Christina's Ghosts (awaiting an agent)

They called me a witch. When my mistress wrapped herself in the long drapes, turning slowly until she was a worm in a cocoon, and keened—a high-pitched wail that sliced through the air--suddenly, all eyes were on me, Christina. The men began to back out of the room.

“Possession…witch…sinners…”

There could be no other explanation. Somehow, despite donning spiritual armor every morning, a demon had entered. Perhaps with the blood of the birth.

"They think it is my doing," I thought. "In the night, when I lie with her husband, I can hear the demon breathing, waiting to take my soul."