Fatima Saavedra

Lit 395 Catastrophes and Disasters

Homework #4 Reflection on the Journal of the Plague Year

Dear Diary,
The plague year had been horrendous. The plague had attacked so many. Most of my
family had perished because of this devastating plague. There were many people who had
been left without homes or belongings. Its sad to think about how much the plague had
affected our lives. We had seen so many devastating things that were impossible to forget.
These sickly people had been roaming the streets. Screams of pain always seemed to echo in
the night. Its crazy to think that there was once normality to this city. So much deathI cant
stop picturing those poor souls waiting to be picked up by those death carts.
Do they have any family left that will mourn them? Will they be remembered? Are they
to be forgotten? How are the authorities keeping track of all the dead? Will everyone be
accounted for? Its sad to think that many of these people wont be remembered because most
of their relatives have perished. The poor have been especially unlucky in this matter.
My family and I were shut in in our house. My little brother had gotten sick from the
plague, and we were all condemned to be in our house. I understood their disposition, but it
was horrible to be locked into our own home. We couldnt go out for anything. I remember my
dads anger. I remember my moms weeping cries. Our family consisted of my parents, my
brother and I, and one servant that went out to fetch our groceries. We were not rich, so when
we started hearing about the plague we didnt have the resources to leave town. I remember
my dad saying how it was all in Gods hands now.

Fatima Saavedra
Lit 395 Catastrophes and Disasters

My brother was the one who got sick first. He spent his days in bed weeping and
screaming. I will forever remember his howling cries. He lasted about two weeks before he
perished. By that time, my mother had gotten the plague as well. Since she had been doting on
my brother, she was bound to be infected by the disease. My mother and father refused to
announce my brothers death to the watchers. They didnt want him to be buried with all the
other sickly. They wanted him to be remembered. They wanted him to have his own grave.
Eventually our servant told the watchmen that my brother had passed on. My parents had no
other choice but to allow them to take him.
My mother was devastated. She had gone mad. My brothers death had hit her terribly
hard. She spent most of her days curled up in his room-bawling her eyes out. Her pain
reverberated throughout the whole house. My dad always the good husband had tried to calm
her, but she couldnt be comforted. One day, she attacked our servant-accusing her of my
brothers death. She lashed out at her screaming and wailing. My mother had definitely lost her
mind. We got her to let go of the servant, but not before she had left many bruises and
scratches on the woman. Life seemed to leave her after that attack. The plague didnt take my
mother, but her sorrow and confusion caused her to take her own life. She hanged herself in
my brothers room.
My dad completely changed after that incident. He refused to eat. He refused to move.
He had this empty look in his eyes that I will forever remember. The servant died after a couple
of months. We really didnt pay much notice to her. My father and I blamed her for my
mothers death. Ihad time to reflect on this after we were let out from our home. I couldnt

Fatima Saavedra
Lit 395 Catastrophes and Disasters

believe my rashness at this incident. The servant had been someone too. She probably had a
family out there that would miss her. WeI couldve helped her. She hadnt been affected by
the plague-not that I could see. She didnt have those black boils on her body. I will always
wonder if she condemned herself like my mother had.
In the end only my father and I survived the plague, but I was the only one that had
remained whole. My dad had become an empty shell of his former self. He was thin and
wrinkled. He looked like a skeleton awaiting his death. Eventually his death did come, but it
wasnt from the plague. My father died of starvation. I couldnt bear to look at him for his last
few days. He wasnt the doting husband or the loving father that I had come to cherish. After
my familys death I was left by myself in London. Eventually one of my Uncles (from my fathers
side) came looking for his brother. I had to tell him the bad news. I had become so
unemotionally attached that recounting the tale had been like telling him someone elses story.
My uncle took me in, and he got me help.
I have been seeing a doctor. He recommended that I keep a diary, and write everything
that I remembered about the plague down. Its been a lot of help. Its been helping me
remember and come to see that everyone was a bit crazy. Its understandable what happened
to my family, but I must learn to mourn correctly. I cant just shut down my thoughts and
feelings. I need to learn to feel and understand. Alas I cant do this all at once, but I can say that
life has definitely gotten much brighter since the plague. I will always remember the
devastation that it brought, but I also know that it is important to let go of the past.