Chapter 2

I and my two brothers slept on the same bed. That night, sleep was out of view; it gave way for the spirit of torment to sit on me, I felt horrible and dreadful as fear had already taken a place within my bossom: at that time, I was late into the night, everyone was asleep except me, I lost my sleep after I had a nightmare- a nightmare that I can't overly explain, everything I saw was unclear to me: I saw something that looked like moving objects, accompanied by a sound of an old engine, that engine seemed to be planted within my soul.

I could literally feel a force working hard to disintegrate my body, soul and spirit. I just felt that a force wanted to split me apart. At that moment, hell was loosed on me. I then noticed that I could barely breath. In that deadly mode, My eyes were opened. I could recall that it was as if I was been regulated by a switching force that moved me from one realm of reality to another interchangeably, I will see an unrecognised environment and just in nino seconds I will also see my room were I was sleeping. I couldn't move any part of me, only tears dripped from my both eyes. I noticed that some dwarfed creatures that were around me. It was as if they were carrying out some functions either on me or in the room were I laid, I can't remember vividly, although, I knew those creatures were walking to and fro, from the point were I laid and to other places. During those strange activities, I was under an excruciating pain- a pain that I wasn't feeling on my body, but somewhere around and within my soul, I also felt darkness boiling, at that boiling point, it was as if my heart was going to come out of my mouth, or I was going to throw up. the boiling of darkness persisted, I was like trapped in between life and death; light and darkness; real and the unreal, within the land of the dead and the land of the living; even though the room were I was sleeping was completely dark, I was still able to see those strange creatures walking around the room.

When I awoke from that nightmare, I screamed and ran to my mother's room, she immediately awoke when she heard me screamed and trimmed up the lantern. I gripped her tightly, been tormented by the fretful experience. "What happened?" She questioned hastily. "Something is pressing me! Something is pressing me!" I spoke while panting and panicking, still holding tight to her, my legs fidgeting continuously; my teeth clatter, seeing that fear had taken over me, my mother began to pray for in our dialect; she called on Jehovah the God of the Christians to protect me from the onslaught of the wicked forces that were after me. That night I couldn't sleep on the same bed any longer with my two brothers who were aware of what was going on, I was scared of entering the room. I pleaded that my mom should let me lie on her bed, which she agreed. I lied down with my heart still pounding and my eyes opened, working hard to peep through the darkness, at that time, my mom had trimmed low the lantern. In that elongated night hour, my eyes were widely opened as I laid facing the dark ceiling, my eyes and head moved sideways for fear of the unknown. As I looked sternly at the hovering darkness in that room; my thoughts were clouded in horror, I could see clearly with my eyes the pictures that crossed my mind.

I was seeing those thoughtful creatures walking from one end of the dark room to the other. Before long, my mom woke up to realise that I wasn't sleeping, she then trimmed up the lantern. "Why are you not sleeping?" She asked. "I am seeing people walking in and out of the room." I explained. "But no one is here." She assured me, she then urged me to sleep. "But I can see them." I then gestured with my hands pointing to some of the creatures I was seeing. Then she glanced at the directions where I had pointed. "I can't see anyone." She told me, at this point, she asked me to close my eyes which I did. By the time I opened my eyes again, she had turned down the lantern and therefore causing it's shimmering light to dwindled completely.

By the next day, I slept until it was midday, when I finally got up from the bed, my mother bath me with a warm water, then she administered those capsules to me again. 

That day, my mother after looking at me for a while, she said: "when you see those creatures again, call the name 'Jesus' do you understand?" She questioned. "Mmm" I answered. Although, I never knew who Jesus was or meant, even though I had seen and heard the Methodist priest in our local church used the name often during the preaching of some long epistles kind of sermons, how he had often times said that Jesus is the first born of the God of the Christians, and I have also heard our children's teacher telling us about someone by the name Jesus who died for the whole world. Who also fed five thousand men with five loaves of bread and two fishes, I could also remember that I have heard my school teachers pray every friday with that name. I just believed when I call that name, those creatures tormenting me will give way, 

That day, I lie often and sat seldom accompanied by a fabric of scattered thoughts that ran all day through my mind: the thought of the hide and seek game I often played with my friends popped up frequently in my head, the actor and boss game we always played, the venturing into the woods to look for mango, all these thoughts went around my mind in several three sixties. The thoughts projected outside the confinement of my immediate environs: the whistling of the hawkers selling insecticides and the yelling of the middle aged women who sell ground nut, the thoughts of the echoes of penury, the state of struggle among the oppressed Africans in their fight for survival. The bevy of girls that embark on a series of distant trekking, the sight of the aged in their eighties still hawking (Goro) kola nut. The pictures of few heartless daughters I had countless times seen fighting their feeble mothers; old ladies driving broken vehicles; the tears of agony I had seen from peasants that were unable to pay their bills.

That day, the thought of the on approaching night ran through my mind, I remembered the previous experience, the horror and the dread of the nightmare. The approaching twilight scared me. I wished that there will be no night; although night crawled in stealthily like a drenched turtle. Again, that took over the show, the lantern was lit, "buy kerosene!" I heard the yelling of the fuel seller who went from house to house just to secure a customer, I overheard my mother telling one of my brothers to collect a measure of a kerosene, while my mom was busy in the kitchen with dinner, where I laid on a couch that was close to a window, I hear the protruding voices of my fellow kids that were intoxicated with laughter, i heard the trotting sounds coming out of their barefoot legs, I heard a woman yelled, "Inalagwu!" She was calling her child to return home, I guess I was familiar with that: my mother always do that to us when we will be far from home. Sometimes we return at a blast of that motherly tone, and at other times when our play time had taken a higher dimensions, I will proceed in my playing until I have heard my mom yelled my name over four times.

In a short while that night, food was ready, my brothers had began to engage in the swallowing of the meal, I watched and wished I were in their shoes: the position to eat until I am full, the position to even hurry over meals to go call my friends to come play with me. Then, I gradually joined them in the eating, but at every instance of the thought of the night horrors split my heart in twos.

I wondered and wished that the nights were never in existence.