I feel empty. I feel darkness pass inside me and through me devouring me into pure emptiness. I feel my walls cracking. I feel my suds rot and my inner structure collapse in upon itself to relieve my suffering.
I wish this upon myself I no longer want to exist. I am a house. I am a house that wishfully rots away. I once felt the joy of being the shelter from the storm. I once felt the joy of being filled with a family that cared for me, kept me and cherished me. I felt the joy of love on all holidays.
I was decorated with care and I stood with pride because I was the most beautiful house on my street. I felt more beautiful than the palace here in my city of London. Now it is all gone. The family is all gone to the pits where the store all the dead families. Fist it was the youngest Sarah.
Then quickly followed by Geoffrey the eldest son. Nest was the woman of the house Amy which I especially cared for because of her wonderful ability to clean me. Last was the man of the house Bruce. Every night I heard his cries as each family member dies.
And then I heard his screams as the plague ate his body alive. I can still remember the scratching on my walls as he struggled with the pain of this great sickness. No matter how hard I tried to be the great shelter I once was. No matter how tight I shut my windows and doors.
No matter how I wished them not to leave the house. I could not keep the plague out. I remember when it all started her in London. The whole family was out when I first heard about this killer. I was anxiously waiting there return when the man from the house that sat next to me was informing one of his friends on the death of Mr. Robinson the store keeper.
The Essay on Jane Austen House Family Home
Jane Austen was born Saturday December 16, 1775 in the Steventon rectory in North East Hampshire. She was the seventh child and second daughter of Reverend George Austen and Cassandra Leigh. Jane Austen's parents said that "They were pleased to have a second daughter. A present plaything for her sister C assy and a future companion" (Tomalin 4). Her father christened Jane Austen at home. She grew ...
He informed the man to keep quiet about the whole situation until he could go over and diagnose the man. His friend replied in a curious manner wondering why his friend looked so worried about a single mans death. The man of the house stared straight into th eyes of his friend and spoke as if a preacher and replied he had seen me no man ever die like this before. He spoke of Mr. Robinson’s violent vomiting, aching joints, swollen body and he had fear in his eyes as he spoke of wretched orbital that covered his body filled with his own fluid. Now the man’s friend now understood, but did not feel fear until he was quickly informed that the rest of his house are all showing similar symptoms.
After hearing this I wanted nothing but to keep my family inside and protect them form such a sickness. I thought of nothing but there safe return. The family returned in the evening all wonderfully healthy. Oh, my wonderful family I can still feel the warmth they filled me with. The conversation I had heard that afternoon was still gnawing at the back of my mind. I only wanted to protect them so when they all returned to their chambers I made sure my portals were all closed extra tight.
The next morning the whole street was in chaos. People were all a buzz about what had happened to Mr. Robinson and his family. Everyone was astounded not only of his death, but the fact his entire household was dying of a disease that killed them in slow and great pain. Now I only wished to protect my family, but even I did not feel fear until rumors were spread that the man of the house that sat nest to us has also fallen ill.
After this news hit I was in great panic. With out my family I was nothing. There was no point in living. On the dawn of the following day I say a beautiful sunrise on a beautiful day. If I had known that this was the last day I would have a completely healthy family again I would have paid a little more attention to it. I would have appreciated everything a little more.
The Essay on “The Last 203 Days of Sarah’s Life”
Sarah’s daughter Kaye expressed her feelings throughout the video, the frustration, the good and bad days her mother had, all of which affect the care givers state of being. Listening to the sadness in Kaye’s voice reached me. I was able to relate with her situation because I just recently heard the same from my own aunt who takes care of my grandmother. It’s the hardest thing to witness when the ...
Bruce was arguing with Amy about the fact that he should not go visit our next store neighbor in fear that he too will become sick. He replied that he could not leave his neighbor over there without visiting him in his time of need. He exclaimed it simply wasn’t neighborly. Amy was not giving up her position because she feared this strange new sickness.
She tried to make him stay by also adding that she had spotted rates in the cellar and that he needed to go and do something about it because Sarah’s play room was located there. Bruce continued to point out that the rats were more afraid of Sarah then Sarah was of them. And then out of egotistical male pride he now Make it a point to visit his neighbor. And I didn’t see the pain that was about to come my way. If I only I was good enough to keep the sickness out.
The third day began with even more people a stir about the current situation of the sickness. I t seems it was spreading and other households were also becoming infected. This third day was the beginning of the end. Little Sarah had a fever in the late afternoon. In the night she started to vomit and her health plummeted.
A feeling that this was my fault caused a pain that set my heart on fire. I feared she had this epidemic that seemed to start to have an effect on the entire city. Six days later Sarah died and the rest of the family was ill. The entire city was a ghost. The streets were all empty as no one ventured out any longer. The “Black Death”, was the name given to this plague that showed no mercy.
The details are fading so fast. I can feel as if the plague is consuming me too. I no longer want to exsisit. The only thing more painful than seeing this happen is to relive it in my memories. My bricks are falling. My walls are cracking.
My roof is caving in and I can no longer remember I willfully let the plague lay me to rest in peace.
