When it Rains Red

The villagers have always assumed you were a witch. You are not — you are simply smart, which in their view amounts to the same thing. They have grown tired of the distinction. The preferred outcome, from their perspective, is watching you burn. You have no interest in obliging them. You run. Your girlfriend insists on coming along, which you feel guilty about — though she appears, strangely, to be the most excited person in this situation.