In order to make this creative piece work, the sequence in which some events and scenes occurred had to be switched around a bit. Also, the prose format seemed to flow better rather than a script, you can work with the character’s emotions and thoughts a bit more with prose versus a play script. Envy was one of the seven deadly sins, one should not be envious. Back in 1692, you also had to be careful of what you said, lest you be accused of witchcraft. This would continue on to the 1950’s, when you had to watch what you said in order to not be accused of being Communist, The Crucible is an allegory for the Red Scare, to show people how silly it all was, it was Arthur Miller’s goal, in hopes something like such wouldn’t happen again.
Also, this is to show, that it’s human nature, to save yourself, as my character Alice Smith did, accusing Reverend John Hale, even if she considered Hale—however her master—a friend, and perhaps, a little more. Normally a reverend would be exempt from being accused of witchcraft, being too close to God, as Abigail William’s world fell apart when she tried to accuse the wife of a reverend. Perhaps, since Hale became doubtful, the judges would be more apt to believe Alice. However, the idea whether Hale was found innocent or guilty is left open…No one was safe; everyone was out to save their own skin, except maybe a select few, like Hale, Proctor, Miller, and anyone who denied being guilty… The Devil wears a white, silk bonnet
“I saw Abigail Williams with the Devil,”
Reverend Hale sat at his desk, elbows flat against the desktop, face buried into his hands, as he mumbled this into his palms. “I cannot understand why someone doesn’t just say that,” “No, no, Abigail Williams is the Devil,” Alice Smith said, her thin lips forming a small smile. Alice was the young servant girl of Reverend John Hale; she came with him from Beverly. She had shoulder length, thin, straw colored hair, pale but rough skin from a life of work, a short, frail frame for being of nineteen years, and pale, almost glassy, blue eyes.
“This is hardly the time for tom foolery, child,” Hale scolded her, his palms moving up to his forehead, as he began rubbing it up and down. He appeared to be having a headache.
“I’m not foolin’ sir! I speak the truth,”
Hale sighed. “Nonetheless, Abigail confessed to having dealings with the Devil, did she not?”
“You know just as well as I that Abby is a liar!”
“Indeed, but alas, the whole town believes her, it’s as if she’s King William’s wife herself. If you speak out against the court, may God save your soul…” Hale trailed off, deep in thought.
“Anything has to be better than life in this God forsaken town, heaven or hell alike,”
“Child, I bid you, do not speak like such,” Alice shook her head, some strands of pale hair falling out of her bonnet. “I do not understand you Mister Hale, why don’t we quit this place, lest one of the girls accuse us of witchcraft before so…”
“I’ll willingly burn at stake before I sign my name onto yet another death warrant, I do not want to be one of the causes for anyone else’s murder, every life is a blessing sent from the Lord above,” Hale said, his face back in his palms, his brown hair was not back in a ponytail, and hung loosely around his hands.
“Sir,” Alice sighed, Hale always became preachy when upset and he failed to take heed of her previous statement. “Why don’t you quit the court then?”
Hale lifted himself from his desk chair and turned to face the young woman that stood behind him. He excitedly placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“You are brilliant, Alice, just brilliant,” He stepped away from her and rushed to another room to prepare himself.
Alice felt her cheeks grow warm and she knew she was blanching. She didn’t quite understand why it was so brilliant, it was common sense, and surely he could have come up with that himself.
Also, he called her by her first name? Did she hear him wrong? Calling someone by their first name gives the idea that there’s some sort of
intimacy between you, but that’s not true, is it? Alice shook her head. Reverend John Hale was a kind, intelligent, handsome man, and he deserved better. He would never settle for a poorly educated, indentured servant girl like her. .
Alice sat down in a chair in the court room where the rest of the town, jury, sat. Her hands lay folded in her lap as she watched events of the court unfold; in awe that such a thing could happen.
Hale stood up with the rest of the higher ups, watching the scene, a look of disgust on his face. The girls were pretending again, to accuse another girl, one that used to be part of them, Mary Warren. Mary had decided she didn’t want to lie anymore, and stood next to John Proctor, who had a hand on her shoulder, eyes wide, and looking rather scared. Abigail stared up at the ceiling, pointing at a small, yellow bird that no one else could see. She appeared to be having a conversation with it, pretending the bird was Mary, that Mary had put her spirit in it and was saying nasty things, like she wanted to hurt Abby and was envious of her. This made no sense though; Mary was right next to Mister Proctor, talking, and denying everything said, without much success. When Abby and the girls began mimicking everything Mary said Alice couldn’t take it anymore. She sprang up from her seat, it falling to the ground with a clatter, as she ran up to Abby and pushed her to the ground. “Stop pretending! This is ridiculous! Do you like leading people to their deaths Abby?
Do you enjoy being a murderer? I swear, if such a thing could be true, you are the Devil himself in the form of a girl!” Alice exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. “Are you claiming to have seen Abigail Williams with the Devil?” Judge Danforth asked, an eyebrow raised. “No! Of course not! And I scarcely believe anyone in this godforsaken town was with the Devil! I just don’t want anyone else losing their lives!” Alice cried, frustrated. “The girl must be conspiring with Proctor! They came to bring down the court!” Reverend Parris cried hysterically. “Parris, if you—“ Danforth began, as Proctor opened his mouth to speak, but Abby beat him to it. She still sat on the ground, where she fell, looking rather vulnerable. She turned toward Alice, her eyes widened.
“My skin! It burns! It feels as if a scalding fire is burning away at my flesh!” She cried, screaming in agony. “Alice, Alice! Why are you envious? You are just as pretty as I, more or less…” she burst into tears, fake of course, while writhing in pain as well. The girls followed Abby’s example, screaming in pain and about Alice’s envy. Alice’s eyes widened, as she knew she was being accused of witchcraft, she was going to die if she didn’t think of something quick. Her blue eyes met Hale’s brown ones. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I confess I confess! I was forced into it—I saw Reverend Hale with the Devil!” Hale’s face fell. “Goody Smith…Alice…how could you?”