traced across the landscape. She was drawn towards an unusually fertile area: a small grove filled with beautiful plants. Jasmine unconsciously wandered to the grove. She placed small buds throughout her messy brown hair. The landscape suddenly changed. Children's squeals filled the air, greys and whites of simple tunics covered the land, heretics materialized in the gallows behind the church. Ashes piled in the burning paddock. She uncomfortably rubbed her arms. She was clad in white. Startled, she spun around, unsure if shed heard her name.

            "Jasper! Jas, you okay?" Mark enquired

            "Ye...yeah I'm fine," Jasmine spun around again. Her previous visions had disappeared, leaving the partially restored village before her.

            "Tabitha?" An old man approached Jasmine

            "I'm sorry, you must be mistaking me with someone else." She turned on her heels

            "You're Jasmine Persephone aren't you?"

            "Yes, but you called me Tabitha before." She cautiously turned back around.

            "That was your name when you lived here," continued the old man

            "I...I was alive in the Burning Times?" Jasmine stuttered.

            "This was yours," The old man extended his withered arm. He revealed an intricate silver pendant. Jasmine tickled the design: a young maiden superimposed onto a crescent moon. Unconsciously, she flipped the pendant over, pressing against a minute depression in the side, revealing a locket compartment. Inside laid a single key.

            Tonight it ends. Shamus insists on being burnt with me. The courts have already declared him guilty of being an accomplice. Unlike the others, I have been fairly accused of Witchcraft, yet their insensitivity and ignorance have prevented me from worshipping in a liberating faith. Cousin Abigail has abandoned me, leaving me to be reduced to a horrifying myth that soils the family name. They are afraid to venture into our grove, they fear it is under the influence of the Devil. The waxing moon gives me the strength to face the fire and Shamus will be with me forever and always. Gently rubbing the leather cover of her journal, she listened for the satisfying click of the lock and placed the key in her small silver charm. A single tear escaped her emerald eyes as she carefully laid the locket and journal in a hand crafted chest.

            "You felt it in your heart the second you arrived, now you know." The old man interrupted. "Mark, Shamus; they're one in the same. Tabitha, where do you think your profound interest in the Craft originated?"

Jasmine stared evocatively at her surroundings. A strange calm coursed over her.

            Jasmine and Mark entered the small hall, a recreation of a Burning Times courtroom. Jasmine was greeted by the simple tones of grey and white. I've been here before. Each of the students had been given an identity for the day. Jasmine stood out in the cloud of grey, clothed in a simple white dress with a sash of purple tied defiantly about her hips. Her hair cascaded down her back. Wild girl. She nervously toyed with her sash. Her spindly fingers scratched and knotted the sturdy fabric. Isolated. She sat in a small box, kept away from the rest of the fearful court. Each of the witnesses presented their accounts as Jasmine smoothed the skirt of her dress, deeply thinking about her defence.

                "Calling Goody Williams to the stand." announced the bailiff.

Jasmine peered out at the crowded hall. Dizziness overcame her for a brief moment before she spoke out. She didn't even wait for the Judge's orders. "You prosecute me in fear! You believe the word of one young girl, with no place in society, yet you will not accept mine! This society's ignorance and strict order have prevented it from understanding any of us called before this court. Do you even know why you fear us anymore? We are the healers, the midwives, the philosophers. We are aware of things that you will not open yourself to. Are you willing to forsake this establishment for the unsubstantiated word of a child?" Tears formed in Jasmine's eyes, sapphire irises transforming into translucent crystals of amethyst. Wavering, she uttered simply "Sacrificing the unusual will not save your souls!"

            "Miss Williams, that disgraceful display will not help you any! You have mocked both the sanctity of the Church and the Law! You will be burnt at the first light of the moon tonight." Adam forcefully ordered.

            Infuriated, Mark rushed to his feet. "If you take her, you take me!" Confusion froze him as he stared at Jasmine. Dizzy, he barely heard the announcement of lunch.

            Mark gently grasped Jasmine's hand and led her towards the grove. A train of white and purple flowed behind her as she ran to keep up with him. She sat gracefully and habitually swept the wrinkles from the fair cotton dress. "They''re still purple," he stated simply, gazing at her eyes.

           " I...dont think itll go away." A faint smile escaped her lips.

            "What happened in there? What got to us?"

            "Charged emotion? Whatever they want to believe, it was a good show!" Jasmine laughed lightly. They watched the alluring glow of the full moon through the slight clouds. Jasmine beamed at the power of the day. She finally had a sense of who she was. Life was what she made of it, she had no predestined path or place in society. She just was.