Is It Worth It?

Chapter 4

The inevitable came. Mirabelle was dead. She died late last night. I still remember Paul beating on my door sobbing. And as I opened the door I already knew what had happened. I tried to comfort the man the best I could. He asked if I could help carry her out of his house and I said I would. As we arrived at his house he said that he'd rather stay outside and that Mirabelle was in the bedroom. I walked into the house and could smell the rich aroma of meat, Mirabelle always could make the best sausages. When I finally got to the door of the bedroom I could smell the death. I twisted the doorknob very slowly as though I was scared to wake her. I pushed the door open and saw Mirabelle sprawled on the bed. She had the worst signs of the sickness I've seen. Instead of just her arms and hands having the charred like skin her legs had the diseased flesh as well. The swollen flesh on her armpits looked like they would explode at any moment and leaked puss. But the eyes by far were the worst. The eyes were sunken in as though they were sinking into the pale head. They were black and blood was leaking from around the eyeball. The bedsheets were covered in blood. I could see that there was blood flowing from her mouth in a steady stream. I heard something behind me and saw that it was Paul. He had red eyes most likely from crying, and he had a pair of black robes with a beak like mask on top of the robes. Paul was already wearing his robes. "Put these on" he said as he handed the robe and mask to me. I put the robe on and grabbed the mask and saw that deep inside there were some herbs. "Why are there herbs in this mask?" I asked. "They keep out the sickness so we may breath untainted air", he said as he put his mask on. I simply nodded and put the mask on. He told me to pick her up and  take her outside. I picked her up and as soon as I did, Paul started ripping the bedsheets off the bed and said "These sheets are tainted and must be disposed of". I continued to the door and he opened it for me since both of my hands were occupied. As I went out the door and down the steps I could see a fire in the distance. "I've already started the fire" he said as he walked in front of me still carrying the sheets. As I got in front of the fire, he told me to stop. I did so and he threw the sheets on the fire. "Give me her" he said. I did so and he said under his breath so lightly that I could barely hear him "Goodbye, my love" and with that he tossed the body on the fire. He then got on his knees and started praying and crying at the same time. I could only sit and wait for the poor man to make his peace. After about thirty minutes he arose and traveled back to his house. Now, I am sitting in the lounge of Paul's house with a cup of tea in my hands. Paul is staring blankly at an old picture above me of Mirabelle. "I miss her" he said never taking his eyes off the picture. "I do too, she was a great woman" I said trying to comfort him. I told him to not even worry about coming to the bank tomorrow, and to not come back until he was ready. He thanked me and said that he was going to try and get some sleep. I nodded and got up and left. As I was leaving the home I heard a familiar voice. I saw Aveline walking down the street towards me. "Hello Aveline, what brings you out this afternoon?" I asked. "I was going to the market but it seemed that most of the vendors were sparse of goods" she said shaking from the cold. "You need to get indoors, it's too cold to be outdoors at this time of the year.", I said. " You're right I'll go ahead and start walking home now" she said as she turned and started walking. "I don't live far if you want to visit my house" I said. She turned and said "I'd like that very much". We walked to my house and walked inside. Aveline took a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace and looked at the sorry excuse for a fire. The fire was very weak and was barely producing any warmth. I went to the cellar and grabbed some wood and walked back upstairs and placed the wood on the fire. Aveline wasn't on the couch anymore. After looking for her for a few moments I finally found her looking at a painting of a very serious looking old man. "Who is that?" she asked. "My great-grandfather." I said. She simply nodded and continued to stare at the picture. "Would you like some tea?" I finally asked. "I would but I really must be going now" she said. "Oh, ok maybe another time then." I said. I walked her to the door. "Thank you for your hospitality, Raphael", "Thank you for your company, Aveline" I said. I opened the door for her and she left. I checked my watch for the time, five o'clock. The day was coming to an end. I retreated to my study and read an old book that I hadn't touched in a few years. When I finally stopped it was eight forty-five. I got up and turned to the window behind me and saw a fire. Some people were burning bodies. I quickly turned away and went to my bedroom and went to sleep. I awoke and ate some cooked oats with raisins and started walking to the bank. I noticed that the streets were clear for the time being of bodies. I got to the bank and opened the door and to my surprise Paul was there at his desk doing paperwork as though nothing changed. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "I needed to get my mind occupied and not think of Mira- Mirabelle" he said choking on the last word. I could see tears welling up in his eyes. "It's ok my friend she's in a better place now, she doesn't have to suffer any longer" I said doing my best to calm Paul down. He looked up at me "You're right, I should be happy for her", "Yes, yes you should" I said still scared that any moment Paul would start crying again. But Paul didn't, instead he simply said thank you and continued his work. I sat in my seat and waited for someone to come and invest some money. It had been three hours before I lost hope. I got up and left. The bank couldn't survive like this for much longer. It needed investments to survive. As I walked to my house full of dissapointment I noticed that over time the roads were starting to have bodies of disease and stench. For the past few days I heard a man go around yelling out "Bring out your dead" followed by a large cart full of the recently deacesed. At first I only saw the cart sparsely. Now it was an everyday occurrence making its rounds once it the morning and once at night. When I arrived at my house I read the bible in front of the fireplace for what seemed like a long time. I got up and went to the cellar and grabbed some wood and returned upstairs to the fireplace and tossed the wood in. I then started up the stairs to my bedroom and undressed and fell in my bed. Before I went to sleep I could hear the cryer yelling "Bring out your dead!"