Who am I to trust within this town of Salem

Who am I to trust within this town of Salem? My orders were defied by Mary leaving the house, coming back with a poppet spiked with a needle. Never would have I thought that a stuffed piece of cotton could weave tightly knit trouble for me. For Abigail, she must have been the one to mention my name in court, and the worst situation of all, my love John has come clean about Abigail and their alone time, behind closed doors. He knows I never trusted Abigail but still, John goes disregarding my feelings, time and time again. I have completely lost all trust in him and I find myself starting to question whether I even really know him anymore.
He reminds both him and I that his ‘home is a courtroom’ but sadly he fails to see as I, the courtroom in his very heart. However, my suspicions were aroused when Mary brought the poppet into my home, although I must admit I am still here because of her defence in court. Today, one had spoken against me, I could have been one of thirty-nine under the scope but thanks to my servant I am not. I have absolutely no doubt that it was a vengeful act crafted by Abigail, aiming to take my place in my husband’s bed.
I made a wise decision in dismissing Abigail from my home. The child who appears oh so innocent and dandy on the surface, transforms when what she craves is dangled in front of her, and deceit and immorality begin to build the bones of who she really is. I just wish with a whole heart that John would see completely as I do. She clearly uses her looks to lure my husband into sinning against the seventh commandment of god, and then puts me on trial for dealing with the devil. The licentious soul has manipulated others into lechery. She is the sinner! Not my husband, not I! Her! Not only was Abigail’s testimony a fault in my day, but to then be questioned of my faith by Hale, left me feeling unsettled about my future but more so my expected child’s.
When Hale came to visit me, tension floated in the air, leading me to believe that his visit was a serious one, and not personally inviting. The inconsistency in John and I’s church visits and coincidently the baptism of only two of our children were spoken about, however truthfully, my Illness was the cause of our erratic presence at church. Why are people so swift to lay the blame on? I guess the truth is bestowed in god, buried alongside John, our baby and I’s future.
On the close of our meeting, John was asked to recall the ten commandments, I am not startled to say my love had left out the seventh ‘thou shall not commit adultery’ and required my immediate assistance. Suspicion was deeply engraved on Hale’s face and I knew at this point that nothing could save me, or us. With each mistake that John made, the fault became larger, until it was simply unamendable. I was being arrested. Oh how I cannot bear the thought of my children living without their mother, in a time of such chaos and resentment. A time where, infectious and daft souls are listened to over the most noble of puritans. What has Salem become? A battleground where only the most virtuous are accused of witchcraft and hung in the gallows? Oh god, please help me, I can’t bear the thought of my sweet children undergoing this without a helping hand to guide them
through the dark. Without us, they would be abandoned, just like Abigail once was. I don’t want my children to follow in the same foot steps as her. They can’t, and they won’t!
Expectantly, Hale and Herrick arrived at the sight of my arrest, only to find the poppet in my house. Nothing was stopping them from arresting me… immediately. To my confusion, they inspected the needle and instantly related it to one found in Abigail’s abdomen.
To say the least, I was dumbfounded. I knew I had no relation between the poppet or Abigail as I had not ever used the doll. In fact, I forgot I even had the doll to begin with! I owe Mary my life for defending and protecting me, by admitting to creating and owning the doll. My husband on the contrary, was not as tranquil as I, and as a result ripped the warrant of my arrest, out of spite and frustration. Mary is yet to testify in court against Abigail, regarding the creation of the poppet. My life and my children’s future now rest heavily in the hands of my maid, Mary Warren.