Writer's Games Entries

Task 3: "The Donkey"

"Skynd dere nå, barn, vi skyndte oss hjem til far," I hear behind me. I turn to my left and see a mother with her two children, somewhat in the distance, scurry off towards their house. I'm confused. They look back at me several times as if it's me that they're trying to run away from. I'll admit that something feels different, but the way they were looking at me was as if they were petrified. Why did they run away from me like that? I can only think of the Games as a reason, but I haven't killed anyone (yet).

There's something about my body that feels different. For some reason it feels heavier and almost like it's lived a far longer life than I actually have. It feels old and wretched. The scenery around me is nothing like the modern age that I come from. It takes me back in time...it reminds me a bit of the 1300s or something around that, when my city was a trading main-point in Europe. What's getting to me the most however, is that in the distance, I can see the shapes of people hiding behind the curtains the moment I look their way. In the distance, I can even hear them pray for strength.

I sense this tickle in my throat after a while and shortly afterwards I start coughing. It's not gentle. It feels like it's scraping up the insides of my throat and I sense the taste of blood. I cover my mouth with my hand and when I look at it, I see a rather big pile of blood. That's when I look at my hand at all ever since...this, whatever this is, happened. My hand is shaking and it's covered by a million wrinkles...and black spots. I don't understand what's going on.

I notice that I am supporting myself on something – a broom. I don't know why that unnerves me, but somehow it does. I am dressed in what looks like an old black rag or cloak and I feel over a hundred years old or so. My movement is quite limited and I am depending on the broom to keep my balance. I'm walking past a small house on my left while closing in on a village right in front of me.

"Dette kommer til å gå fint vennen. Det er bare litt hoste, men du kommer til å bli bra igjen," I hear a mother comfort her child through a window as I walk past a house towards the village. The mother coincidentally looks out the window and spots me. She immediately starts to cry, hoping that it isn't true. She cries hysterically every time she looks at me and I don't even understand why. There is a black marking on the door to her house, and several more as I keep walking. Curiosity brings me closer to the window of one of the houses just to see children and adults coughing blood, sweating feverish and have black marks all over their bodies.

The resemblance is unnervingly similar to the markings on my own hands. I make it to the small village. The houses are worn down, all covered in black as the more eyes are laid upon me, the more fear-stricken people become, especially when they see the broom. I mean, I am feeling like I am a hundred years old and I'm sure I look hideous, but I don't think that is the reason why people are running away from me. There has to be something more to it that I don't really see.

As I keep walking a bit further, the thought of encountering any of the other tributes suddenly strike my mind. The funny part though is that them possibly popping up to kill hasn't crossed my mind until now. However I haven't spotted a single sign of any of the other remaining tributes, and I have a feeling there's a reason for that. Something tells me I'm going to find out at some point too because these are still Games (I think).

I see this old, worn-down shed standing by itself. I decide to walk towards it. It doesn't look like it's been lived in for quite a while. The moment I step inside, there's this stench of rot and...blood. My stomach is almost turning upside down and the floor is slippery because I almost lose grip right away. The wood is cracking underneath my seemingly old feet as I find a bucket of water. I take a small sip, noticing the black markings on my old hands once more. What is happening to me? Why am I a hundred years old all of a sudden? Did I just skip a few eighty years or something? I mean, I wouldn't mind cause that means I won the Games, but...what happened since then?

I see the shape of a mirror in the room next to where I'm at. I don't know what I'll see when I look at it and a part of me is super-scared. I'm trying to swallow in fear, but I only taste the blood travelling upwards as I cough yet again and see blood on my hand. I get to the mirror. It's so full of dust that I have to try and use my old wretched hand to wipe it off. When it's useable, I open my eyes to see myself for the first time...and I want to shit my pants so bad!

Who is this woman looking back at me? She's doesn't look anything like me. She's looks old, mad, vicious...deadly. The hood covers half my face, but when I gently pull it away, I see the face of this old woman, thin white hair stretching down past my shoulders. There are parts of my face covered in these black spots similar to what I saw on those children and the one on my hand. I decide to touch it gently, but apparently there is no such thing as gentle because it explodes into a pool of blood. It drips down on the old drawer in front of the mirror before I see what looks like a parchment with scribbles on it.

"Eg så hun, Pesta, kledd i svart. Hun vandret med kosten stødig i sin hånd. Det var et varsel for hele bygden. Det var et varsel om død," I'm starting to wonder why that name sounds so familiar. 'A warning of death'...I am really pondering on those words as I barely look out the window to see a pair of siblings. The younger is asking his older brother about Pesta. I watch them as the older brother tells him about the legend of The Plague-Hag who spreads the plague around and kills the people who is near her. He spots me after a while and hurries with him his brother has he coughs through a handkerchief.

'A warning of death'. Oh my God! The plague, the 1300s, the woman in black with the broom, it all makes sense to me now – The Black Death. It killed half our population after a ship came ashore with rats infected by the plague. People made the plague into a character named Pesta, 'The Plague' – the old woman in black who walked from village to village with the plague, either carrying a broom (which meant all would die) or a rake (in which case meant only most would die). I'm it! I am the Plague-Hag! I spread the plague. I kill people...on top of that I am dying myself.

As I am about to sit back, I start coughing violently. It feels like my entire body is burning me up on the inside. The blood coming out of my mouth seems to be blood overheated. The black markings on my skin are literally just inches away from exploding. I manage to drag my weak, dying body out of the shed towards what was once a school playground, now a made-up graveyard. My old body is threatening to shut down I'm sensing. I don't even know what's supposed to happen after this, but I hope it's something 'better' than this because this has been a freak-show without compare.

The last few meters before I make it to the graveyard is exhausting. I almost quite literally have to drag myself the last few meters. The coughing of blood has gotten worse ever since the shed. I manage to force myself on my knees and the sight the meets me is that of sadness and death. One Christian cross after the other, hundreds of them spread out before my eyes. By all means, this is not supposed to be a history-lesson (I think), because I know my own country's history, but...you're never quite prepared to see it like this.

My breath is turning heavier for every second that passes. I am struggling for a single breath of air as I sense the coughing bring up a few liters of blood. At this point it's not coughing, but throwing up and I am about hyperventilate because I can't breathe! My eyesight is about to go dim. Everything I see is doubled up and panic is really starting to set in. I'm down on my four limbs, fighting just to stay alive a little while longer. The suffocating-tendencies are growing more intense as I try to-...I tr-...to br-...

I jolt up immediately taking the deepest breath in the history of human kind before I take to my throat. I almost tip the chair backwards when I realize that I am still in that house, by that messed up kitchen-table. Thank God! I run to find a mirror and find my young self, staring back. Just a dream...thank goodness it was just a dream...