Short Story (OZ) *Please Read!*

Hi! My name is Oswin (#80380). I love to write. At school, we were given a creative writing assignment. I am very proud of mine and decided to share it with all of you on EV! What was the assignment? I'm glad you asked. We were supposed to pick a story from the OT and make a fictional character, adding it to the story. PM me or comment below with any questions/comments. Constructional critique accepted! :D The limit was four pages.... I filled up all four pages to the max. xD


Inside Jericho
By Oswin
Jemima hurried to the well, a huge earthen jar balanced neatly on her light brown hair, her small arms reaching up for her hands to grasp the sides gently. The girl passed many street marketers, shouting their wares to the rich of Jericho. No poor person could buy a single item from most of the shops, their prices outrageously high.
The well was a hole in the ground, shining wet, silver rocks, smoothed over the years, lining the edge. Girl after girl, woman after woman dipped their jugs into the clear water. Jemima, finding an empty spot on the other side of the well’s ring, joined the other ladies by dipping her large jar in. The jug hit the water with a sucking sound, tilted upside down, and began to fill with fresh water. After the bubbles had stopped surfacing, Jemima grasped the jar’s rim and hauled it out of the cold water. Balancing the jar once more on her head, Jemima began the walk back home, a heavier weight balanced atop her.
Jemima had just left the sight of the well when something struck her from behind. The twelve-year-old fell forward, earthen jar falling into the dirt as she let go of it to catch herself. “Ha! The prostitute’s maid is where she belongs - in the dirt!” A sandal kicked a cloud of dust into Jemima’s face, sending her into a coughing fit.
Jemima, tears stinging her eyes but refusing to go for fear of more ridicule, grabbed up the jug to save any remaining water. But the small gang of boys around her snatched it from her hands and tipped the rest of the water onto the thirsty ground. It appeared as a wet spot a moment, but then dried up. The boys dropped the jar, and the frail pottery cracked as it collided hard with the earth. The lead boy lifted his sandalled foot and crushed the rest of the jar into pieces.
Jemima tried to stand up, but the boys pushed her back down. She kept her head down this time, not daring look or stand up. “What are you doing?” A soft but firm voice asked as a boy, around Jemima’s age, pushed his way into the center of the circle. Seeing Jemima on the ground, he spun to the other boys. “Is this how you treat fellow humans? Shoving them into the dirt?” The boy, with dust colored hair and amber eyes, stooped and picked up a handful of dust. Straightening, he asked, “Have you ever thought to treat others like you would like to be treated?” The boy smiled slightly. “So you like dust kicked into your face, shoved into the dirt, water spilled all over your tunic?”
The gang of boys stared dumbly back at the opposing boy, who suddenly lurched forward and threw the dust into the ring leader’s face. “You do? Good.” He pulled out a small, tiny gourd, shaped into a bottle of some sort with a piece of wood blocking the water from spilling. He pulled off the wood, then spun, the water spilling out and spinning too, landing on almost every boy in the gang. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this!”
With a loud cry, the gang leader raced away. Jemima thought for sure that she saw tears. The rest of the gang, weak and cowardly without their leader, ran off too. The boy who had stood up for Jemima gently lifted her back to her feet. “My name is Melchizedek, what is yours?”
“Jemima.” The girl smiled shyly, then looked at the ground. A piece of broken pottery caught her eye, and she gasped, choking back tears. “No, no, no.” She had heard them do it, but hadn’t really paid much heed to it, her knees scraped and back aching where the boy had kicked her down.
“It’s alright, I’ll buy you a new one.” Melchizedek smiled at her, then took a step away. “Come; we’ll buy one at the market. Was this yours?”
“No, it was my mistress’s,” Jemima’s words were laced with grief at the thought of her mistress’s best jar, smashed by a gang of boys! “Her best jar.”
“Who is your mistress?” They were nearing the markets now. The boy had hold of Jemima’s hand gently, to keep her from getting lost in the thick crowd.
“Rahab.”
“The -?” Melchizedek didn’t want to finish the statement. It hung, unfinished, in the air. Jemima tilted her head to look at the ground, not wanting to look at his face as she answered.
“Yes. But she is kind to accept a poor girl like me.”
“I believe you. It’s just…. I wish you could find a better place.”
“She is probably kinder than any other master or mistress in all of Jericho!”
Melchizedek chuckled. “We are here. Pick a jar, any of your choice. Price doesn’t matter.”
Jemima stared at all the beautiful pottery lining the marketer’s stand. A plain one with beautiful etchings of flowers and fruits caught Jemima’s eye. She pointed it out to Melchizedek, and he bought it. “Thank you,” Jemima said, dipping her head to hide her blush. “You are very kind.”
“Those boys had no right to do that to you. They are a troublesome bunch. I would know. Their leader is my brother.”
Jemima looked at him sharply, eyes wide. He smiled. “I will leave you here. It is only a short way to the well. I’ll see you some other time, Jemima.” And Melchizedek slipped away into the throng of people.
Jemima rapped lightly on the door before opening it and stepping in. Rahab, alone, smiled up at the girl. “You slept in?” the woman asked.
Jemima dipped her head. “Yes, Mistress. I am deeply sorry. I never will again.”
“Oh, Jemima! You need the extra sleep. Please, do this more often.”
“No, I will not. I can not go out at this hour to the well.”
“Why can’t - where did you get that jar?”
Jemima looked at the floor, tears brimming in her eyes. “I left late, so when I was heading back from the well, a gang of boys surrounded me. They spilled the water and smashed the jar.” A tear splashed onto the floor.
“Jemima, Jemima, sshh. It’s alright. Where did you get the jar?” Rahab’s voice was soft and compassionate.
“A boy named Melchizedek saved me from the other boys. He is the gang leader’s brother, apparently. He took me to the market and told me to pick any jar.”
“You didn’t ask for one of the more expensive ones?”
“I - I thought the bright colors hurt my eyes and may distract me when I’m carrying it. This simple one looks a lot nicer, too.”
Rahab smiled again, a chuckle escaping her parted lips. “I agree. Now let’s start our day.” And the two ladies worked on housework all through the morning, cleaning and tidying the small wall house. At noon, they rested and ate; Jemima and Rahab played a couple games and chatted. In the evening, they baked and prepared the house for Rahab’s customers. Then Rahab took a quick nap before the night would fall.
Rahab was still napping when Jemima hurried to bed. The first scheduled customer would wake her with a soft rap on the door. A plaque hung on the door frame, saying “Rahab” and listing the hours that others were to be there. There was an hour of “Inquiries” for those who wanted to inquire. Rahab told Jemima she had to be asleep before the first customer came. Jemima listened.
When Jemima woke the next morning, she found, like usual, Rahab fast asleep on her mat. Jemima grabbed the new jar and hurried out, determined to get the water before the boys woke.
The dawn had not yet come. It was very dark, with only a small tint of light in the dark sky. Very few people hurried about, mostly young girls heading to the well. Jemima was quick to get water and start heading back. Halfway there, someone ran into her and she fell. “Oh!” she gasped, this time holding tight the jar with all her might. It splashed all over her.
“Oh, I beg your pardon! I wasn’t looking.” A man in a dark hood, with a companion, helped Jemima back to her feet.
“It’s alright,” Jemima stuttered, trembling from the sudden cold of the freezing water and air colliding on her cloak. She was shivering terribly.
“Behold, men of Israel have come here tonight to search out the land!” Soldiers clattered into the street, shouting and waving the king’s seal. “Find them and turn them in for a large reward! Become rich!”
Jemima looked at the men, and noticed them fidgeting. They were trying to act like the others, peering in shadows for hiding men. Jemima smiled softly. “Spies? Come, my mistress might hide you.” They conversed in hushed tones for a moment.
The men shot her a grateful glance, and she led them to Rahab’s house. As agreed, Jemima pretended she had no idea the men were following her. She opened the door and walked in, and the men slipped in behind her. “Rahab! Have you heard the soldiers?”
“How could I not? They are shouting all over the place! Why?”
Jemima blushed and motioned to the two men. Rahab’s hand went to her mouth in a gasp. “I thought maybe we could hide them. We accidentally collided - I spilled the water all over my cloak - and then the soldiers came. If you do not want to stay, they have agreed to go elsewhere. And you may report you saw them, too, they said.” The men nodded in agreement.
Rahab sighed, then smiled. “I will hide you.” The men smiled back; Jemima was beaming.


“Open up!” A rough fist pounded the door. “Rahab the prostitute, open this door!” Rahab hurried and unlatched it. “Bring out the men who have come to you, who entered your house, for they have come to search out all the land.”
“True, the men came to me, but I did not know where they were from. And when the gate was about to be closed at dark, the men went out. I do not know where the men went. Pursue them quickly, for you will overtake them,” Rahab replied with a dip of her dark head. The soldiers nodded and hurried out to try to overtake the spies.
Rahab climbed onto the roof and lifted the stalks of flax from the men’s bodies. “I know that the Lord has given you the land, and that the fear of you has fallen upon us, and that all the inhabitants of the land melt away before you. For we have heard how the Lord dried up the water of the Red Sea before you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to the two kings of the Amorites who were beyond the Jordan, to Sihon and Og, whom you devoted to destruction. And as soon as we heard it, our hearts melted, and there was no spirit left in any man because of you, for the Lord your God, he is God in the heavens above and on the earth beneath. Now then, please swear to me by the Lord that, as I have dealt kindly with you, you also will deal kindly with my father's house, and give me a sure sign that you will save alive my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and deliver our lives from death.”
The two spies looked at each other, then conversed quietly. Turning back to Rahab, they replied to her request, “Our life for yours even to death! If you do not tell this business of ours, then when the Lord gives us the land we will deal kindly and faithfully with you.”
Then, Rahab lowered the two men down the wall, of which her house was part of, by a red cord. After they had climbed out of Jericho, she called down to them, “Go into the hills, or the pursuers will encounter you, and hide there three days until the pursuers have returned. Then afterward you may go your way.”
Cupping their hands around their mouths, the men projected their voices up the wall to where Rahab leaned out of the window. “We will be guiltless with respect to this oath of yours that you have made us swear. Behold, when we come into the land, you shall tie this scarlet cord in the window through which you let us down, and you shall gather into your house your father and mother, your brothers, and all your father's household.Then if anyone goes out of the doors of your house into the street, his blood shall be on his own head, and we shall be guiltless. But if a hand is laid on anyone who is with you in the house, his blood shall be on our head. But if you tell this business of ours, then we shall be guiltless with respect to your oath that you have made us swear.”
“It shall be as you say,” Rahab replied to them. It was a wonder no one in Jericho had heard their conversation. Rahab tightly tied the red rope into the window, then her and Jemima departed into the inner realms of the house.
Epilogue
Israelite men streamed into the breached Jericho walls, which lay in rubble on the ground. yet Rahab’s house stood. Her family huddled in her main room, Jemima and the maids and servants of Rahab’s relatives baking for their mistresses and masters.
“Where is Gilead?” Rahab asked looking around the room. The man was nowhere to be found. Rahab’s uncle, Gilead, had not heeded her warning. He would be slaughtered later that day.
“Your bread is the best of all of these bakers,” Melchizedek said with a smile to Jemima. The girl blushed. She had requested for the boy to be saved, and Rahab permitted Jemima to warn him. Melchizedek had accepted and believed Jemima, but his family had not.
Five Years Later
Jemima, a beautiful young woman now, pulled the warm bread from the fire’s heat. Melchizedek came up behind her and hugged his new bride. Israel. The people were godly, their God the true God. Jemima felt honored to become an accepted part of God’s chosen people. Honored to be Melchizedek’s bride. Life was good; God was good. God was the best of all.

(Jemima means little dove; Melchizedek means king of justice... This parenthesis is not on my page xD)

Thank you! I know it's quite a bit, but it was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!

Last edited on 2016-02-19 at 19:37:44 by Oswin

This was amazing I would love to read anything else you write if you put it up :)

Thank you! There were paragraphs and all but don't know how to do that on EV, haha. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

This was so good! I was completely caught up in the story.

I really, really liked this! Seriously, it's phenomenal in terms of subject matter, word usage, and how brutally honest it is.

Some tips I have are you should work on setting description. It's obvious where they are, and it's easy to identify what the general place looks like, but instead of "rubble" of a house, describe the wreckage and the cracked, broken stone of walls that once contained warmth, the dirt coating the surfaces of abandoned market stalls and staircases and fogging up the horizon, scattered pots and scraps of cloth lost in the chaos. You want to use your words to paint a picture on a blank page, not simply tell a story from afar.

You're awesome at dialogue, I actually had a different voice for every character as I read! That's definitely a strong suit of yours and I think you should keep writing around that rather than relying on descriptions too too much in the end, but supplementing what you have with some extra stuff like I said above would make a world of difference. But you use the same words very often in some spots, and i noticed it's because many of your sentences are very short and split into tiny pieces (or they're full sentences made of smaller sentences xD) when they could easily be combined and have extra little nice words added to beef it up.

"The two spies looked at each other, then conversed quietly. Turning back to Rahab, they replied to her request," = The two spies faced each other to converse for a few moments in hushed tones, but soon turned back to Rahab and replied to her request;

"The jug hit the water with a sucking sound, tilted upside down, and began to fill with fresh water. After the bubbles had stopped surfacing, Jemima grasped the jar’s rim and hauled it out of the cold water." = The jug hit the surface of the pool with a sucking sound and tipped with the weight of the liquid flowing into it, and once the bubbles stopped rising, Jemima hauled it back out by the rim and carefully poured off enough to carry the fresh water easily.

Also work on how you start paragraphs. I see a lot of "The", "Rahab", simple things. My favorite one is "Israelite men streamed into the breached Jericho walls": that REALLY grabs your attention away from the rest of it and lets you know what's going on.

Overall, it's wonderful! And if you have an interest in this sort of time period and topic, I recommend the book The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. It's aimed for older audiences and has a lot of strong topics and words, but it's beautiful and your story took me to where I went with that book.

Last edited on 2016-02-27 at 20:19:38 by Zell™

WOW! It's amazing! I love it!

Thank you everyone!

@Rhaspody - Thank you!

@Zell - I really try to be descriptive but was limited to four pages as this was a school assignment. xD Thank you so much for the tips and compliments.

@#Anna - Thanks!

Great job Oswin!