Clothes landed in the rugged old suitcase, haphazardly thrown by the panic stricken faceless female, these continued to pile up until the case could just barely be closed. On the other side of the one room cottage, a faceless male gathered necessary supplies for a long trip; some food, water and other such nick-knacks. In the mists of all this, there stood two small children, a boy and a younger girl, lost as to what was going on around them and confused they the adults’ actions. Once all that would be needed was gathered the children’s hands were grabbed and the entire family left all that they had known behind them at the fastest pace the children could possibly go. They began their way into the woods, nearby what was once their home. After some time the little girl became tired and started to slow the whole group down, allowing the villagers to catch up. There was a smell of burning wood in the air, one that would linger for days, and what could only be angry hollers began to be heard. At which point the male hitched the tired little girl onto his shoulders while the female encouraged the boy to go faster, allowing for an ever widening gap to be created between the group and the small wooden cottage that was being burned to the ground by the small town villagers, people the family had once called friends. The home was engulfed in flames while the angry mob cheered and chanted,

“Burn the witch. Burn the witch.”