The Cloister

Prosím o odpuštění nedostatků v jazyce. Tato povídka měla být napsána ve stylu autora jménem Edgar Allan Poe.

The Cloister

I have always wanted to see the village once more and my tour probably will be near the town. I think that it is possible to go near the village. I want to see what was changed after the bad situation, what was there. Now I am sure that the events, what was happen there are away, but I still don´t understand why. I never forget about unlogical things which I sew there. In the end I see the bygone place. It isn´t the town by that time. There are several old bouldings, any begone gardens, any fields, some ugly road – nobody take care of it and a lot of remains of the cloister. The Cloister. The Cloister. Everything, what was happen was connected with the Cloister.
I was a small child from the poor family and I lived almost next to the huge Cloister. The Cloister was compound from four parts. The first part was used for education. There was the school – I studied here, the nursery and the dormitory for childern without parents. The second part was built for the charity, the third part created the church, people visited every Sunday for prayers and the fourth part served as the dormitory, or as the house for church.
I met one girl during my studying. Later we were best friends, we do all together. When we both were twelve years old, I sew she wasn´t OK. She hadn´t got time for our hobbies, for our games, also for studying… As soon as I inquire Claire – she named Claire, “what was matter to you“ she said only “nothing“. I didn´t understand her. She wan´t normal one whole quarter year. I started to search why was my class-mate so peculiar.
There was the bad, cold, winter time. Once I went to her room and I sew her. She was praying. I never sew her by prayers, because she never believed. I asked her what did she do, but she didn´t reply. After one hour she said me that she didn´t know I´m here. She said she started to believe. I was shocked. Her parents wasn´t christianist. The weather didn´t change and I even thought that it was badder. Claire became to theclass, where she studied the religion. It was rainy days. It was May and we didn´t see the Sun for six months. Nobody knew why. Once I spoke with one nun, she told me that Claire was ill. I run to her room, I had to see her. She was so pallid and very thin. Than I stared on her room – in every wall was any cross, some rosary, or some picture of Jesus, virgin Maria, or some holy man. I asked her on her feeling and she replied she couldn´t pray, she hadn´t got a power to pray. Than she slept.
I was unhappy because of her condition, but no long time. Everybody in the Cloister was surprised. It stopped raining. We didn´t remamber so nice day. I went into Clair´s room. She pleased me for halp, that she needed to go to pray before the big crucifix on the opposite wall. I didn´t understand why, but I halped her. She sank on her knees and she started to pray. I went out. It started raining and there was a very big, strong wind. Next day the nun berated to me, she found Claire on the floor and she was unconscious. She told me that I had to go to her room yet. I was furious, because the weather was very nice and I want to go out, but I went. There were waiting five nuns, the head of the Cloister and even also the village magistrate. The nun started to speak about the magical power from the Cloister, which Claire use for speaking with God, or, as Claire said for speaking with the Lord of the Heaven. Because of it was the weather as bad as was. The village magistrate said, that some people´s doctor think she is the child of the Hell. I was afraid. People´s doctor said “she must die“. I cried. Than I run for Claire and I sew somethink ghastly. Claire stood in the window and spoke with the Lord of Heaven. She was completely obsessed. I didn´t know what I have to do. I knew, that she didn´t know about me.
While I stared Claire I took notice of the fire. Fire was almost here. I run to find some nun, or some teacher. Nobady was here. I went again and I so Claire. She jumped. She jumped to the fire. She died. I run to other window. There was the river below the window. I jumped.
Now I´m alive, but I never forget on this experience. The Cloister doesn´t exist and instead of one field is the cemetary full of graves. On one gravestone is my name – died on the plague pestilence.

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