The Black Death

• Emi Taylor, Grade 4, Howrah Primary School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

As my horse trotted along into the heart of London there was something off about the city, no longer were there the shouts of the people bargaining, yelling about rotten food and screaming about thieves. There was an unmistakeable sense of worry. I prayed the great plague won’t have come to the once beautiful city that I called home.
As I urged my horse faster to my parents’ home I began to wonder what would happen to the greatest cites in the world. As I finally burst into the hallway it was silent. The dust and dirt rose wherever I stepped. The cobwebs made everything look dark and imposing. I took my time, worrying about what I would find at the end. I lay my fingers on the doorknob, took a deep breath and opened the door.
My eyes met a horrible sight. Father was lying on the floor with black spots all over his face. Worse than that his eyes were glassy. I ran up my father and felt tears streak my dusty face.
‘No’, I whispered, ‘No’.
Then a strange man in what looked like a bird’s beak strode out of the shadows and said in a hoarse whisper, ‘This house is condemned with the plague, you may not leave the house as you too may have the malady that has been raging down these streets.’
I looked at my two needy sisters and my weak mother, I took a deep breath and proclaimed, ‘We would rather live on the streets.’
The bird beaked man sneered, ‘Then live on the streets for all I care!’
I heard a sharp intake of breath and remembered that living on the streets of London there’s a good chance that you will perish and no-one will notice, and if they do they won’t care.
Five days later we were on the streets of London. I roamed the graveyard out of misery. When it was getting late I shuffled down Whatling Street to the place where we would be sleeping for the night.
‘Hello darling’, croaked Mother. My sister’s eyes snapped open and she exclaimed in a raspy voice, ‘You have doomed us all sister’.
’I know ‘, I stated, ’trust me, I know’.
That night I had a terrible nightmare. This is how it went.
’You wouldn’t wanna go ‘o London in these times miss’, chirped the small boy that was feeding my horse. I inquired why. ’It’s the great plague, miss, the plague’, then he turned into a demon that swooped down to the fields where Father was playing. He bit Father on the neck and my sisters rushed towards Father. My sister once again proclaimed, ‘You have doomed us all sister’.
I awoke to the sight of a mangled body and started to retch on the streets. I wondered how I would go at being sudden head of the family and I couldn’t look at my mother for guidance, not after she’d been murdered in the night…