1 Broken art

Slowly he walked towards me, creeping like a delusional ghost. Hands dangling from side to side . smiling mischievously at my terrified face.

I ran weakly round the room, with my voice falling me and I shut my eyes.I slowly open my eyes just to see his face clearly.

I screamed with vigour, with my hands up in the air , only to jerked back to reality by my mum's loud voice telling me to get my siblings ready for school.

I heaved a sigh of relief, why do I keep seeing him in my dreams, i said out loud while trying to wake my sister from the other side of the bed.

My dreams continue to hunt me, the solution no brain hold. Now that's another issue because when I sleep, i dare not close my eyes cos am scared of dreaming.

I continue with my normal routine, the only difference was that it's my brother's first day in school . There was a lot of ruckus fixing him in .

We are a middle class family living near the border's of two states in a country in Africa, a typical western house and a sweet home with an exemption of a broken art.

I rushed out of the house in a hurry with my siblings to make it on time to save my brother's first day of school. Luck be on our side we made it before the assembly started.

Today is an auspicious day , after writing my o level exams , i stopped going to school but today am resuming in an evening tutorial centre.

I reached the center at the proposed time . I walked in only to hit a solid body , i looked at the face that looks familiar or way to familiar. He is the man in my dreams .