This is my creative writing, it was the last task I had to do about the Black Death in Social Studies. I have included old English so that when reading, you can feel like you're in medieval times and some descriptive words.
Hus = House
Shall = Must or Will
Flagon = A large container which drink is served
Jovial = Cheerful, Happy, Joyful
Dejected = Sad and Depressed
Wifman = Woman
x
I looked up at the sky, the clouds were no longer white or pale grey, instead they were blackened shadows that shifted along the wind. The scene before me was chilling, where I stand used to be a jovial town, now, it is filled with dejected souls. Like it’s been cursed by the wicked.
I stopped in front of a patient hus’ door, I tapped the door using my cane, the door creaked open. “Ah doctor, this way please” I scanned her, she was filthy, she had blood on her dress, she wasn’t wearing any footwear, she had a dirty face, poor peasant.
She led me to the room of the victim, he looked horrible, “This is my son” the lady spoke, “Pleased to meet you” I said, before the victim could speak a word, he coughed, he whimpered, I heard the lady sobbed. “I will try to do everything I can to cure him” I assured the lady to make her feel a little bit better.
I slowly lifted his arms using my cane, the buboes were as big as an egg, I took out my scalpel, “This will hurt” I told the victim “It does not matter, as long as I can be cured, I will endure everything” I slowly cut the buboes, black blood leaked, the victim hissed in pain.
I rubbed onion on his armpits, “You shall need to drink this” I took out a flagon that had treacle in it, poured him on a cup that was on the table. He took it and gulped until the last drop of the liquid. “You will need to take a lot of rest”.
“I will need to examine you lest you have been infected” I told the wifman. After I had done an examination, I told her to rest. A couple of hours have passed, I have burned logs, they both came to me looking a little healthier “Sit close to the fire, it will cure your fever” I said. “We feel a lot better, thanks to you” The wifman smiled genuinely while sitting on the chair with her son “It is my job, I must take my leave” I said “Thank you again, God bless you”. “Make sure to drink the treacle I left on your table and to take a lot of rest” “Yes we will” I took my leave and went to the next victim’s hus. And that’s what I do everyday as the plague doctor.