[ WP ] A man is in court accused of witch craft . It 's 2014 .

First time writing, be gentle. 
 
 
 `` Mr. James, you are here today because you have been accused of practising witchcraft. Mrs. Banks has brought forward to the courts that you were seen on the night of April the 3rd in the year of 2014 conjuring a familiar in your backyard with the help of your family. You will be tried by a jury of your peers. If found guilty, you will be punished with a traditional execution as according the law.'' States the prosecution lawyer, a gangly and rather pasty woman by the name of Mrs. Wright. I do n't like her, she scares me. 
 
 Traditional execution. I wonder if I will be burnt at the stake or drowned in a river? 
 I sat at my table, no lawyer present for my case. In a cage, like an animal. Iron, covered in salt, milk and honey. Not even the devil could get out of this cage. I was being tried for witchcraft, and as such, did not deserve a legal representation because I am not classified as human. Our race was almost wiped out during 15th century until the late 18th century. witchcraft was punishable by death then, and it is punishable by death now. 
 
 The law passed three weeks ago. Many of us have gone into hiding. Back to the communities that we left hundreds of years ago. My family and I stayed. My children have school, my wife has an upstanding job and I have my own work commitments. I did n't think our neighbours would turn on us. Joan and Steve have been our friends for fifteen years. I though we were safe. 
 
 I was wrong. 
 
 `` Mr. James, do you plead guilty to one count of conjuring, three counts of endangerment to your family and one count of witchcraft in the highest order?'' The judge asks me, a burly old black guy. 
 
 I do n't know how to plead, I should n't lie, but if I do n't I will definitely die a horrible death. What of my kids? What of Jessie? 
 
 `` I plead not guilty, your honor.'' I'm sweating, I feel sick. I should have left with the others like my wife said. Women, always fucking right. I wonder how she is, is she being interrogated too? 
 
 `` Please make it noted that Mr. Robert James pleads not guilty to all counts. We will now head on to the evidence against him.'' 
 
 They are now showing pictures of me sitting in the back yard with the kids, we are playing with a cat. No magic was used that night. We were just playing with a stray that walked into our yard. It was the night before I was taken away, thrown in a iron cell, salt layered the walls. I'm screwed 
 
 Joan is now on the stand. Explaining how she feared for her life while we were conversing with the devil in our minds. Conjuring demons from hell. Explaining how she always knew there was something wrong with us. Always strange. Always different. We would look after her kids when her and Steve went to the theatre. If we were so different, then why were the kids allowed to stay? I never liked her. 
 
 She has finished on the stand. There is no evidence, no residual hoodoo. Nothing. All they have are a couple of pictures of us playing with this little cat and one nut jobs eye witness account of sweet fuck all. 
 
 I do n't get a say on what happened. I am a supernatural being and as such have no rights in modern day law. So they are just going through the legal chit chat. You know the gist, he was here, they saw this, he did that. Guilty, guilty, guilty. I'm fucked. Completely fucked. What's going to happen to my kids, my wife and the dog? 
 
 Maybe god will have mercy on my soul. Who am I kidding. I'm going to hell to suffer for eternity with the Morning Star. Fucked. 
 
 `` Mr. James! If you could please pay attention.'' Someone has yelled. I must be thinking too hard again. 
 
 `` Mr. James we will now be hearing from the jury with your verdict.'' The judge has turned from me and is now facing the jury. `` People of the jury, how do you find Mr. Robert James?'' 
 
 `` We find the defendant guilty of all counts.'' Oh god. I'm going to die. I ca n't even escape. What's going to happen to my family. Maybe they can leave. Start a new life. I hope. 
 
 -- -- 
 
 I've been woken up, it still dark out. I do n't get a last meal. No priest for a consort of the devil. I'm being burnt at the stake. I wish they would drown me. Stone me. Anything other than fire. I'm going to smell it. Taste it. Feel it cook me alive. 
 
 They're leading me out to a courtyard. There is a wood pole at the back wall, sticks and blocks of wood stacked under it. Stands on the opposite wall. Cameras everywhere, so the whole world can see. I'm an example. I'm a criminal. I'm going to die. 
 
 Here I am. Standing on the platform. Tied to the wood with iron shackles. This is going to hurt. 
 
 There is a crowd. They're all wearing masks. Maybe I ca n't take their soul If I do n't know who they are. Maybe they're afraid if retribution. A man is walking towards me, wearing a black hood, holding a burning torch. I ca n't see his face. This is it. He carefully places the flame in a hole at the base of the wood. Oh god. 
 
 There is no smoke. Damn. I was hoping I could just suffocate. Nope, burning alive it is. I wonder if someone is going to save me. 
 
 Fire. Oh god, fire. It's licking up my clothes. I ca n't feel my feet, my legs. My torso Is burning. I can feel it. I want to die. Someone kill me please. 
 
 The fire is growing. It's moving up my body. Still no smoke, so I can burn like the heathen that I am. Burn for a hour, burn for an eternity. 
 
 Pain. That is all I am. That is all I know. Pain, growing like the fire around me. I ca n't feel anything other than the pain. 
 
 Pain, fire. Then, nothing. 
 

