Plague Chronicle

End of April, 194-

Well, I don’t know how to start this, since I have never written anything of this sort before, but the things that are happening around here, things that have never happened in our town, things that chill your blood, because they do not have an explanation. You are petrified for you cannot know, whether you might be in the center of the weird happenings next. First I did not notice all the losses and abnormalities, but now it has been becoming more obvious to me that something vile and atrocious is happening. I am growing worried, for I have no idea what will happen next and whether it could harm me and my loved ones in any way.

I am a teenage girl from Oran, a province of France in Africa. Although the European countries have been fighting over this region and our city for quite a while, now it is peaceful under the rule of the French. I have to admit, until these haunting and perplexing deaths started happening, Oran was too peaceful for my taste. Nothing new ever happened here, life felt stale. It was always the same old people, routs, weather, occurrences, the same cycle of a person’s birth, life and death. Many kids in my class have already forgot how to have fun and now prefer following in the steps of their parents, following their routines, for they are scared to mess up their lives, but for me, I rather make my own mistakes, although I do believe in learning on the mistakes of others. One of the things I learned from my parents is not to work all the time and obsess about the income, since I see how this obsession of earning more money makes me feel neglected and forgotten, for my parents are gone most of the day and often do not get home until midnight.

The first memory I have of something happening out of the ordinary was in mid-April. Back then I was oblivious that something bigger and more dangerous was brewing under the surface. I remember that dead rats were found in ones and twos on the bus I take to school, at school, as well as on the staircase landing at our house and many other houses as well. Then things started getting worse, rats were no longer found in ones and twos, but in dozens and no longer in small buildings and private places, but now on the streets, in warehouses and factories. As days went by, the amount of dead rats everywhere continued increasing and the people started dealing with the little corpses. The rats were gathered in piles and taken to be dispose of. As I walked down the street I was rather nonchalant, for I didn’t believe that anything could shatter the indifferent routine of my everyday life. Oh how wrong was I! But then without warning the rats disappeared. Sure once or twice another dead rat was found on the street, but even those soon vanished. That is when our neighbor got sick. He was a young and healthy man that went by Baudin.  Once or twice we invited him for dinner, for as an only child, my parents tried to find someone I could pester rather than them and distract them from their ever sacred work. I also believe that another reason for my parent’s invitation was that Baudin was a starting municipal officer and was having money problems. My parents believed that if he died of starvation, we his neighbors, would not look good. So after I came home on April 26, I picked up some bread that my mother bought for Baudin and went next door to give it to him. When I walked up to his door there was a note saying that he is sick and waiting for the doctor and as he is resting, he does not wish to be disturbed, so I left the bread under his door and went to my room. In four days after reading the note on his door, Baudin died. My parents informed me of this and explain that he had a fever and abscesses on his body, as well as some black patches on his legs and arms. For the next couple of days nothing happened, but much less children and teachers showed up for classes. The rumor had it that they were sick with the fever and had to stay home in order to recover.

But today I realized I was wrong, things have been happening and although I do not know what exactly, something is obviously awakening from a long sleep. While walking from school through a small arch, far from the main street I came across a paper hanging on the wall. It said, “ There have been cases of sever fever in Oran  and it is not yet known to the authorities of Oran whether it is contagious or not, but in order to prevent any epidemic these precautions should be followed.” It then went to describe how more rats would be killed (why? Didn’t already enough of them die?) and then there was a list of all the precautions that were necessary to take to protect oneself from any chance of catching the fever. What terrified me was the part about anyone being sick with the fever would be isolated in special hospital wards, and although sometimes my parents are neglecting I love and care for them, as they do for me, so I would not like to leave them and in addition it would be miserable to be isolated from my classmates because of some fever. The last phrase on the paper made my heart stop. It said, “Anyone who has been in contact with any human sick with the fever should go and consult the sanitary inspector and unconditionally do whatever you are told, in order to make sure the fever is not spread”. I remembered that day I stopped by the Baudin’s door and that the symptoms he had, were the same ones listed in this paper. After I ripped the paper of the wall and ran all the way home, I came into my room. Now I am laying on top the bed rereading the paper trying to figure out more details of the eerie occurrences that have so far happened. I am terrified to breath a word to my parents, because I fear that the story might come spilling out and that might result in my isolation and separation from all those I know. The thing that terrifies me the most is that I don’t understand what is happening, I do not understand what this fever is and I do not understand what the presence of this fever might mean for my daily routine. Although I complained about the routine quite often, now I see that I am not ready to pay such a high price to experience anything I longed for. I sit and hope and pray that life will go back to the boring, monotonous flow of the same events, same streets and classrooms, for although I suffered of boredom and craved adventure, I was safe and sure of the reality, people and indestructability of life as I knew it.