It Was Coming

• Rylie Prior, Grade 6, St Martin's Primary School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

Up a dark, gloomy alleyway - a place you might not might not even notice unless someone pointed it out to you - where puddles gather between the stones outside, cracked and crumbled unlike the rest of the roads in the city. Where the unkempt road leads to an overtowering building, a sombre shadow cast upon it, with caged windows and comfortless coloured bricks surrounding the structure. A place you wouldn’t know that they kept homeless boys unless you read the sign above the antique doors that read Orphanage For Misbehaving Boys.
*
As he reached the end of the street, gasping for air, the sound of people filled his ears. It was the main road where all the horse and carts travelled and where the markets were held. It was always busy here.
As he ambled through the crowd - being the small 11 year old he was - he got pushed by the hustle and bustle of everyone. A tall man wearing a black top hat, a long beige coat with large buttons lining the hems, gray slacks and polished black shoes saw him. He was lean, had a wooden cane, rings dressing his hands and a long pipe in his mouth. He smelt of smoke and cologne just like any other “Rich” would. People like Jesse were called the “Poor” and people like the man were classified the “Rich”. There was no inbetween.
The man went up to Jesse sprawled on the ground with a kind look on his face. When he held out his hand he recoiled it immediately once saw Jesse’s figure.
“You disgusting little pest. You are a waste to our city. The Poor should not exist.”
His low, raspy voice was daunting.
The man stood up and whacked him with his cane. Jesse got up and ran behind the bread stall where he was no longer in sight of anyone. Jesse put his back to the wooden cart, sat down and pulled his knees to his chest. He wanted to rid of all the Rich. They were all cruel.
Jesse was strong and courageous but at times all he wanted to do was disappear from the world and melt into a place of peace. He wanted to have something he wouldn’t have. Eternal happiness.
Tears rolling down his face dropped down onto his scratched knees and his eyes stung from being rubbed from his dirty, torn hands. When nobody was looking he ran home, the one place he felt he belonged.
*
When he reached home he walked into the tent to rest. In the corner of the room, where his parents slept, there were two figures laid against the brick wall their tent backed onto. At first he didn’t know what they were but until he walked closer he saw it was his parents, burns covering their body. He would be sent to The Orphanage For Misbehaving Boys.
This couldn’t be happening to him.
The Black Plague was here.
It was coming.