Pocketful Of Posies

• Rachel Tait, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2009

The swing set creaked in sync with the crickets’ choir as the pine forest groaned; it’s leaves rustling in a melodic whisper. The playground was alive with the faintest sound of laughter, innocent and carefree, a child’s laughter. My parker was no defence against the gale that blew, as if it were the conductor of this non-existent orchestra. Clouds shrouded the moonlight, dimming my surroundings considerably; it was then I saw them. I caught glimpses of silvery wisps floating around me as they formed a ring, their beauty leaving me speechless. If things had been different it might have worried me that I could see these ethereal beings. They made me feel alive, they noticed me and to me it meant that someone or something knew I existed.
The laughter rapidly changes, the cricket’s crescendo and the gale becomes a cyclone as voices rose over Mother Natures Tirade.
Ring around the rosy, a pocketful of posies, ashes, ashes we all fall down.
The voices seemed to be coming from inside my head, screaming the rhyme as the wisps grew clearer too me.
Ring around the rosy, a pocketful of posies, ashes, ashes we all fall down.
My heart soared in my throat, beating dangerously, fear overcame me for the first time and it felt like everything around me sped up. The voices became clearer and louder and chills wracked my body. My hands shook violently as I futilely covered my ears in an attempt to keep the voices out. Tears welled in my eyes and I screamed for everything to stop, it was all too much and my heart seemed to spring out of my chest with each sharp breath I took. I cried, prayed for someone, anyone to stop all of this, I would do anything for it all to just stop.
I sneezed.
The world came to a dramatic halt and everything seemed to move in slow motion as the cyclone died, the trees stood still, the swings became motionless and the music ceased to exist. I stood dizzily, slowly uncovering my ears as my head became too big for my body and I swayed where I stood. I crashed to the ground in a limp pile of skin and bones.
My friends greeted me in all their white finery; finally I could see them all. Cold tiny hands grasped mine and pulled me too my feet as if I were light as a feather. The world was brighter and the sweet laughter returned, I no longer felt dizzy. In fact I felt nothing at all.
Shayla Rose, 9yrs of age, was discovered in the early hours of Sunday morning at Old London Park. Red rashes found covering her indicate that the cause of death was the Black Death. A warning to all… the plague has returned.