The Spirituality

By, Leah Weiser

Strawberries, moose, and swans

Porcupines, wolves, and turkeys too

In New England they start to decline

Rushing in their place, a tame country

Indigenous peoples replaced by Englishmen

The red duck, black duck, wood duck

Unrestricted hunting, unrestricted wood

All such important thing

Land no longer free and wild

I wish to know an entire heaven and an entire earth

Though the truth is unfortunate

You no longer see the spirituality

October

By, Presley Spraker

It's October again,

But not the same October last year,

There’s something different,

Maybe it's the chill in the air

Or the colorful leaves on the street,

Or the fact that this year is almost near its ending.

It’s frightening to think

That I haven’t quite lived this year

To its fullest extent.

The sun sets earlier now,

As if even the daylight knows 

Time is running out.

I wish I could've hugged

Them all tighter 

Knowing they wouldn't be in this season of my life.

I wonder how many moments they laughed 

I was unaware it would be my last time hearing it.

The past is like a haunted house,

Memories linger like ghosts,

Feelings hide like monsters under the bed,

Darkness fills every corner. 

And the older you get,

The scarier people are.

And you feel more alone than ever.

But October is just one month,

And a bad day is just 24 hours.

October is strange,

Everything is dying, but it's all so beautiful.

But that’s how life really is,

Everyday something in you dies,

but you're too distracted by the beauties of life to notice.

Just enjoy October, it’s not here for long.

Salem

By, Arya Yarman

Prologue

Your last words won’t stop repeating.

Over and over, like I’m still waiting for my turn to speak.
Why won’t they go away?

Your voice, soft, shaking. That slight tremor you tried to hide, acting cocky like you always did… even though you knew you only had twenty seconds left to live. And I’m the only one who knows the truth. Your last moments. Our last conversation. Now it’s gone. And it’s my fault. Some things time will never erase. What should I do?

She found out about the closet. It’s all my fault. I told them it was in my room, and she made me hide it.  Why would I do that to my own family?

Why? Why? WHY?

That’s what Mother said to do. And then I had to stand there, forced to watch… as my fifteen-year-old cousin was stoned in front of all of Salem. Why did Mother ever come to Salem?  Why didn’t we stay in England? Why did I laugh with them? Why did I stand there and laugh as the youngest “witch” in the town was murdered?

Because I confessed.

Because I chose the punishment.

She had to die.

If she lived, she would have told.

She was always a tattletale.

Two Weeks Earlier

“LILY! I’m done playing, you're too good at this!” I shout. “Ugh, fine. You’re so boring, Mable,” Lily groans as she crawls out of Mother’s closet.

She isn’t supposed to be in there.

That’s where Mother keeps her witchcraft supplies.

I’m not even supposed to know about it.

But we were playing hide-and-seek, and I hid there first. Now Lily knows too and if Mother finds out…

Lily will never be allowed to visit again.

Or worse.

“Lily,” I whisper, panic rising in my chest, “I told you we can’t hide in there anymore. Mother got upset last time. That’s where we keep… family keepsakes.”

It’s a lie.

We don’t talk about Grandma. She was caught practicing witchcraft. Burned for it. Now Mother says she must “continue her legacy.” I don’t know what that means.

I don’t want to.

“Mable, Mable, Mable,” Lily says, rolling her eyes. “Grandma was burned at the stake. What kind of keepsakes could possibly be in there?” “Oh my Lord—Lily! We forgot about the service!” I shout, already scrambling to put on my moccasins. They were made by the natives. They keep my feet warm through the winter. Lily pulls on her stiff English shoes. Aunt Margaret hates anything the natives make. She calls it “imposing,” though I don’t really know what that means.

I just know their ways keep us warm.

Keep us alive.

“Lily, hurry!” I call from the other room, my heart still racing. If anyone else had found her in that closet… we’d both be dead. “Ugh! I’m coming, Mable! Just go, I'll catch up!” she yells back. She’s always late. That's when I remember.

The closet.

I was supposed to pack it up today. The inspectors are coming. My stomach drops. I run back inside, hands shaking, and start shoving everything into my room—jars, bundles, charms… and the bloodstained spellbook. The one I was forbidden to touch.

One Week Ago — The Trial

We sat in the courtroom. My right hand rests on the Bible. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it. Aunt Margaret is crying quietly Uncle John grips her shoulder, barely holding himself together.

Lily is dragged in a chain around her neck. Shackled to the floor.

Her mouth tied shut.

“Mable Nightshade,” the judge calls. “You are a witness to the crimes of Lillith.” My heart stutters. “Yes, sir,” I whisper.

“Explain your perspective.” His voice is blunt and cold.

I swallow hard.

“Sir… we were playing hide-and-seek. Lily came into my room, found me… and began chanting.” My voice trembles. “I was so afraid, I started praying. She said if I didn’t help her hide her supplies, she would send me to hell.” The tears come but not from fear.

From guilt.

“Thank you, Mable. You may step down.” Lillith Nightshade. My cousin. My first friend. Now standing trial for my sins. Would she expose us? She always told the truth.

“WAIT!” someone shouts.

It’s Mother. “This devil-worshiper doesn’t deserve to speak! Stone her on April 10th! Six days from now one stone for every hour she tortured my daughter!” The courtroom erupts. Some protest. Most cheer. Aunt Margaret sobs Uncle John holds her tighter, his face breaking. I look at Mother. She looks… proud. That night, she tells me I did the right thing, and I believe her.

April 10th — The Execution

The bells began before sunrise.

Slow. Heavy. Final.

Each toll felt like it landed inside my chest. Mother was already awake when I came downstairs, dressed in black, her hands folded neatly in front of her—like she was going to church instead of an execution. “Come,” she said softly. “We mustn’t be late.”

Mustn’t be late.

Like this was something to look forward to. The town gathered like it always did, tight groups, whispering, judging. The air smelled like dirt and sweat and something metallic I couldn’t place. Fear, maybe.

Or guilt.

They dragged Lily out again, chains scraping against the ground. Her feet were bare now, bruised and bleeding from the road. Her mouth wasn’t tied anymore. I wish it had been. Because when her eyes found mine…she smiled. Not kindly. Not cruelly. Knowingly. “Mable,” she called, her voice hoarse but steady. I froze. Mother’s hand tightened around my wrist. “Do not respond,” she whispered sharply. But I couldn’t look away. “You lied,” Lily said, loud enough for the crowd to quiet. “And you know what lies do. ”My throat closed. The priest raised his hand. “Silence her.”

But it was too late.

“They don’t just disappear,” Lily continued, her voice rising. “They grow. They rot inside you until there’s nothing left but” A stone hit her shoulder. Thrown by mother. The sound- I will never forget that sound. Another followed. Then another. The crowd surged forward, each person throwing their own guilt at her. I didn’t move, I didn’t scream. I didn’t stop them. I just stood there— and watched. Until she fell, until she stopped moving, until the bells began again.

That Night

I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not how she looked at the end. But how she smiled at me. Like she knew something I didn’t. The house was too quiet. Even Mother had gone to bed early, like something had finally been set right. But nothing felt right. Something felt- wrong. A creak echoed through the hallway. I sat up. Another creak. Closer this time. The closet. My breath caught. No. I packed it. I hid everything. No one would find it. No one could— Creak. The door slowly opened. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The darkness inside looked deeper than it should be, like it went too far back. “Mable.” I stopped breathing. That voice- “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…” “Mable,” it said again, softer. “You forgot something.” The air turned cold. My feet moved before I could stop them, pulling me toward the closet. “I didn’t forget,” I said, shaking. “I hid everything. I did what I was supposed to do.”

 “Did you?”

 The voice wasn’t just in the closet anymore. It was behind me. I turned slowly. And there she was. Lily. Not broken, not bleeding., just… standing there. Her head tilted slightly, that same knowing smile on her face. “You picked the punishment,” she said. Tears filled my eyes. “I didn’t have a choice!” I screamed.“There’s always a choice, Mable.” Her voice was gentle. That made it worse. “I was scared,” I whispered. “You would’ve told” I began to sob. “I would’ve told the truth.” The word truth echoed in my head. Behind her, the closet door opened wider. Inside, I could see them.

the jars.

the bones.

the book.

But they weren’t still, they moved. Like they were breathing. “She taught you well,” Lily said, glancing at the closet. “Didn’t she?”

My stomach dropped.

“Mother…” I whispered. Lily nodded. “She didn’t just continue Grandma’s legacy.” The candle flickered and went out. Darkness filled the room. And in that darkness something moved. Not Lily.

Something else, something deeper.

Older.

Hungry.

“You made them think I was the witch,” Lily whispered. A cold hand brushed mine.

“But you’re the one who opened the door.” 

Something moved in the dark.

Not like a person moving.

Not like anything alive.

It dragged.

Slow.

Wet.

Wrong.

My breath came in short, broken pieces. “Lily…” I whispered, reaching for her even though every part of me screamed not to. “Please make it stop.” Her expression didn’t change. “I can’t.” The thing moved again. Closer; the air pressed against my chest I couldn’t breathe. The smell filled the room, iron, rot, and burning hair.

Grandma.

The word flooded into my mind, no, not Grandma. A scraping sound echoed as it pulled itself forward. I couldn’t fully see it, every time I tried, my mind blurred it out. But I saw enough.Too many shapes, too many limbs, not all human. I stumbled back, hitting my bed. “Mother said it was just spells, just protection!” I cried. 

“And you believed her.”

 “I had to!” I gasped. “She’s my mother!”

“And I was your family too.”

That hit harder than anything else. Behind her, the thing made a sound, not a growl. Not a scream. Something in between. Like many voices speaking at once. I heard my name. “Mable…” 

I covered my ears.

 “Stop”. 

“Mable…” It sounded like Mother.

 “Mable…” Then Grandma. 

“Mable…” Then; me.

I froze.

“You hear it now,” Lily said quietly. The floor creaked. Heavy. It was out. I couldn’t see the closet anymore. Only darkness. Only movement. Something brushed my ankle. I gasped, jerking away, but it followed me, cold and crawling.

“No. 

no, no, no.”

“You opened it,” Lily said again.  “I didn’t mean to!” I sobbed. “I was trying to fix it, I was trying to protect us!” 

“By killing me?”

Everything went still. Even the thing stopped.

And then

I woke up.

The Next Morning

My chest heaved.

 Air, real air.

No rot, no voices.

Just morning.

Just home.

Mother stood in the doorway, calm as ever. “Mable dear, breakfast is ready.” I stared at her, unable to speak. “You look pale,” she said. “Did you sleep poorly?” “It was just a dream,” I whispered. Mother smiled. “Of course it was.” Something about the way she said it too quickly; too sure. “I’ll be down in a moment,” I said. She watched me for a second longer, then left. I listened to her footsteps fade. Only then did I turn, the closet was closed.

Exactly how I left it.

I let out a shaky breath,

See?

Just a dream, just guilt, just…

Creak.

I froze. That didn’t come from the closet, it came from the floor, right next to my bed. “No…” I whispered. Slowly I looked down. The floorboards had shifted, just enough to leave a thin, dark gap. It hadn’t been there before. I stared… waiting for it to move. For something to come out. But nothing happened. Just silence. “Mable?” Mother called from downstairs, sharper now. “Do not make me come up there.” I flinched, the moment broke.

The gap was gone.

I blinked. Nothing. Just wood. Flat. Normal. “I’m coming,” I called. My voice barely held together.

Breakfast

The kitchen smelled like bread. Warm. Normal. Too normal. Mother set a plate down. “Sit.” I obeyed. Because I always do. I kept my hands in my lap so she wouldn’t see them shaking. “You’re quiet this morning,” she said. “I’m just tired.” Too fast. She noticed. “You mustn’t dwell on yesterday,” she said. “What’s done is done.” Yesterday. Like it was nothing. “Yes, Mother.” We ate in silence. Or she did. Every bite tasted like ash. I kept my eyes down. Anywhere but

 Movement.

 At the edge of my vision. I froze. Slowly I looked toward the doorway. Empty. I breathed out. You’re imagining things. You’re tired… You’re… Movement again. Near the window. The curtain moved slightly. The air was still . My heart pounded. “Mable.” I jerked. Mother hadn’t spoken. The voice came from behind me. I turned too fast. Nothing. Just the wall. Just the door. Just a shape. Gone. So fast I almost missed it. “Mable.” Mother’s voice again, this time real. “Is something wrong?” I turned back slowly. Forced a smile. “No, Mother.” She stared at me, too long. Then she smiled, “Good.” But it didn’t reach her eyes

Afternoon Service 

“Fear is powerful.

It can make us say things we don’t mean.
It can make us stay silent when we should speak.
It can make us convince ourselves… that we had no choice.

Lily believed that.

I told myself I was protecting my family.
I told myself I was doing what I had to do.

But the truth remained.

An innocent life was lost.

Not just because of hatred
but because of fear.
Because of silence.
Because of a choice.

Scripture reminds us that knowing what is right… 

and failing to do it… matters.

We may never stand in a courtroom like we did last week.
But we face smaller moments every day.

That's what I took from service.

I kept seeing her. 

Fade in and out of view 

She disappeared faster than she appeared. 

Always with that same knowing smile.