This Must Be a Dream Part 2 [Fiction]

Photo by Linh Nguyen on Unsplash

Before you commence part 2 of this story, I would implore that you read part 1 to have a full grasp of the story. Thank you. I do hope you enjoy this story. Please, feel free to let me know what you think of it in the comment section. Thank you.

This Must Be a Dream [Fiction]

This Must Be a Dream Part 2

I was dumbstruck and felt down. I was in the midst of danger; I could not call anyone, and I felt like giving up. I sat down on the floor and as though it would not get any better, it started dewing. For twenty minutes or so, I was lost in thought. Thoughts of whom I had become, the dreams and goals I once had that I have archived in the depths of my mind, the lovely lady I was getting close to (whom I was yet to take to God in prayer), my reduced quiet time with God, etc. My thoughts barraged me. There and then, the urge to pray overwhelmed me. For like five minutes, I was lost in prayer. After praying, I got up and started walking. I was not sure of where I was headed, but I felt it was better than just sitting there amidst the gravestones. After walking for about an hour or so, I was facing a wall. For the next few seconds, I felt crushed inside. For the past hour, I had walked in the direction opposite the road. As I contemplated my misfortune, something in me lit up, “well! Now I know the direction to the road.”

As I was about to turn around, I saw a light flickering on my right. It was like the light of a touch light. Something in me said, “check what is going on there.” Another voice in my head said, “don’t be foolish. Have you not had enough trouble for one night? What if that is the herbalist, his assistants, and the woman in red apparel? What would you do?” I agreed with my second thought, but I found myself heading in the light’s direction.

As I got close, I could see three men digging a pit. Immediately, the fear in me intensified. “Do I go back now or … what if they notice me? Ha! Would I be the scapegoat?” screamed my frightened imagination. When I started muttering, “I shall not die but live,” I really can’t say. One of the men said, “it is enough, let us throw her in.” Another asked, “do we kill her first?” The person who spoke before said, “no!” They threw the body into the grave and covered it. I can say I have never been so scared in my life as I crouched there. Few minutes later they were done. They hid their spades and climbed over the fence. I rushed quickly to where their spades were, took one, and started digging. Luckily, it was a shallow grave. As soon as I saw the lady, I dragged her out. She was still breathing, but faintly. Suddenly, I heard one of the men over the fence say, “Boss, I forgot my wallet.” I don’t know what came over me, but I picked the lady as though she was paper and ran. I was overtired, but with my adrenaline at its peak, I ran like a madman with the unconscious lady on my shoulder. I stumbled several times, but I kept going. At a point, the lady woke up and started struggling to be free. She assumed I was one of her attackers. I put her down and tried to explain to her what had just happened. She tried shouting, but she was too weak to scream. I quickly explained to her what had just happened to her and loosed her. She tried standing but fell. I allowed her to rest, but I was ever alert. Not long after, we could hear rapidly running steps in our direction. “Ha! Could it be that the assassins have discovered that she is missing? What have I entered into?” screamed my perturbed imagination. I rushed in her direction and told her to keep quiet while we lay flat on the wet long grass behind the shadow of a huge gravestone. The running footsteps kept coming closer, and the closer the sound of the footsteps, the faster my heartbeat. The running footsteps passed, and I let out a whisper, “Thank you, Father.” When the footsteps passed us, the lady wanted us to run in the opposite direction, but I immediately stopped her. I told her that we should wait; she was unwilling to go with my suggestion, but all of a sudden, we could hear the running footsteps come back. She did not budge anymore; she held my right hand tight as she lay flat on the floor. The running steps stopped not far from where we lay down as though the persons running heard something. I couldn’t see them, but I did not dare attempt to turn to look. All of a sudden, the persons resumed their running. I and the unknown lady lay there for hours without budging. We were too afraid to attempt moving from that position. What awaited us was uncertain. I told myself that if I was alone, I would have kept moving. Either I was lying to myself or telling the truth, I could not ascertain for I was very tired and scared. I laid flat and kept muttering, “The Lord shall preserve me from all evil; He shall preserve thy soul.”

I dozed severally, but at the first sight of sunlight, I stood up. I was hoping that she would stand up too only to discover that she was fast asleep. While I was panicking, she was sleeping like a baby. I waited a little while before waking her. I helped her up, assisted her to walk, took her to the nearest hospital, paid for her admission, and went home to prepare for work with a promise to myself to leave work early after submitting my report for the conference I went to at Abuja. I was all dirty, was bleeding slightly on my left palm, and my white shirt was now muddish brown and grassy green. I had spent the night at a cemetery, but I could not help but ponder, “could it be that God made me spend the night at the cemetery to save this lady? Who could she be?” A question I was yet to find out.