Quarantined

I shrugged as a few more cold raindrops ran down my back trying to erase the eerie feeling. It was of no use, it was heavily raining as my group and I trudged towards the Disinfecting and Bathing Complex. This was not what I had had in mind when I thought of coming to Australia. I caught the Spanish Flu soon after the Captain announced the outbreak on the ship.
The cold water that I was washing with sent shivers deep into my bones and making my lips turn blue. It made me uncomfortable to be bathing in front of other women as well as the fact that the male supervisors were only a couple of feet away. The bathing facility was just a concrete and bricks room with holes in the wall at the top were the harsh sea wind blew through making cold icy draughts. There were nothing to dry off with and I felt another woman’s eyes on me as I pulled my dress back on over my body.
I remember as I child I used to find the ocean majestic and I laughed darkly at how know it represents all the misery and horror that echoes in my life. The endless torment of yet another day sets into my mind sending into me into a spiral of despair. My body aches and the pain sends a tear rolling down my cheek. I watch the sea as it heaves and roars the rain is constant and the clouds remain a greyish purple. As I wait to be attended to by one of the nurses and given a bed I looked out a cross the harbour I saw the lights of a town on the shoreline to my left. How I yearned to be there in a warm bed, it looked safe and cosy even from miles away.
The ward in which I was staying in was right next to the morgue and the presence of death hung heavy in the air. The walls shimmered and swayed in the light of the candle. It was so hot in here. I longed for the cool draughts of the bathhouse. There was no kind, cool breeze in here. Sweat poured down my body in what seemed like torrents dampening the sheets making them stick to my skin as I tossed around in the bed. I was barely aware of the fact I was babbling. Water, I needed water my mouth was so dry and I groaned as the walls spun around me again.
I knew I was dying; the man in the bed next to me was already dead. The only reason I noticed through the haze was the fact that the groaning and sobbing had ceased. The blackness started creeping in through my fingertips and toes. The pain in my joints had ceased and I had the feeling as if I was being lifted and taken away. I sighed and slipped into the quiet, cool dark.

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