‘Mrs William, it’s time to get ready,’ a maid shouted at the door before going back to cleaning the hallway or making food for the guest.
‘Yes of course,’ Mrs Williams or Susan said, the owner of the necklace and this was one of her memories, I just had to remember that and not think of it as one of mine.
‘May I help my lady?’ Annie –her maid servant- asked. Annie was a young about fourteen years old with brown hair pinned to her head in a braid and her plain shirt and dress showed that she was of lower class and these Susan must have looked down on her.
‘Yes please Annie,’ Susan said, or me since this is a first person dream… you know what I’m just going to say Susan.
Annie brought a full length mirror and I finally saw what Susan looked like. She had tight blonde curls that came down to her shoulders and baby blue eyes and her skin was so pale that it almost have the albino’s a ran for their money.
‘Does the mistress need help into her under-garments,’ Annie said and all Susan did was nod and wave her hand.
‘Thank you Annie,’ Susan said when the garments were on her… oh, boy is this thing tight. I couldn’t believe it… the amount of time middle/high class spent on their appearance sent the most girlish girl into shame and that was with the amount of cloth’s they worn. Not to mention I can’t breathe in this thing.
‘My son,’ a woman yelled and if I guessed right it was in the dungeon and more importantly… the torture chambers.
‘My lady,’ Annie said as bowed ‘it’s just Barbara and Paul.’
‘May we go see what the racket is about,’ Susan said and this was perfect for me, since I think I know who this Barbara is and hopeful I can find some answers so I can get away from “breathing is the last thing on the last along with comfort” clothing.
‘Yes of course my lady,’ Annie said okay rich people had it good back then, I mean all that has come out of Annie’s mouth was “yes, my lady,” she has said more, but I don’t Susan would have listen.
The castle looked well kept, well since it was newer than it is now and they have an army of servants, maids and slaves to clean the place… and is that lead paint. People wondered why they dead young… if they were lucky or unlucky, each to their own.
‘My son,’ Barbara said as Susan neared the doors, it seems that has been all the women have said so far?
‘What about your son?’ a man said… he must be a priest? Hate priests.
‘Yes my son,’ Barbara said and when she turned the corner what I saw I was canna expecting, but to this extreme and people wonder why I hate god.
There weren’t any photo’s or paintings of Barbara Kollerin and in fact she’s not mention much, but she was the one who started everything and got about a hundred and fifteen killed, most of them were children and teenagers.
What I did see made me sick to my stomach. Her left hand was missing and she was covered in scars, brushes and burn marks, the poor thing was covered in her own blood, didn’t these people know about mercy, no wonder they said whatever you wanted them to… death would have been better than this.
‘Paul Jacob Kollerin, my son,’ Barbara cried ‘has made a pact with Satan.’
Okay… now any mercy I had for this woman is gone, I mean she just old a lie about her own flesh and blood so for the hopes that she might live. With those injuries she won’t be alive very long… that’s if she lives. Susan was shocked, no not over the fact she just up her son to die, no it was because someone made a pact with Satan.
With that Susan walked out of the room with Annie hot her heels and the memory fades and I go into restful sleep thinking, and people wonder why I don’t like god. This is my reason… all this in the name of a god that doesn’t do anything.