CHAPTER NINETEEN
It didn't happen, until two months after - the nightmares, the late night sweating, the fear.
'The baby is chasing me'. I told the Reverend father, as I knelt on the confessional.
'Calm down'
'I killed a baby'.
I had waited till the last person left the church, I wanted us to be the only one in the church; just I and the priest.
'Forgive me father, for I have sinned greatly'.
'Whose baby did you kill' he asked.
'My own baby'. I replied. 'It was an abortion' I added.
'Are you truly sorry'.
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. It was dark, the church light was dim. I don't know if they did it on purpose, so no one could see the terrible weight of sin that sagged peoples faces as they walked to the confessional.
'Yes father, I am truly sorry'. If only he knew how sorry I was. If only he knew that I was on the verge of running mad.
'I forgive you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go and Sin no more.'
He said.
'What is my penance father' I asked.
'Go and Sin no more'. He said with a tone of finalty
I walked to altar, and lay on the floor. In the last months, I had lost weight. The baby and the voices followed me all about. Ujunwa told me it was my imagination. 'It's not even a baby' She said. But, in my head, in my dreams. It was more than a baby. It was a gripping image of myself. A baby that had my eyes, crying and chasing me, with hands stretched forward. Was it madness, was it a figment of my imagination or was it actually my baby? Whatever it was, it was possessing me. It was unsettling my innermost being.
The confession would help, I said to myself as I ran to church. The priest would forgive me in the name of Jesus, and like sun shining on debris after rain, my soul would smile again. But, as I lay on the floor, in the silence of the church. I felt weak, I felt like shutting the pain, the confusion. I wanted peace. I wanted to shut out the voices inside my head that always talked loudly. The voices that always contradicted each other. If only they could stop talking, if only they would shut up and give me absolute silence. If only I could switch off my thinking button. Maybe I would feel peace. My head turned like nylon in a whirlwind. I looked at Jesus on the cross, I wanted that relief that they so much talked about. 'Give me peace Lord' I begged. 'They said if I kneel in your presence and ask, you shall give me. I need peace'. I cried. I waited, for seconds, then minutes, then an hour, for peace. I didn't find peace. God had rejected me. I left the church, worse than I came in. Those voices in my head questioned my existence. Everything seemed, nothing actually was. Is there really a God? Where was the miracle people talked about? This God! Were we just his game guys, things he could crush and destroy. Did he play with us in his free time. Did he twist us to the point of insanity to see how we would react. If we would cry or laugh. Did he dispose us when we bored him, like we dispose toys we have outgrown. And I hated this God, he was playing with my head. People make mistakes, people do things that are wrong. He asks us to forgive, why couldn't he forgive me. Why did he send things to talk in my head, why was the baby I aborted, in my dreams, in my head...crying. I walked through the small path that had grasses springing out. I walked through the lines of shop. I walked past children playing and laughing. I walked past the beggars that sat on the street, and I noticed nothing, because I felt nothing, and like sudden thunder, it hit me; the solution to my problem. For the first time, the voices in my head were of one accord, they had one firm standing agreement 'End it' they said 'Kill yourself and have peace'. And like a blind man that had just regained his sight, I saw the light. I saw hope for peace, for silence, for absolute peace.
Good!
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