srmikman
01-19-2013, 11:27 PM
I appreciate any feedback. I have read multiple short stories on this forum and highly respect the comments made by the posters here. Thanks once again!
Three Things Never to Do
There were three things my wife told me never to do before I departed into town. One was to avoid anyone who had a persistent cough or looked weak from sickness. Another was to only purchase bread and nothing else. The purpose of this trip was solely to bring food back to my family. I knew they desperately needed it when I looked at my two daughters’ thinning arms. Last, I was not to steal anything, no matter what opportunity arose.
The first thing was easy enough to follow. Despite the fact that many people seemed to cough consistently in an uncontrollable manner, they were mostly present only in the poorer parts of town. Many were located between tall buildings in tight allies that had been made into homes. As I walked to the marketplace, one man slowly limped out of an alley and approached me putting up his hands. I instinctively reached down to my side as if to grasp the handle of a sword, but quickly remembered that none was present. There were others also present in the alley, but my own poor appearance of stained clothes and dirty skin likely convinced them I had little to offer, a correct assumption. The man staggering towards me resembled an old skeleton, dressed in ragged clothing and reeking of sewage. He continued to cup his hands towards me, desperate for anything I could offer.
“Please….. Help me… Anything… I’ll do anything….” he pleaded.
I looked down at his wrist and noticed a scar that looked like it had been created by a hot brand. It was of a “T”, a mark of condemnation. It meant that he was labeled as a traitor to the King for what could be any crime. Those who held its marking were usually refused work and shunned by many civilians, especially those loyal to the King.
Hanging on my shoulder was a piece of old cloth to wrap around my shoulders in case I got cold. I took it off, and offered it to the man, smiling to offer him some sense of comfort. It was the best I could do.
A hint of a smile began to form on his face. “Thank you….. Thank you….” he whimpered, until he glanced at my wrist. Just like his, mine too was also marked with a “T”.
“I can’t take this….. Not from you…” he said sadly, his voice giving off a sense of pity. “You must be suffering, just like I am.”
"Please take it. You need it more than I do. Besides,” I winked, “I like to think of us as comrades.”
I saw the man grin as I continued walking towards the marketplace. My mind began to drift as thought back to the day I had received my mark. That day I had been wearing torso armor colored with streaks of purple, distinguishing me as the head of a company of soldiers. I was assigned to lead guards escorting a senator of high prestige across the town. As we proceeded to walk through a crowd, one of the guards clumsily tripped and nudged the senator’s shoulder, nearly causing him to fall over as well. The senator’s eyes filled with fury. Because I was the head of the group, he turned to me and demanded to execute the man on the spot for what he had considered was an inexcusable injustice. This was how we were ruled: by fear. I knew the guard, a good young man whose face still lacked facial hair. Despite my duty to obey all commands, I refused to carry out the order. A look of shock had spread on the senator’s face. Rather than yell at me, he stalked away seething in anger. Late that day, I was seized by soldiers being led by my superior and held down. My wrist was branded for refusing commands and my status as a soldier stripped from me. I never knew what had happened to the other guard. I secretly hoped he had managed to evade punishment by fleeing from town.
I began walking through throngs of busy people in the town’s marketplace. I had saved a couple copper coins in my pocket for the purchase of the bread and refused to let my eyes gaze on the heaps of smoking lamb or roasting pork. My nose betrayed me as it took in the scent of the succulent juicy meat cooking along the streets, causing my body to tremble as it endured my stomach’s long growl. It had been months since I last purchased a hot meal.
I attempted to distract myself by searching intently for a baker, looking for cakes, bread, or other pastries on the tables holding varieties of food. Finally, I found one; a man dressed in bright yellow cloth holding a loaf of bread in his hand stood behind a table with a wide grin on his face as he shouted the prices of his goods to people passing by. I walked up to him and meagerly offered the copper coins in my hand, nodding towards the bread the baker held. The man’s grin quickly disappeared as he scoffed at my offer. He began mumbling to himself about whether he could find a suitable piece of bread as he reached underneath the table. Once his hand had risen, I was presented with a stale, moldy loaf of bread that had clearly been baked long ago. I stared at it, at first not comprehending that this was his offer. I knew my coins were worth more, and I had nothing extra to give. The little possessed I had had been carefully rationed. Handing over any more would endanger my survival.
“That will not do. I want that other piece of bread you were just holding in your hand.”
He mockingly laughed “For those two coins? Ridiculous. I hardly think you deserve even this!”
I realized I had made a mistake. He had seen my wrist as I had offered the coins and knew I had committed an offense. I wouldn’t usually beg, but this was too important to let any remaining pride I had get in the way.
“Please, I need something better than that. You must have other bread that looks better.”
This time he didn’t even laugh, but glared as he talked in a scathing voice. “Not for the likes of you, not for scum.”
I stared at him with a blank expression and clenched my trembling fists. Hot rage slowly began to develop in my chest, pulsing through my veins and spreading throughout my body. How lucky he was that I didn’t have my dagger! My wife currently possessed it back at our home in case she was threatened in my absence.
The man behind the table ignored me once another customer approached, leaving the better piece of bread still in front of me. I was about to break the final rule my wife had given me; I knew my family needed me to. However, since I had already been branded a traitor, a second offense would be the punishment of death. An image of my hungry family quickly flickered in my mind. Yes, this must be done. At the very least, I was confident that I would be able to make it away since I had retained my shape from my soldiering days.
The baker’s head turned away from me. Immediately, I snatched the bread and broke into a run, slipping through the crowd around me. It was only a few heartbeats later that I heard what I dreaded most.
“Thief!” the baker’s voice screamed. “That man is a thief and a traitor! Catch him!”
I hoped to run deeper into the throng of people to avoid being spotted. It was too late. A soldier standing across the baker’s table had witnessed my act and held a whistle to his lips, creating a high pitched noise. He was now running too as other guards gathered in the streets. The crowd was not dense enough to conceal me; the soldiers were also easily able to spot me as I sprinted down the streets. It was fortunate that the market place was near the edge of town. The woods outside of it would allow me to hide myself among the trees.
My stamina was still strong and allowed me to continue my sprint until I was finally near the woods. My frantic beating heart finally began to calm as I ran past the brush. My pursuers had not gained on me but instead seemed to have purposely slowed farther behind. As I stopped to catch my breath, I glanced back and quickly understood why: Four horsemen with drawn swords were now galloping in my direction. My only hope was that the woods would slow their advance.
I resumed my sprint deeper into the woods. The further I ran, the denser the trees became. I never bothered to look back, instead focusing on controlling my breathing to lessen my fatigue. It wasn’t until the sun had noticeably dropped that I slowed my pace. The day was growing dark and I would have to head back to home soon. Thankfully, I knew these woods well from my memories as a child exploring them and understood where to go. The trees didn't extend much farther. Houses began appearing in the distance.
I looked past one house and suddenly wished I hadn't. Staked in the ground were five wooden crosses. Each cross had a limp body nailed to it. There was a mid-aged man, not far off from my own, and a woman next to him. The others were three small bodies; children. Their bodies hadn't been there too long, indicating that the crime had been committed was not long ago. I knew the man; he had committed an offense similar, except he had stolen some fruit. I now knew that he had committed another offense, but I was unlikely to ever know this one. The punishment had been death, to both him and his family. This tactic was used by the local soldiers to scare us from committing any crimes. It was tragic, and a sole reminder of the troubling days we lived in.
Without staring further, I continued to walk along the houses, finally seeing mine in the distance. Outside, two little girls ran outside in circles, appearing to be playing some sort of made-up game they had created. My heart lifted in joy and I smiled as I recognized my daughters. The bread was still in my hand. I would be able to provide proper food for them tonight.
A woman walked outside the house and peered at me. Her blonde shining hair made her instantly recognizable. My wife began to walk towards me as I approached, a beautiful smile on her face. I had nearly gotten in arm’s length when I heard movement behind me. Horsemen…. They had made it through the woods and were now galloping towards me with their swords still grasped.
My wife saw them, her smile instantly transforming into a look of terror. She stared at me searching for any clues of an offense I had done. I looked sadly at the bread in my hand, and she instantly knew. It was too late for me to run now… There was nowhere else to go. I looked towards my daughters, my beautiful daughters, not even paying mind to the horsemen approaching. There was only one thing to do. At my wife’s waist was a belt with the knife I had given her on it. I snatched it in my hand, put her hands on the hilt, and pointed it towards my stomach. I mouthed three words: I love you.
With that, I thrust the knife towards me, the pain sharp. I could hear the horsemen very close and knew they had witnessed the act. My wife cried pitifully, moaning as she still held the knife. I fell on the ground, feeling the warmth leaving but desperately trying to stay conscious to hear one last thing. Thankfully, she knew what to say.
“I caught him….” She pitifully moaned. “I killed the thief!” I heard as darkness slowly took me.
Three Things Never to Do
There were three things my wife told me never to do before I departed into town. One was to avoid anyone who had a persistent cough or looked weak from sickness. Another was to only purchase bread and nothing else. The purpose of this trip was solely to bring food back to my family. I knew they desperately needed it when I looked at my two daughters’ thinning arms. Last, I was not to steal anything, no matter what opportunity arose.
The first thing was easy enough to follow. Despite the fact that many people seemed to cough consistently in an uncontrollable manner, they were mostly present only in the poorer parts of town. Many were located between tall buildings in tight allies that had been made into homes. As I walked to the marketplace, one man slowly limped out of an alley and approached me putting up his hands. I instinctively reached down to my side as if to grasp the handle of a sword, but quickly remembered that none was present. There were others also present in the alley, but my own poor appearance of stained clothes and dirty skin likely convinced them I had little to offer, a correct assumption. The man staggering towards me resembled an old skeleton, dressed in ragged clothing and reeking of sewage. He continued to cup his hands towards me, desperate for anything I could offer.
“Please….. Help me… Anything… I’ll do anything….” he pleaded.
I looked down at his wrist and noticed a scar that looked like it had been created by a hot brand. It was of a “T”, a mark of condemnation. It meant that he was labeled as a traitor to the King for what could be any crime. Those who held its marking were usually refused work and shunned by many civilians, especially those loyal to the King.
Hanging on my shoulder was a piece of old cloth to wrap around my shoulders in case I got cold. I took it off, and offered it to the man, smiling to offer him some sense of comfort. It was the best I could do.
A hint of a smile began to form on his face. “Thank you….. Thank you….” he whimpered, until he glanced at my wrist. Just like his, mine too was also marked with a “T”.
“I can’t take this….. Not from you…” he said sadly, his voice giving off a sense of pity. “You must be suffering, just like I am.”
"Please take it. You need it more than I do. Besides,” I winked, “I like to think of us as comrades.”
I saw the man grin as I continued walking towards the marketplace. My mind began to drift as thought back to the day I had received my mark. That day I had been wearing torso armor colored with streaks of purple, distinguishing me as the head of a company of soldiers. I was assigned to lead guards escorting a senator of high prestige across the town. As we proceeded to walk through a crowd, one of the guards clumsily tripped and nudged the senator’s shoulder, nearly causing him to fall over as well. The senator’s eyes filled with fury. Because I was the head of the group, he turned to me and demanded to execute the man on the spot for what he had considered was an inexcusable injustice. This was how we were ruled: by fear. I knew the guard, a good young man whose face still lacked facial hair. Despite my duty to obey all commands, I refused to carry out the order. A look of shock had spread on the senator’s face. Rather than yell at me, he stalked away seething in anger. Late that day, I was seized by soldiers being led by my superior and held down. My wrist was branded for refusing commands and my status as a soldier stripped from me. I never knew what had happened to the other guard. I secretly hoped he had managed to evade punishment by fleeing from town.
I began walking through throngs of busy people in the town’s marketplace. I had saved a couple copper coins in my pocket for the purchase of the bread and refused to let my eyes gaze on the heaps of smoking lamb or roasting pork. My nose betrayed me as it took in the scent of the succulent juicy meat cooking along the streets, causing my body to tremble as it endured my stomach’s long growl. It had been months since I last purchased a hot meal.
I attempted to distract myself by searching intently for a baker, looking for cakes, bread, or other pastries on the tables holding varieties of food. Finally, I found one; a man dressed in bright yellow cloth holding a loaf of bread in his hand stood behind a table with a wide grin on his face as he shouted the prices of his goods to people passing by. I walked up to him and meagerly offered the copper coins in my hand, nodding towards the bread the baker held. The man’s grin quickly disappeared as he scoffed at my offer. He began mumbling to himself about whether he could find a suitable piece of bread as he reached underneath the table. Once his hand had risen, I was presented with a stale, moldy loaf of bread that had clearly been baked long ago. I stared at it, at first not comprehending that this was his offer. I knew my coins were worth more, and I had nothing extra to give. The little possessed I had had been carefully rationed. Handing over any more would endanger my survival.
“That will not do. I want that other piece of bread you were just holding in your hand.”
He mockingly laughed “For those two coins? Ridiculous. I hardly think you deserve even this!”
I realized I had made a mistake. He had seen my wrist as I had offered the coins and knew I had committed an offense. I wouldn’t usually beg, but this was too important to let any remaining pride I had get in the way.
“Please, I need something better than that. You must have other bread that looks better.”
This time he didn’t even laugh, but glared as he talked in a scathing voice. “Not for the likes of you, not for scum.”
I stared at him with a blank expression and clenched my trembling fists. Hot rage slowly began to develop in my chest, pulsing through my veins and spreading throughout my body. How lucky he was that I didn’t have my dagger! My wife currently possessed it back at our home in case she was threatened in my absence.
The man behind the table ignored me once another customer approached, leaving the better piece of bread still in front of me. I was about to break the final rule my wife had given me; I knew my family needed me to. However, since I had already been branded a traitor, a second offense would be the punishment of death. An image of my hungry family quickly flickered in my mind. Yes, this must be done. At the very least, I was confident that I would be able to make it away since I had retained my shape from my soldiering days.
The baker’s head turned away from me. Immediately, I snatched the bread and broke into a run, slipping through the crowd around me. It was only a few heartbeats later that I heard what I dreaded most.
“Thief!” the baker’s voice screamed. “That man is a thief and a traitor! Catch him!”
I hoped to run deeper into the throng of people to avoid being spotted. It was too late. A soldier standing across the baker’s table had witnessed my act and held a whistle to his lips, creating a high pitched noise. He was now running too as other guards gathered in the streets. The crowd was not dense enough to conceal me; the soldiers were also easily able to spot me as I sprinted down the streets. It was fortunate that the market place was near the edge of town. The woods outside of it would allow me to hide myself among the trees.
My stamina was still strong and allowed me to continue my sprint until I was finally near the woods. My frantic beating heart finally began to calm as I ran past the brush. My pursuers had not gained on me but instead seemed to have purposely slowed farther behind. As I stopped to catch my breath, I glanced back and quickly understood why: Four horsemen with drawn swords were now galloping in my direction. My only hope was that the woods would slow their advance.
I resumed my sprint deeper into the woods. The further I ran, the denser the trees became. I never bothered to look back, instead focusing on controlling my breathing to lessen my fatigue. It wasn’t until the sun had noticeably dropped that I slowed my pace. The day was growing dark and I would have to head back to home soon. Thankfully, I knew these woods well from my memories as a child exploring them and understood where to go. The trees didn't extend much farther. Houses began appearing in the distance.
I looked past one house and suddenly wished I hadn't. Staked in the ground were five wooden crosses. Each cross had a limp body nailed to it. There was a mid-aged man, not far off from my own, and a woman next to him. The others were three small bodies; children. Their bodies hadn't been there too long, indicating that the crime had been committed was not long ago. I knew the man; he had committed an offense similar, except he had stolen some fruit. I now knew that he had committed another offense, but I was unlikely to ever know this one. The punishment had been death, to both him and his family. This tactic was used by the local soldiers to scare us from committing any crimes. It was tragic, and a sole reminder of the troubling days we lived in.
Without staring further, I continued to walk along the houses, finally seeing mine in the distance. Outside, two little girls ran outside in circles, appearing to be playing some sort of made-up game they had created. My heart lifted in joy and I smiled as I recognized my daughters. The bread was still in my hand. I would be able to provide proper food for them tonight.
A woman walked outside the house and peered at me. Her blonde shining hair made her instantly recognizable. My wife began to walk towards me as I approached, a beautiful smile on her face. I had nearly gotten in arm’s length when I heard movement behind me. Horsemen…. They had made it through the woods and were now galloping towards me with their swords still grasped.
My wife saw them, her smile instantly transforming into a look of terror. She stared at me searching for any clues of an offense I had done. I looked sadly at the bread in my hand, and she instantly knew. It was too late for me to run now… There was nowhere else to go. I looked towards my daughters, my beautiful daughters, not even paying mind to the horsemen approaching. There was only one thing to do. At my wife’s waist was a belt with the knife I had given her on it. I snatched it in my hand, put her hands on the hilt, and pointed it towards my stomach. I mouthed three words: I love you.
With that, I thrust the knife towards me, the pain sharp. I could hear the horsemen very close and knew they had witnessed the act. My wife cried pitifully, moaning as she still held the knife. I fell on the ground, feeling the warmth leaving but desperately trying to stay conscious to hear one last thing. Thankfully, she knew what to say.
“I caught him….” She pitifully moaned. “I killed the thief!” I heard as darkness slowly took me.