Why Me?

I stood there, these accusing eyes upon me, yelling about God and Witches, have they lost their minds? Why me, Tituba, a simple house slave, accused of such a crime? I was brought here thinking it would be easier than Barbados. It was all fine, taking care of the young girl who lay in front of me, passed out on a bed while the other hurled accusation after accusation at me.

Why me? A simple house slave, being convicted of such a heinous act. I was innocent, yes I did joke about it, but I was only joking, I wanted to scare the girl, that's all. But not this, not this priest yelling in my face, telling me to repent for my sins. I did no such thing!

Why me?! Why must a simple house slave be brought in front of a court, to be shouted at and accused of courting with the devil. I did no such thing, I'm just a slave, nothing more nothing less. 

Why must i be shouted at, spittle covering my face, as the priest shouts at the top of his lungs for me to repent to god, for me to admit my sins to him and repent.

Why me? A simple house slave, being thrown into a jail cell, all of the chaos outside seeming like a dream as I sat in that dark murky cell, my joints sore, my stomach empty. 

Why me? Nothing but a house slave, be convicted of such a crime? Why me??