Tragedy of the African Cinderella [Black Book3]✔

2.

Nora was all set for the night routine; with her bucket in hand, she exited home to the public tap.
Now, the water she had fetched the previous day had magically vacated the 200-liter rubber drum she had managed to fill to the brim, how that happened? She couldn't tell. Yet, something at the back of her mind told her, or rather, pictured out just how the water had been used.

With the existence of a malicious stepmother and daughters in her life, she had to expect worst; utilizing water unnecessarily and, or doing things which will result in her using water more than necessary, was their daily aim.

The vicinity of the tap came to view, but unlike other days, it looked different: it was dried out of littering humans. The time the clock displayed to her before leaving home was past eight, which was the conventional time to see a crowd decorating the tap's surroundings.
Nora took it upon herself to walk closer to it than she already was. Her mind whispered to her some words she didn't want to heed. She wanted it to be wrong, instead, her action was proved wrong when she twisted the faucet several times to see nothing oozing out of it. She scrunched her face and let her eyes wander in frustration, looking for a convenient spot to wait.

"Oh dear," she heard a passer-by say. Looking up was this old lady in scarfed hair dressed in a simple lavender robe and a walking stick in hand. "it's been an hour already. There isn't hope it will flow anytime soon,"
The old lady flashed a rotten toothy smile at her before setting back to walking whilst muttering to herself.

"Ma," Nora called, getting to ample height as she followed the old lady who was just three steps away. "Please, do you by any chance know of a place where I could fetch some water?"

The woman stopped, scanned Nora's physique and smiled. This time, concealing her rotted teeth.
"It's late my dear, go home, have some rest. You need it more than anything else," The woman returned to walking away and Nora didn't stop her this time.

Nora returned to the potion of the floor she had dusted earlier, made herself comfortable and began staring at her age mates sophisticatedly dressed. A set of five girls bypassed her: a hundred layered made-up faces, fake hair, expensive jewelry, and heightened short fitting dresses just an inch or two long after the bum level.
The group of five were chit chatting loud enough for her ears to capture whatever it is they were talking about.

"Heard one of the guys lives in this hotel." the darker of them all in curly Peruvian hair gestured to the hotel which owned the public tap where she fetched her water.

"You heard? Well, I saw him this morning. I think that should be his room," The shortest pointed to a veranda on the second floor. "Heard his dad owns a..."

The voices receded as they finally made it to the highway so much that she hadn't been able to capture the last of her words.
Back to analyzing the rest of the passers-by, Nora pinpointed a familiar figure wobbling on a pair of silver five inched heels, just like the previous set of girls, was this one dressed and made-up.

"Rose?" Nora figured, squinting her eyes to reduce the amount of street lights diving into them and also, to make sure she wasn't hallucinating or something. Rose rushed to the nearest obstacle which was part of the hotel fence for support before shooting Nora a deadly glare.

"What is it?" she growled.

"You look...different," Nora confessed wondering if her stepmother was aware of the appearance of the new Rose standing before her. Nora subconsciously shrugged, knowing that absolutely nothing would change whether she knew about it or not.

"Yeah, so what?" Rose reached for her shoe and began unbuckling it. "Jesus! My feet hurt," she whispered.
Nora did nothing but watch.
"Listen," Rose added. "I want nothing from you for the first time but to keep your mouth shut. Get that? Keep it," She mimicked a zipper along her lips.