Energy

Chapter 2 - Kiya

Daylight pierces through the spaces between the wooden planks that surround the small matt I lie on. The morning clatter of waggons and doors lifts the sleep from me.

 Aching I walk to the few buckets that sit, waiting, in the corner of the shack I can barely call a home. Time to get water and hopefully avoid my father for as long as possible before he goes to work in the fields. Grabbing 2 buckets I set off on the morning trek to prevent me and my father from dying of thirst though it's more likely we will die of disease first or maybe I might just find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time and have it end up costing me my life.

Pushing the flow of thoughts of how I might die from my head I focus on my footing on the uneven tracks leading to the river. My shoes, too big and barely holding together, carry me to the end of the river at last. Getting on my knees I plunge my head into the river revelling in the cool water washing over me. 

A daily cleanse I like to think of it as. Ridding me of those past nights haunting dreams or on most days, the blood that has dried beneath my nose. One of the many reminders gifted to me by my father of what a failure I am to him and how much hassle I cause him. But I never dwell on the images and sounds that cover my ears and eyes as I wash that blood away, though it's difficult after years of repeated experiences moving on and not thinking it over too much is the only way I can save myself.

Pulling away from the sweet relief of the river water that now clings to my thick dark hair, I grab the buckets from beside me, drag them through the water and replace them onto the bank. Palming both of the buckets handles I pull my mind back to the journey home and the other jobs I need to complete today. 

Sweeping, feeding the 3 cows we have left and finding food to cook. For my father and I. Coldness of the water starts to tingle on my arms but... my father I have to go back to him now, to give him some water before he returns to the fields. The cold sensation starts to reach my shoulders but the thoughts still ring through my head. blood, pain, screaming. I look down at my arms at the bruises that remain there but only to find water running over in their place. Not down from my wet hair but upfront the buckets still in my hands.

 My arms, shoulders and neck have water running over it like snakes, but not to constrict and choke me as the snakes on this land do but instead to calm and ground me. The buckets fall from my hands as the realisation sets in. How is this possible? Water can't run upwards, it's not alive. The water continues caressing my skin covering more of my skin by the minute. I should be scared, shouldn't I? But the water feels like it's a part of me. No, I have to get home before anyone sees me, if someone finds me I'll be punished.

 They'll think I'm a witch and I'll end up burned or hung. The water seems to flow faster and cooler in response to my thoughts, but I need to get it off of me. Shaking my arms I try to get the water off running my hands over my skin, to no avail as the water continues to snake around me. I can't stay here for much longer. I need to get home before anyone notices I've been gone for too long. I need to work out how to stop it if I am controlling it unconsciously somehow. 

It started because I was thinking about my father so maybe if I calm down and think about something else it will leave me alone. I start taking in deep breaths trying to control my breathing and my thoughts. Breath after breath the water starts to slow its fast current. After a minute or so the water begins to return to the buckets discarded on the floor. Relief is all that runs through me once I pick up the now full buckets of water and start my journey home.