www.whyville.net Sep 6, 2009 Weekly Issue

Times Writer

Black Death: Part 7

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I turned down the next street that led back to my home. No one was in sight and there was a eerie silence that sent shivers up my spine.

Every house on the street was marked with an "X".

I rounded the last bend and started up the path to my home.

To my horror, there was an "X" on the door to my house!

I tried opening it, but somehow it wouldn't open. I ran to the windows, trying to climb through, but they were too high. I needed something to stand on, to reach the window.

Looking around the yard, I finally found a barrel. After rolling it to the window, I wiped my hands on my already soiled dress and climbed up. The barrel was the perfect size. I was right at the window. All I needed to do was climb through.

Suddenly, I lost my balance and tumbled into my house landing roughly on the hard wooden floor. The fall caused the skin on my knees to split open and start to bleed. I already had so many cuts and scrapes on me that the injury on my knees barely slowed me down.

As I got to my feet I noticed a lifeless heap by the bed. I slowly got closer and closer. The lifeless heap was a person . . . it was Mama.



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