The Last Relief

The man in the fancy suit looked around warily as he walked a little faster on his pudgy legs, this part of the city wasn't especially safe during the night. But he had no choice, the only parking available was so far from the office, all the other spots were filled with automobiles, the city was bursting with them.

He held the suitcase closer to his chest, the leather bad with its glistening brown skin, held important papers and it won't do at all to lose them.

The fancy suit man's passage was carefully watched by two beady sunken eyes, weak and tired, but burning with the flame of hunger and desperation. His dry mouth opened and closed trying to suck in moisture from the drier air, the wheezy rattle escaping his cracked lips.

A sudden rustle to the right, the suit man was too late in his reaction as thin grubby hands pushed him down, and hungry claws grabbed the bag on its escape.

Run, keep running, don't stop, my chest is hurting, my leg aches, but I can't stop..I can't get caught. I can't.

I held the bag close to my chest, it's overpowering freshness and cleanliness a novelty to my dirty diseased skin. The anguished and angry screams behind me fast fading as I scampered through alleys and waded through waste, like the sewer rat they saw me as.

I finally reached the blue tarp-covered corner in the filth, that we call home. From within a faint cough emanates. No no, I cannot be too late..Not now..

I ran in "it's okay chutki, bhaiyya is here now..It's alright.. Everything is fine..I am here" I kept telling her, repeatedly as a prayer, as I threw down the leather bag onto the dirty ground. I tried pulling it open, but the clasps wouldn't give, and in my haste and worry I was too flustered to properly work the clasps. I let out a groan of frustration, My chest heaving.

I looked at the shrunken figure of my baby sister, wrapped in grubby sacks that I salvaged from the dump. She shook violently, the fever had reached its peak..My eyes too dry for tears, my soul too dead for sadness...In this world, you have to be rich even to be sad.

I finally got the frustrating clasp to give, and my heart heaved with relief. I scattered the contents of the bag, my eyes hungrily looking for just one precious thing, that I hoped would be there. Yes! It's there... Amongst a pile of worthless paper and even more worthless money, for its too late to use to save her. 

I picked it up greedily and went to my sister, my only Friend..I held her tiny body in my arms and watched as her eyes widen with relief..One last bright moment of brightness in her short bleak life. I knew it wouldn't be longer...Atleast the suffering ends soon..Atleast for the last breathe she can die suffering less...

The now-empty bottle rolled away from us onto the ground as I held my sister close. Water so scarce...More precious than gold...More precious than life.