It was a cold evening, an hour to 7 o'clock. The clouds were thick and grey, and the sun had already disappeared.
Yara was at the swamp, squatting with the back of her dress folded between her thighs and torso, holding a small bucket in her hand just a few centimeters from the bank of the swamp.
As she dipped the bucket to pull out cleaner water, a thought, more like a voice, seemed to speak to her from within her surroundings.
"You have grown up in a good life, but now it seems everything has fallen apart. Life will be better if you own everything you want."
It was just a few seconds, but Yara didn't even realize that the front part of her dress was submerged in the water, soaked up to her knees.
"I rebuke you in the name of the living God and His only son, my Savior," Yara replied to the voice in her mind, breathing heavily. She also felt a hovering sound over the swamp. Quickly, she pulled out her bucket and walked back to the house, which was less than 100 meters away.
When she arrived, it was getting dark. Her godmother, Mrs. Zera, looked at her with a frown as she walked into the compound through the wooden gate, observing Yara from head to toe.
"What took you so long?" Zera asked as she wiped the dining table that had been set outside on the balcony for a barbecue-style feast that evening, occasionally glancing at Yara.
"The water wasn't clear, so I had to wait a bit for it to settle," Yara replied, looking at the table and avoiding eye contact with Zera.
"Don't start acting wiser than me," Zera cautioned Yara, pointing at her. She curled her lower lip slightly and went to the kitchen to pick up the roasted beef to set the table.
A few minutes later, everything was set. The boys, Egen and Zayun, Yara's brothers, and their cousin Moze returned from their games and headed straight to the kitchen to wash their hands. Without delay, they moved to the table and waited for Zera and Walda, Moze's mother, to join them.
The house was lit, including the outside. It was a small village where many affluent people lived alongside peasants and other lower-class families. No robbery had been reported in over two decades, and crime was almost unheard of. Late-night dinners outdoors were common.
After prayers, everyone began serving themselves in order, starting with Moze, then the boys, and then Walda.
"If you want, you can serve yourself or wait for me to do it," Zera said to Yara, her lips stretching into a smile as her eyes moved across the table to gauge how much food was left.
"As you serve, know that there are more people who still haven't eaten." The boys continued chatting about their hunt and games while Zera and Walda joined in the conversation.
Yara felt her stomach rumble. She tightened her lips to suppress the sensation and asked to go inside, saying her stomach was hurting.
"OK, hurry so the food doesn't get cold," Zera replied, raising her eyebrows as she glanced at the remaining food.
Yara walked toward her bedroom, sharp pains shooting through her stomach. Her lips went dry, and a pale feeling overcame her. After minutes of struggling with the pain and rolling on the floor, tiny beads of sweat appeared on her face. As she moved her legs on the floor, another thought, like a voice, appeared in her mind.
"You know you were never meant to live. What matters is being free from this pain." The thought repeated itself, and a deep sense of darkness loomed over her.
When she woke up, it was morning.
Sitting up, she lifted her hand and touched her shoulder, which felt sore. Yara clenched her teeth as she gently massaged both shoulders. The hunger was still there, but it wasn't overwhelming.
"I'll get up and clean myself," Yara mumbled to herself, her eyes scanning the room as she breathed slowly and got up. She walked at a slow pace behind the house to brush her teeth. Zera and the boys were in the garden tending to the fruits.
Their eyes glanced at her, and each of them smiled to themselves before continuing with their work. But Zera took another look and walked closer to Yara, bending slightly to examine her eyes and face.
"You must have slept well," Zera remarked, her face beaming with sarcasm.
Yara, feeling a wave go through her mind and body, told Zera she was feeling sick all over. Zera told her to go back and rest.
"Is she fine?" Zayun, the brother who followed Yara in birth, asked Zera as he watched Yara limp back into the house.
"I have no idea, but she's a grown woman now and can take care of herself."
Egen, the third brother after Zayun, smirked and sliced a ripe mango, handing it to Zera and Zayun to taste. He wasn't one to speak often, but when he did, his words were hard to forget.
"Maybe we should let her rest for a long time," he joked. They stayed in the garden until the afternoon, cooking their lunch there after checking on all the fruit, never once checking if Yara had woken up again.