There was water crisis in every apartment. Everyone of my neighbors was half-bending over their balcony to see what others are doing and getting their daily tasks done somehow, bringing water from a hand-pump located at a distance of around 2 km.
I also needed water. My clothes were soaking in detergent; dishes unwashed; refrigerator stinking due to absence of electricity; house unclean. Everything was a mess, in complete chaos… inside as well as outside.
I was parched but I couldn’t even think of going to bring water, not because of the distance but because I was locked in my own house.
I was eight month pregnant and being living this house arrest I forget since when…it’s been so long. The only thing that never happened before today was the kind of water crisis that hit everyone. My captor never had to come to such a situation.
Suddenly, I decided that enough is enough. Living like captive and doing nothing, not even complaining to myself, has taken a toll on my thoughts. It took a lot of effort on my part to remember that I was a free thinking girl, that time seemed to happen eons ago.
And I did what I didn’t consider even few moments ago. I jumped. I jumped to the ground floor flat, despite my eight-month pregnancy, hoping I would find some kind of rescue and may be some water to begin with.
I landed softly, without hurting myself. The rustle was there, to fill up every bucket available in the house to be prepared for the water-crisis which nobody knew how and why attacked us. I seemed invisible to everyone of them, only that those people were no stranger to me but my long forgotten family.
I lived with my family without their knowledge of me, or was it just me who didn’t know about the facts. Even thinking hard didn’t help me: why was I here and how did I came to be in that flat.
Puzzled by the buzzing questions, I found myself out of the flat and of the building.
And suddenly I was out of the dream as well!