Up Close and Personal Story
I awoke to the sound of village doctor entering the hut. He started to speak to grandma asking if her symptoms have gotten worse since his last visit. At this point grandma is so sick that the only sound that comes out of her mouth is a raspy wheeze, it brings me so much sorrow to see my own grandmother in such a weak state.
I walked out of the hut and towards to the drainage pipe, many people surrounded the it trying to collect much water as they could. Seeing it was too crowded I walked to the river and began to clearing the trash that blocked it, I used my jug to begin scooping in the water. Seeing the brown water made me sick to my stomach,
although I knew it was all we were capable of collecting. I walked back to the hut and set the jug down the in the corner of the hut. Grandma began vomiting again and the only thing I can offer to her was more dirty water. I figured the only thing to do was go to sleep, so I laid down and closed my eyes, I awoke to the sound of my mother crying,
I looked over at her and beside her was grandma. She passed in the night. I huge knot in my stomach became tight to tight running near the nearest entrance from the hut to the outside I threw up the little food we had for the morning being mostly made of the water with the ugly yellow tint, I tipped my head over to the ground of the hut grabbing my stomach in agony.
The water we lived off of many years always disgusted me but why couldn't we live better than just the leftovers from society. I then stood walking over to my mother falling into her arms she cradled me until the doctor can to check and decided to bury her in the later afternoon of the day. It was quick no saying other than reluctant crying over her being buried in the dirt that was never fertile.
After her burial I walked around the village to see the huts and beat up walls, I can see that the younger kids scrawny but slightly pale as they gulped sips of the water they got that the village people collected, I never noticed but never once did I see those kids smile. I see the elders stiff from moving around refrained from walking sue to their ill state they laid near their supposed decks were the children scurried around.
My mother was gone after the burial collecting even more of that water in gallons and tubs, her tears following into the jugs from her unable to hold back emotions this time. I went by where the fruit tress were at with the peaches becoming more ripe by the day, my grandmother used to take me down there to eat fruit during the afternoons, she used to talk about the times where she travelled and seen people who were the most fortunate
with their tidy clothes and prepared water and meals as they were filled with free spirited ambintion, she meet these so called researchers years before I was even born, she used to dream to go to the place they called home. It seems as though they had everything or at least the things that I wished for to have, and maybe the things I exactly needed.