I CALL IT A REVELATION
I have always seen me as the black sheep of my family. I was the only person that has the gift of knowing what was going to happen next. I see when people were about to die. I have never found somebody that possessed the same kind of gift I possessed. I felt weird among my peers, family and even strangers.
At 12, I had a dream that my grade six-mathematics teacher was dead and all my classmates and I were at the funeral. Few days after the dream, it was announced in school that my mathematics teacher who was also my class teacher had died. At that moment I felt very guilty for not doing anything about the dream. My mother also felt guilty when I broke the bad news to her. Because she was the first person I told immediately I woke up. All she could tell me was 'it is normal to have such dreams, do not be scared. Nothing will happen to your teacher.'
A year later, after all the guilt and regret had died out; I had another dream about another dead person. It was different this time round. I actually saw the person's face. It was my auntie who had just divorced her husband. I had a dream that she was lying in front of my mother's door dead. I did not even wake up fully when I heard a scream coming from the hall. It was my mother; she had just heard the news. I decided to keep the dream to myself but I couldn't. My mother asked me if I had seen this coming. I had no option than to tell her the truth.
The gift of mine became a bother to me. I thought of how to solve it. , I decided not to sleep at night anymore. So I used to sleep right after I came back from school, then watched movies at night. Even that could not do much.
A year after my auntie had died; I had another dream about another dead person. I couldn't tell the gender because the person's whole body was covered with a white cloth. The person was lying on my dad's bed and my brothers, my mother and I were around the bed crying. I didn't want to believe that my daddy was the next on the line. I prayed for several days which was so unusual of me. I never prayed after having those dreams because no matter how I hard prayed, the person still died. I told my mother about my dream but all she could do was cry. Later after the dream, my father became very sick. He had piles, then later he had stroke. I knew my dream was going to happen so I stopped praying and started giving my daddy all the love and attention I could give. I visited him everyday at the hospital and encouraged him that everything was going to be fine My dad was a strong and a great man. Even on his sick bed, he would get up and hug me whenever I went to visit. He would give me a pat at our backs and tell me that he will be home soon. This wish of his and mine never happened. He never came home after he went to the hospital. One day, my brothers and I went to the hospital to take food to him. When we got there his bed was empty. Then the nurse told us that our dad died some few hours before we got there. We started shivering and warm tears rolled fast down our cheeks. We were not able to say our last goodbye, tell him how much we would miss him and how we loved him.
After my father died, I felt very lonely and sad. It always felt like something valuable to me was missing in my life. A void. I blamed myself for my dad's death. I shouldn't have believed in my dream. Recently, I had a dream a another a guy who got shot in front of my house. I've decided not to think of it or believe that it will happen because the more I think about the dream, the more possible it becomes.
I have always seen me as the black sheep of my family. I was the only person that has the gift of knowing what was going to happen next. I see when people were about to die. I have never found somebody that possessed the same kind of gift I possessed. I felt weird among my peers, family and even strangers.
At 12, I had a dream that my grade six-mathematics teacher was dead and all my classmates and I were at the funeral. Few days after the dream, it was announced in school that my mathematics teacher who was also my class teacher had died. At that moment I felt very guilty for not doing anything about the dream. My mother also felt guilty when I broke the bad news to her. Because she was the first person I told immediately I woke up. All she could tell me was 'it is normal to have such dreams, do not be scared. Nothing will happen to your teacher.'
A year later, after all the guilt and regret had died out; I had another dream about another dead person. It was different this time round. I actually saw the person's face. It was my auntie who had just divorced her husband. I had a dream that she was lying in front of my mother's door dead. I did not even wake up fully when I heard a scream coming from the hall. It was my mother; she had just heard the news. I decided to keep the dream to myself but I couldn't. My mother asked me if I had seen this coming. I had no option than to tell her the truth.
The gift of mine became a bother to me. I thought of how to solve it. , I decided not to sleep at night anymore. So I used to sleep right after I came back from school, then watched movies at night. Even that could not do much.
A year after my auntie had died; I had another dream about another dead person. I couldn't tell the gender because the person's whole body was covered with a white cloth. The person was lying on my dad's bed and my brothers, my mother and I were around the bed crying. I didn't want to believe that my daddy was the next on the line. I prayed for several days which was so unusual of me. I never prayed after having those dreams because no matter how I hard prayed, the person still died. I told my mother about my dream but all she could do was cry. Later after the dream, my father became very sick. He had piles, then later he had stroke. I knew my dream was going to happen so I stopped praying and started giving my daddy all the love and attention I could give. I visited him everyday at the hospital and encouraged him that everything was going to be fine My dad was a strong and a great man. Even on his sick bed, he would get up and hug me whenever I went to visit. He would give me a pat at our backs and tell me that he will be home soon. This wish of his and mine never happened. He never came home after he went to the hospital. One day, my brothers and I went to the hospital to take food to him. When we got there his bed was empty. Then the nurse told us that our dad died some few hours before we got there. We started shivering and warm tears rolled fast down our cheeks. We were not able to say our last goodbye, tell him how much we would miss him and how we loved him.
After my father died, I felt very lonely and sad. It always felt like something valuable to me was missing in my life. A void. I blamed myself for my dad's death. I shouldn't have believed in my dream. Recently, I had a dream a another a guy who got shot in front of my house. I've decided not to think of it or believe that it will happen because the more I think about the dream, the more possible it becomes.
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