It was a normal Thursday, I was working from home, just finishing up and getting ready to go to the pool with my daughter.
I casually glanced at the TV which was always on as my wife’s dad liked to watch sport, any sport, it didn’t matter even if the commentary was in German (which he does not understand), but today the news was on.
It was odd, one of those news flashes. I saw incident, las ramblas, and other words flashing into my head.
“Go, go,” my wife said before I could say anything. Grabbing my iPhone I pushed my daughter out for way and nervously walked down the stairs and out into the blazing heat, blue skies, with the distant sound of kids splashing and laughing in the pool.
I was anxious, I wanted to check sky news, I need to know what was going on. My daughter, was of course yapping away and I was giving her the 20 second nod as I tried to focus on the words. “Basketball….training…..not hungry…..eating out…..” it was just snippets of a conversation that drifted up to me.
We finally got to the pool, my daughter decided to grab a few rays of sunshine, while I pulled up skynews. My skin went cold, I could feel little goose bumps on my arm. Words jumped out at me. Suspected terrorist attack, injuries, more follows.
I kept refreshing, watching my phone screen with one eye, and playing uno with the other.
iMessage notifications popped up from my brother in law, my wife, friends…
“did you hear?”
“what’s going on?”
“Any updates?
It was surreal. As the evening unfolded our worst fears were realised. Indeed there had been a terrorist attack using the favoured method – a rented van and a busy area of a city. More than 10 dead 70 plus people injured.
This surely was some dream I was stuck in? One of those dreams right? Or it was another Barcelona, not my Barcelona? How could it be, Spain where not in a war with anyone ….
You could see that others who had been enjoying the pool suddenly started to look at their phones. Whispered conversations, people looking around, making sure the kids were still blissfully happy.
Later that evening I did something I thought I would never have to do, and hope never to do again.
Facebook asked me to mark my self as safe. Fuck that – that’s something that people do in other countries, London, Manchester, somewhere in America, but in Barcelona?
The surrealness was replaced with a harsh reality. This had happened, this was real.
That night it was hard to sleep. A new report – the mossos, where involved in an incident about 60 miles away. The advice was to stay indoors in the town, not to go out.
Another attack, but this time 4 terrorists shot dead, wearing what seemed to be suicide vests. WHAT THE FUCK, this is my country, my seaside towns, my dreamland, that was now growing up and joining the other cities that had been disrupted by terrorists. Why did Catalunya have to grow up? Why did this have to happen? WHY?
I fell asleep that night, not knowing what news we would have the next morning…..
#notincpor #notenemosmiedo