We did not know how much longer they would come to open the door for us. Every morning a nun passed by the rooms of the whole school and with sour cries she took us out of our sleep and the warmth of the sheets that was the only warm thing in that boarding school. Then, all the students we said goodbye to peace and tranquility to enter a day full of obligations and responsibilities: we were the fundamental gears of that system, we believed.
That Wednesday the nun had not appeared as usual. It was already time to get up, even breakfast, and we were still in our bedrooms. The most restless girls had risen and wandered about the small enclosure, longing for the nun to run into the dining room and to keep up with the breakfast that was always very short, like all the meals at the shelter. The rest, those who, like me, appreciated the taste of sleep and the sheets, took advantage to stay in that warm and spongy cloud.
The hours passed, we continued there. Already standing, dressed, we stared at the door. Lunchtime had passed and our stomachs screamed in a huge way. We started screaming, desperately asking for help. No one came to help us.
We spent the whole day. When night came, we went back to bed, confused and starving. I do not think any of them have stuck that night. The next morning the nun went through each room at the usual time and opened the doors; When we asked what had happened he treated us as if we were raving.
Life outside continued as we had left it; Nobody had missed us or worried that we would spend a whole day without showing signs of life. Then I became aware of how little people are worth when we are held or institutionalized.
After a few days, convinced that no one would give us a correct answer and that every time they looked at us more strangely, we decided to stop questioning what happened that day; And although we never explained what actually happened, we continue with our lives as if that Wednesday had not existed.