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Copyright © 2021 Bethel-Gold.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

***

Morgan Smith

… I stopped at the grocery store to get some of the items Dad asked me to get on my way from school. I was walking with one of my coursemates Beatrice and she helped me out with some of them.

When I was done, we came out of the store and continued walking home. We got to my house and said our goodbyes, I climbed the little step that leads up to our front door.

I brought out my keys from my pocket and was about to put the key in the keyhole when the door opened a little. ‘strange’ I thought to myself.

I pushed the door open and got in, it was dark. ‘If Dad is home, he won’t switch the light off, and his car isn’t outside’. I am hoping no one burgled in here.

I went to the kitchen to put down the groceries and saw Dad’s suit jacket and briefcase in the living room. ‘Okay, Dad might be home or he forgot something and rushed out’ I concluded.

“Dad?” I called out to the empty room, but I got no response so I decided to go upstairs to his room.

He wasn’t in his room, neither was he in any room and it's making me worried now so, I got downstairs while calling ‘Dad’ and still got no response.

When I had looked everywhere in our house, I gave up looking around and just told myself that nothing could possibly happen to him, I am just being paranoid so I decided to call him but he wasn’t picking up his calls.

After about five minutes, something popped into my head.

“Maybe he is having one of those meetings and he doesn’t want me disturbing him,” I said out loud to myself but looking at his briefcase and suit jack in the living room is telling me otherwise and I am trying not to make it be like the last time I thought something bad had happened to him and went on a calling spree which disrupted his meeting.

“He is probably in a meeting or might be close by so, I’ll just send him a text and hope that he responds on time” I did as I said and when I did, I went to pack his briefcase and suit jacket up to his room before coming back downstairs to make some dinner.

As I was making the food, I decided to cut some onions and as I was doing so, I cut my finger a bit and felt the pain coupled with the hotness of the onions.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed and dropped the knife then grabbed my injured finger and put it in the sink as the blood gushed out so much.

It wasn’t the usual little blood that comes out, it was coming out like a pipe burst, so I turned the water faucet on and put my finger under the running water, whilst biting the pain that accompanied it.

It didn’t seem to be stopping so I grabbed a kitchen cloth and stopped the water from pouring and used the kitchen cloth to cover my finger. I made my way out of the kitchen and in the direction of the garage to grab the first aid kit so that this doesn’t get out of hand.

‘Unusual’ I thought as I pressed the cloth on my wound.

As I entered the garage, I didn’t bother to switch on the light because I am quite familiar with where most things are, so I went to my right to get the box from the shelves when I tripped on something.

Thank GOD that I didn’t fall forward and maintained my stance instead, I looked back to see what was that but couldn’t see it properly so I went on my knee to check when…

“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan,” a voice I recognize as Ann’s called out to me “Morgan wake up” I opened my eyes when I heard the voice again and sat up from my bed while my body was damp with sweat.

My eyes met with Ann’s worried-looking ones before I turned to look at the time on the clock that sat on the bedside table and then back to Ann.

My mind wasn’t settled at all from the dream that I just saw and although it isn’t how I found out about my dad’s death I still see them.

“Morgan, are you okay?” Ann asked.

“How long have you been trying to wake me up?” I asked ignoring her question.

“About thirty minutes now…” she answered and I nod “I was meditating when I felt you shaking and calling ‘Dad’, so I tried to wake you up but you kept turning in your sleep and didn’t respond until now” she explained.

I could feel my breathing calm down slowly then looked at the clock again to see that it was already fifteen minutes after one in the morning.

“Those dreams, huh?” Ann asked and I turned to look at her as tears gathered in my eyes. Her arms automatically spread wide and I went into her embrace while letting the silent sobs come out of my mouth.

“It still hurts,” I say after a moment.

“I know that you’ve been through a lot and that it might be hard to forget but why don’t you try to let all of it go by letting GOD take control of things a-”

“Take control of what?” I cut her off and leaned back to look at her.

She had been telling me this since she took me from that hospital and is not something that I want to hear at all because things wouldn’t be this way if her ‘GOD’ had prevented it from happening so I do shun out what she says and did exactly that.

“What exactly is he taking over? Tell me, Ann, what? You keep telling me that this man GOD watches over us and yet she didn’t save my dad, my world, my everything…” I cried out with so much hurt “First, he took my mum and sister from me and then my dad… why couldn’t he protect my dad if he watches over us like you claim he is? Why?” I sobbed.

“You tell me he protects good people and my dad is a good man, why didn’t he save my dad? Why?” I asked then wiped the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

She sighs then took my hand in hers and squeezed them comfortingly.

“Morgan, you ne-” I raised my hand for her to stop whatever she was going to say to me.

“I don’t want to hear any more of those lies,” I told her and she nods then went back to reading her book while I stood up and decided to head downstairs for a drink of water.

As much as I don’t want to hear those things she tells me constantly, I don’t like speaking to her in such a manner, it makes me feel so bad that I speak with her with such a tone but I can’t help it.

I am aware that she is only trying to help me out of my misery but telling me that GOD cares when he didn’t care enough to save my family doesn’t make sense to me.

Every moment I have dreams like this or remember what happened, I feel so hurt and sometimes lonely… it's just depressing thinking about all of it.

I took a bottle of water from the fridge and poured it into the glass cup I grabbed then drank all the content.

“I need help”

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