Eden

51

"Thank you," I say to him.

He nods, as if to say that's fine, then asks, "What was it you wanted?"

"Um," I say, and open my mouth, but then don't seem to be able to speak. My mouth is dry. My breath seems to be gone. My heart is racing, too. I'm nervous, talking to this many people, and nervous about the consequences of interrupting, as well. Especially in a place like this, where I don't know anyone, and don't know the rules, and where they kill other people as casually as they seem to.

I'm suddenly stuck silent. I can't make any words. I just stand there, feeling stupid and saying nothing, as the silence goes on and on,

All around me are stranger's faces, and all of them are staring my way. Not all look hostile, but most look impatient. "Speak up," a few people call, and then a few more start to shout it too. It feels like it's going to become a chant, and that they're going to shout at me, and then laugh at me, and then completely ignore me, once I'm no longer funny. It feels like whatever I'm trying to do will be futile, except as another part of the day's entertainment, and that any chance I had of helping the tied-up woman is gone. I'm ashamed of myself. I've let her down. I don't know what to do.

I stand there, miserable, and feel myself starting to blush. I look at the speech-making man again, not really expecting him to help, but to my surprise he does.

He holds up his hand for silence, and then says to me, almost gently, "We can't all hear. You need to speak louder."

I nod, relieved. "I will," I whisper.

I'm going to have to make myself to talk. I don't want to, I really don't want to, I'm still as scared as I was, but someone's life is at stake here, and so I have to. It's really as simple as that.

I try to calm down. I try to make myself speak.

I try, but still nothing happens. I'm completely stuck. I'm about to give up on myself as useless beyond belief, but then, right then, someone touches my arm. I jump, and then look. It's the water-seller, who has been beside me all this time. She holds out the wooden cup to me, full of water. Water from the barrel that's still on my back.