The disease came like the wind and spread like wildfire with our chief elder being the first one to contract the disease. Our village scientist, self-trained and experimented only with herbs, concluded after much research that the disease came from our cattle while our priest concluded that it was God’s way to tell us our time is up. I didn’t know who or what to believe because as far I was concerned, I’m not the least bit sick.
With his dying breath, my father said, “Take your sister and go, son.” I shook my head and grabbed his hand, “No, I’m not leaving you,” but still he urged me to go and now, on the stone step, my sister is in my arm, her eyes closed and chest still. Tears fall from my eyes as I clench my fist beneath my sister’s body, I feel furious. why would the world do such a torturous thing?
I am taking part in a Six Sentence Story Challenge. The prompt is “con’tract or contract”.
By the way, this is a follow-up to last week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfaw)’s story, Going Home. I thought it was the perfect way to continue the story.
Image Credit: Google Image