Rain pattered down onto the cold, hard concrete. I felt dull and extremely bored, as I sat in my wheelchair and watched the water splash wildly against the sidewalk. I rolled out of my dark room and into the hallway, listening to the rain tiptoe across the roof.

My caretaker Carla sat peacefully on the soft, velvet couch. Her golden hair, shining in the light of a luminous, glowing lamp. Eventually, the rain got really heavy, and it was pounding above me. I was anxious, so I rolled over to the kitchen window and just sat there, thinking. 

That's when I heard it, a dripping noise. Not just the dripping noise, I've been forced to listen to all night. It was closer and louder. That's when my eyes landed on a stream of water, creating a shiny damp puddle on the cream carpet.

“Carla!” I called out, impatiently. She came before I even had the chance to get my breath back. She gasped and swung around, her luscious hair sliced through the undisturbed air. Next thing I knew, I could hear big, bulky wheels climbing up our stoney driveway. We had to evacuate.

Even though we were contained in our big van, I still felt cold inside just looking at the descending rain. Time passed quickly sitting in the van staring out the window into the foggy horizon. Soon we arrived at the ‘Centre’. The ‘Centre’ is a place where the residents who live in the houses of Creative come to cook, paint, work out and do other fun activities.

A big crowd of us just hung out upstairs. After what felt like hours and hours of repetitive conversations, I gazed downstairs. A river of dirty stormwater streamed between the newly painted white walls, anxiety filled my stomach. 

Before I even looked away from the window, some members of Creatives senior leadership team were lightly jogging up the steep stairs and into the room where we all were gathered. “Don’t worry about the flooding down there, we are just going to move you to one of the other houses”. Even though they said not to worry, I was really worried. 

One by one, we all made our way downstairs to the vans. Water gushed down the deserted streets. “Georgia, we’re gonna have to carry you to the vans.” “Why?” I replied without hesitation. “Because your wheelchair can’t go through the water”. I gulped... I was nervous.

A little ”okay” popped out of my mouth. I tried not to think about anything at all. I laid back onto the bright yellow stretcher, took a deep breath and it was go time. 

I can’t remember much from when I was on the stretcher, all I do remember was the constant rush of the water beneath me. Faint screams came from the distance. The deserted streets felt like a swimming pool which had an electrical problem.  

After days of staying in motels, we found a new home. That night I will have nightmares about forever.