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Mary Warren

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Mary Warren - Page Text Content

S: Diary of Mary Warren

FC: Mary Warren

1: Mary Warren By: Allie Bijowski

2: Descriptive Entry A descriptive entry uses strong visual and sensory images to create a lasting impression on the reader. The entry vividly portrays a person, place, or thing in such a way that the reader can enter into the writer's experience. | March 14, 1642 There seems to be this rising panic of witchcraft in Salem, and thus, I feel remorse for having gone in the woods with Abby and the other girls. As soon as this malevolent buzz of witchcraft had began to run its course, I rushed to Parris’ house in order to warn Abby and the others and try to convince them to admit to our witchery. There stood Mercy and Abby, and lying motionlessly in bed was the lifeless and seemingly possessed Betty. Betty was nothing short of a poppet lying inertly with limbs flopping however direction you compel them to. I blurted out breathlessly the gravity of our transgression and how the whole town speaks of witchcraft, and I suggested we admit the truth since dancing will only bring about a whipping as a punishment compared to the vile, tragic punishment of a noose holding one above the ground. Betty began to whimper- a small cry that echoed no sound waves, but rather a form of hope. Abigail, perceptibly interested, turned to Betty and prompted her to wake up while staring intently at her face. She then propped Betty upright and heatedly shook trying to wake her from her comatose and benumbed state. She threatened to beat Betty. After a few more of Abby’s words, Betty sprung from the bed overtly terrified of Abby and pressed against the wall and shrieked “I want my mama!” (pg. 13). Abigail cautiously paced the room to reach Betty and to ask what ailed her considering her mother is deceased. Betty yelled that she would fly to her mama and raised her thin arms as though to fly exemplifying a bird’s preparation for takeoff. Betty reached for the window, managing to free one leg out, and frantically, Abby jumped to her and vigorously pulled her away from the window. Abby proceeded to tell her that Parris knows everything about the encounter in the woods. In response, Betty began to shriek and accused Abby of drinking a charm to kill John Proctor’s wife as if trying to vindicate herself from guilt or wrongdoing. Abigail, stupefied with devilish, vengeful abhorrence, wound her arm back and smashed Betty across the face, commanding her to end her accusation, and leaving a streak of throbbing red on her cheek. The weak and trembling Betty instantly began to cry for her mother and fell back onto the bed nearly drowning herself in a flood of tears and sorrow. | March 14, 1642 There seems to be this rising panic of witchcraft in Salem, and thus, I feel remorse for having gone in the woods with Abby and the other girls. As soon as this malevolent buzz of witchcraft had began to run its course, I rushed to Parris’ house in order to warn Abby and the others and try to convince them to admit to our witchery. There stood Mercy and Abby, and lying motionlessly in bed was the lifeless and seemingly possessed Betty. Betty was nothing short of a poppet lying inertly with limbs flopping however direction you compel them to. I blurted out breathlessly the gravity of our transgression and how the whole town speaks of witchcraft, and I suggested we admit the truth since dancing will only bring about a whipping as a punishment compared to the vile, tragic punishment of a noose holding one above the ground. Betty began to whimper- a small cry that echoed no sound waves, but rather a form of hope. Abigail, perceptibly interested, turned to Betty and prompted her to wake up while staring intently at her face. She then propped Betty upright and heatedly shook trying to wake her from her comatose and benumbed state. She threatened to beat Betty. After a few more of Abby’s words, Betty sprung from the bed overtly terrified of Abby and pressed against the wall and shrieked “I want my mama!” (pg. 13). Abigail cautiously paced the room to reach Betty and to ask what ailed her considering her mother is deceased. Betty yelled that she would fly to her mama and raised her thin arms as though to fly exemplifying a bird’s preparation for takeoff. Betty reached for the window, managing to free one leg out, and frantically, Abby jumped to her and vigorously pulled her away from the window. Abby proceeded to tell her that Parris knows everything about the encounter in the woods. In response, Betty began to shriek and accused Abby of drinking a charm to kill John Proctor’s wife as if trying to vindicate herself from guilt or wrongdoing. Abigail, stupefied with devilish, vengeful abhorrence, wound her arm back and smashed Betty across the face, commanding her to end her accusation, and leaving a streak of throbbing red on her cheek. The weak and trembling Betty instantly began to cry for her mother and fell back onto the bed nearly drowning herself in a flood of tears and sorrow.

3: March 14, 1692 There seems to be this rising panic of witchcraft in Salem, and thus, I feel remorse for having gone in the woods with Abby and the other girls. As soon as this malevolent buzz of witchcraft had began to run its course, I rushed to Parris’s house in order to warn Abby and the others and try to convince them to admit to our witchery. There stood Mercy and Abby, and lying motionlessly in bed was the lifeless and seemingly possessed Betty. Betty was nothing short of a poppet lying inertly with limbs flopping however direction you compel them to. I blurted out breathlessly the gravity of our transgression and how the whole town speaks of witchcraft, and I suggested we admit the truth since dancing will only bring about a whipping as a punishment compared to the vile, tragic punishment of a noose holding one above the ground. Betty began to whimper- a small cry that echoed no sound waves, but rather a form of hope. Abigail, perceptibly interested, turned to Betty and prompted her to wake up while staring intently at her face. She then propped Betty upright and heatedly shook trying to wake her from her comatose and benumbed state. She threatened to beat Betty. After a few more of Abby’s words, Betty sprung from the bed overtly terrified of Abby and pressed against the wall and shrieked “I want my mama!” (pg. 13). Abigail cautiously paced the room to reach Betty and to ask what ailed her considering her mother is deceased. Betty yelled that she would fly to her mama and raised her thin arms as though to fly exemplifying a bird’s preparation for takeoff. Betty reached for the window, managing to free one leg out, and frantically, Abby jumped to her and vigorously pulled her away from the window. Abby proceeded to tell her that Parris knows everything about the encounter in the woods. In response, Betty began to shriek and accused Abby of drinking a charm to kill John Proctor’s wife as if trying to vindicate herself from guilt or wrongdoing. Abigail, stupefied with devilish, vengeful abhorrence, wound her arm back and smashed Betty across the face, commanding her to end her accusation, and leaving a streak of throbbing red on her cheek. The weak and trembling Betty instantly began to cry for her mother and fell back onto the bed nearly drowning herself in a flood of tears and sorrow.

4: Fear had suddenly strained the room with tension as thick as the morning fog, spreading like a vicious plague and nearly halting anyone’s heart beat if they dared inhale. Abby broke through the tension with a pickaxe she drew from the depths of her vocal chords and shattered the silence. She threatened to kill us if we spoke a word about what happened that night in the forest. After her icy words sent chills through my veins, I watched her sit up Betty the poppet and tell her to stop the nonsense, but Betty simply collapsed and fell back down on her bed. This is an inauspicious omen.

6: Persuasive Entry: Persuasive writing intends to convince the reader of a stated opinion or belief. It can include the writer's wishes or desires and how he/she might obtain these wishes.

7: March 15, 1692 Lately I have been feeling such fretfulness because of the growing accusations in Salem. What if I am convicted of being a witch? I was there with Abby, Betty, Tituba and the others when they were performing the sinister deed of witchcraft in the woods. We may all be condemned to some vile punishment if others find out, so it is better to confess before things burst into corrupt chaos! I have already expressed to Abby my opinion about revealing the truth and explained that witchery’s a hanging error, but she is reluctant to listen to my suggestion. Thus, I plan to confer with Abby tomorrow in a sincere matter in order to convince her and the other girls to confess to witchery. This is how I plan to persuade her if I muster up enough confidence to do so: “Abby, you must listen to me. The accusations of witchcraft are beginning to rise and have potential to boil over just like a witch’s smoldering cauldron may. You do understand that you and the other girls performed a dreadful and ill-omened action in the heathen forest the other night, and I am sure you recall that I was there standing and watching this horrifying ritual. I ask that you and the other girls confess to this abominable deed because witchery is a sin that may condemn us all to death! Denying it will only exacerbate the situation, and there are already rumors buzzing about Betty being bewitched. The truth is the only way to redeem yourself from this base transgression. I also wish not to be involved in this scandal, and if fingers start pointing, I am sure that one of those fingers will point at me because of my involvement and because we are acquainted with one another. I only looked, Abby, and thus, it would not be just for me to be indicted for witchery if I never done none of it. You drank blood, Abby! You were the one to drink a charm to kill Elizabeth Proctor! The court will damn you to hell for it if they find out you denied it! And God will damn your soul and toss it into the Black Man’s gaping pit of impending doom! Save yourself! And save the others! Save me, Abby! I refuse to be charged!” The very thought of me revealing all these thoughts shakes me. Abby is full of spite and vengeance and may somehow turn on me. But I cannot suffer any longer from this worry! I will work up the courage to admit this to Abby maybe.

8: Reflective Entry: A reflective entry describes the meaning of a significant event including its importance, application in the future, and if it brought about any new changes or perspective.

9: March 18 1692 Tonight as I came back home from my court duties, Mr. Proctor immediately grabbed me by my cloak and inquired of my whereabouts. I begged him to stop harassing me for I felt sick, and I handed Goody Proctor a poppet I had sewn in the court. I began to gossip with Mr. and Mrs. Proctor about Goody Osborn being hung and Sarah Good’s pregnancy, and I mentioned I would be going back to court daily as I am an official of the court. Clearly, Mr. Proctor had some aversion to me going and tried to whip me, but before the crack of it, I exclaimed and pointed at Elizabeth, “I saved her life today!” Her countenance softened as she soaked in the fact that she was indeed accused. I knew Abigail had accused her, but I was bound by law not to tell. I told the members of the court that I never see no sign of her ever sending her spirit out. Because I live with her, they dismissed the recrimination. Proctor then made me go to bed to which I firmly responded that I am not to be ordered around anymore. I feel being an official of the court has made me gain strength and power. I had vouched for Elizabeth, and the court had dismissed the allegation because of me. I had stood up to Mr. Proctor and told him that I am not to be ordered around, and he listened to me. I like all this newly found capability for it compensates for all the times I have been the weak, subservient little Mary Warren. About an hour later, Elizabeth told me to come. I saw Reverend Hale, Cheever, Giles, and Herrick all gathered and speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Proctor. Proctor began to shout and asked me if the poppet belongs to me. I quailed, and my voice shrunk as I quietly replied that I made it and gave it to Goody Proctor. Hale points out the needle stuck in it which I left there with no harm intended. Supposedly Abigail had accused Elizabeth of possessing a poppet with a needle stuck in it with intention to harm her. Hale mentioned that Abigail was found with a needle stuck into her belly. What madness! Herrick insisted that he must arrest Elizabeth, and although Proctor tried to stop him, he did not possess enough power to do so. In complete fear, I squeaked that it was likely Elizabeth will return home. He told me that I will have to go to court and charge murder on Abby!

10: I beseeched him not to make me do such a thing, for Abby is vengeful and full of spite and would harm me without hesitation! I tried to persuade him out of it by saying that Abby will charge lechery on him, but he was indifferent to my opinion. Mr. Proctor then threatened that he would bring my guts into my mouth, but his wife would not die. Goodness, what have I done? Why do I always have to be in the middle of the chaos? I should never have gone to court, therefore, Abby would have never seen my poppet and conjured such an evil contrivance to kill Goody Proctor! If had never been friends with Abby, this would not have happened! If I never danced with Abby and the others, she would not have had a reason to turn against me! Power? What a fool I am to think I have any ounce of strength! I am caught between my morals and my best interest, and frankly I do not possess the ability to do what is right because ultimately, I will be avenged. I am too powerless to convince Mr. Proctor that I cannot rival Abigail for he has all the power to incapacitate me. There is no hope for me; I am doomed.

12: Persuasive Entry: Persuasive writing intends to convince the reader of a stated opinion or belief. It can include the writer's wishes or desires and how he/she might obtain these wishes.

13: March 18, 1692 I wish I had the audacity to persuade Mr. Proctor to not compel me to speak against Abigail. The resentment and fear I possess need to be manifested some way before I go insane, thus I intend to at least practice what I want to say. Here is what I visualize speaking: “Mr. Proctor, you know very well that I mean no harm and that I understand your passionate, interminable love for Mrs. Proctor. I am sure that it deeply ails you to see her held in such a demeaning and dangerous stature, and be assured that it hurts me too! But I simply cannot change sides and speak out against Abby. As you may already see, she has no issue with inflicting harm on anyone because she is simply wicked. If I am on good terms with her, there is only a slight chance that she may try to harm me and convince the other girls to harm me as well. But if she dislikes me, she may try to accuse me of witchcraft and kill me! Consider this, Mr. Proctor: Abby had initially nothing to hold against Mrs. Proctor except the fact that she is your wife, and for this reason, she sought to kill her! Mrs. Proctor had done no wrong! Imagine what Abby may try to do to me! Confessing to Danforth that they and I are a fraud is guaranteed to ignite a fire of hatred that will ultimately cause Abby to seek to avenge me. Not only will I be affected by this, but you are guaranteed to be affected by her abominable ways, too! Consider the fact that she will charge lechery on you! She will rip your good name from you and stamp on it until it becomes one with the dirt on the ground! Abby has intentions that can cause one to simply sell his or soul to the devil because her inflictions are already hell! I pray you do not make me go through with this risky behavior for your sake and mine! I want no harm done to me. I beg of you! I cannot do it! I CANNOT!”

14: Narrative: A narrative entry details a short story of a significant event including setting, characters, time sequence, brief plot, and dialogue.

15: March 21, 1692 It was a nerve-wracking, uneasy day for me. I had to go to the Meetinghouse, and John had me submit a deposition that would prove Abby, the girls’, and my accusations a fraud thus proving Elizabeth’s accusation a deception. I began to confess to Danforth and said I saw no spirits and that all the accusations were pretense. Danforth asked if John had forced me to write this deposition, and I inaudibly responded “no, sir.” He then proceeded to call me a liar to which I defensively replied “I am with God. I cannot lie no more.” (p. 50) Susanna, Abby, Betty, and Mercy entered and Danforth explained to them my claim. Abby said this was not the truth. Danforth asked me if this was all pretense, then why did I faint when those accused had confronted me. I had to explain that I fainted because I only thought to see spirits. Danforth then turned to Abby, asking if it was possible the spirits she saw were only an illusion as well. This is when the girls begin to shiver and shake, claiming to freeze and saying that I was sending a shadow upon them. John had stumbled upon an impasse at this point realizing that the only way to get Danforth to believe the accusations were a fraud was to confess his relationship with Abigail and explain her desire for vengeance. Elizabeth then entered and unfortunately secured John’s name, but Hale pointed at Abby and said that she always struck him as false. This marks the beginning of the chaotic insanity that Abigail conjures in order to get me to take her side. "It's on the beam! Behind the rafter!" (p. 50) exclaimed Mercy, pointing to the ceiling. Danforth quickly darted his eyes up to see what all the whimpering, open-mouthed girls were gawking at. “Why do you come, yellow bird?” (p. 50) asked the deceiving Abigail. “Where’s a bird? I see no bird” (p. 50) questioned Proctor. It seems as if Abigail was holding a genuine conversation with the “bird”, as though trying to appease it so it would not attack her.

16: “My face? But God made my face; you cannot want to tear my face. Envy is a deadly, sin Mary,” (p. 51) said Abigail, that lying, sinister, wretched girl. This is absurd! She is trying to make it appear as if I am performing witchcraft! It is clearly feigned! I jumped towards her, horrified, and pleaded. “Abby, I’m here!” (p. 51) I exclaimed, shaking from the terror. Abigail prolonged her phony act. “Oh, Mary, this is a black art to change your shape. No, I cannot, I cannot stop my mouth; it’s God’s work I do,” (p. 51) said Abigail, unperturbed and nonchalant. “They’re pretending, Mr. Danforth!” (p. 51) shouted Proctor. Abigail took a step backwards, as though the “bird” will swoop down. “Oh, please, Mary! Don’t come down!” (p. 51) she screamed. “Her claws, she’s stretching her claws!” (p. 51) yelled Susanna Walcott. I frantically looked at Danforth. “I’m not hurting her!” (p. 51) I said to him. He glared at me with panic-stricken eyes. “Why does she see this vision?” (p. 51) he questioned. “She sees nothin’!” (p. 51) I exclaimed! Staring at me as though hypnotized, and mimicking my exact tone, Abigail shouted, “She sees nothin’!” I pleaded for her to stop. “Abby, you mustn’t!” (p. 51) “Abby, you mustn’t!” (p. 51 mimicked Abigail and all the girls. “I’m here, I’m here!” (p. 51) “I’m here, I’m here!” (p. 51) they copied. “Mary Warren! Draw back your spirit out of them!” (p. 51) demanded Danforth. “Mr. Danforth!” (p. 51) I shouted, appalled at his accusation. “Mr. Danforth!” (p. 51) they mimicked. “Have you compacted with the devil? Have you?” (p. 51) Danforth asked frenetically. “Never, never!” (p. 51) I replied. “Never, never!” (p. 51) the girls copied. I grew hysterical and started stamping my feet. “Stop it!” (p. 51) I screamed

17: “Stop it!” (p. 51) they replied, stamping their feet. My hysteria rose to such a level that I could no longer control it. I raised my fists in the air and screamed at the top of my lungs. “STOP IT!” (p. 51) “STOP IT!” (p. 51) they copied again, raising their fists. I became confounded and overwhelmed by the girls’ conviction, and I started to whimper with my hands half raised, powerless. I lost all strength. Danforth accused me of witchcraft and ordered me to confess. Otherwise, I would hang. I had no choice but to lie and accuse John of being the devil’s man; i screamed that he wanted my name and had threatened me in order to help him overthrow the court. I yelled to John that I loved God and that I will no more follow his way. Abigail had her arms stretched wide open to draw me into her, and I rushed to her. John grew mad, exclaiming he saw Lucifer’s filthy face as Danforth ordered for him and Giles to go to jail. The scene was cruel and merciless. I was left with a weak stature like usual.

18: Reflective Entry: A reflective entry describes the meaning of a significant event including its importance, application in the future, and if it brought about any new changes or perspective.

19: March 23, 1692 While I was presenting my deposition, Danforth exclaimed “Do you not know that God damns all liars?” (p. 45) This statement mocks me to this very moment. After Abby and the girls made a colossal scene and accused me of bewitching them, I had no other choice but to take the blame off me and place it on somebody else. Mr. Proctor was the only person whom I could point the finger at, and it seemed rather credible that he was bewitching me considering the fact that he was the one who made me confess that Abby, the girls, and I made fraudulent accusations. This was wrong of me, and I hope God forgives me for bearing false witness, but there was no other way for me to escape the impasse. Rejoining Abby had made her leave me be, but I do not even want to fathom what would have happened to me if I did not “confess” to being bewitched by Proctor and if I continued on with my deposition. It would have been possible that Abby would have thoroughly convinced the whole town I was a witch, and I would have been sent to jail and hung! She would have done this not only out of pure revenge, but because there was no way she was going to let Mrs. Proctor stay with Mr. Proctor innocent and unharmed. I know I lied to protect myself, and indeed I am a liar- a pathetic, soiled, vile liar. God damns liars! What if I will thrive in eternal hell? Oh what I have I done? Will I ever be forgiven? Is there any hope for exoneration? And what of Mr. Proctor? I feel some remorse for having blamed the poor man, but then again, he had inflicted this tragedy on himself, had he not? My feelings are so woven in such a knotted mess that I cannot even begin to untangle any kind of solid emotions or opinions. What I do know is that I learned that I should have never become acquaintances with Abby, for she is a witch! She is a sniveling, demonic, vengeful, disgusting witch! She has me wrapped around her finger, and if I had never let her, then I would not have had to endure all this madness. I have learned that in this society, you cannot trust a single soul! They will turn on you in an instant just to protect their selfish soul just like I did and just like Abby did. I have also learned that no matter how strong I try to be, I seem to be just a fallen leaf in a stream, floating and following along with the course of the water. Outside influences seem to impact me greatly, for I am weak, and I want to learn to become a more independent woman.

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