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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1135456-Horrors-of-Daily-Life
by Adnan
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1135456
Andrew's adventure in his town full of fever victims.
“Horrors of Daily Life”


It was another blistering hot day. Life nowadays is literally torture. The streets are plagued with bodies of the fever victims. My mother abhors the vile stench of the decaying bodies. People kept coming into Cook’s Coffeehouse and business was going well.
“Andrew!”
It was my mother. Why must I always listen to her?
“Andrew, come on, I need some help here!”
“Coming mother!”
I always had to stay indoors as my mother never allowed me to exit the coffeehouse. She didn’t want me to smell the miasma that was believed to be killing everyone.
“Matilda, I’m going to the Market to buy some food,” she said frantically
“Alright mother, be careful,” I said
Thinking of mother going around in the Market was awful. What if she was harassed by scoundrels or hoodlums? Anyway, this was not my problem.
Grandfather came in with two army officials. They sat down and started talking about the disease.
“Balderdash!” boomed Grandfather, “Why would the disease start near the Waterfront!”
As Grandfather argued, I came to ask him he needed anything.
“No thank you, young man,” one official said.
Grandfather harrumphed, trying to get back to the subject.
After a few hours, I decided to pay a visit to the Ludingtons. As I crossed the north countryside, I heard sellers and vendors shouting out cheap prices.
“Repaired barrels and casks for only two dollars!” the cooper shouted.
“Hats and clothing for cheap prices!” the haberdasher roared.
As I was walking, an odiferous scent hit me. Bodies lay on the floor being devoured by stray dogs. What was happening? And then it suddenly struck me! The Fever! The eyes and faces of the corpses were yellow. The jaundiced people’s heave was exposed! What horror! It was black and it’s repulsive coffee smell nearly choked me. Only if I was brave enough to carry them to the apothecary. I would let the people out of their houses. I fled the scene immediately and towards 8th and Spruce Street. I was going to the Pennsylvania Hospital.
As I ran, more bodies entered the scene. They were covered in black blood and their skin was yellow. I saw one struggling to get up. He was covered in sweat and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked very tired, as if he had not slept in years. And the, he finally collapsed. I had heard their urine was very offensive. At last, I reached the hospital. I was completely out of breath. To my horror, I saw people barricading the entrance. The fever victims were not allowed in. They were being threatened at gunpoint. I saw a man hiding under a tree, and I decided to go to him.
To my surprise, this was the French doctor, Dr. Deveze. He detested the treatment methods of our American doctors, saying it was fatal. He was saying that the excretion of blood could kill a person in a few days. He said that the real treatment was by drinking a lot of fluids and resting a lot. He also said that soup would be a great help, and the patient would need fresh air, and must have light diets.
“That’s impossible!” I backfired, “Excreting blood gets rid of the pestilence!”
But I was wrong. He had a patient with him and he told me that the doctor helped save his life. I realized that our doctors’ treatments were lethal.
When I went home, Grandfather greeted me warmly.
“Well young man, where have you been today?”
“Lets say I had an adventure!”






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