I saw my ghost

.

.

I arrived somewhere in Ogun state today and placed a call across to Erik – the guy I was supposed to meet. I told him I was at the bus stop he had told me to drop at and to come pick me.

Well Erik was preparing what we'd feast on later and couldn't leave that unattended to. Instead, he gave me the address to his place and directed me on how to locate the address. Although the direction he gave was quite confusing, I managed to make sense of it.

I simply went left, straight, right and came to a halt at some point. I sensed something was up with the air. I scanned the environment and for reasons I couldn't fathom, almost everyone had their eyes fixed on me. Initially, I thought my clothes were stained or probably an object had got stuck to my clothes. I assessed myself but this wasn't the case. This only increased my discombobulation as I wondered what could possibly make me the centre of attraction in an environment I'd hitherto never stepped foot in.

I observed my environment again, this time, I caught sight of a missing person flyer pasted on a wall. I advanced and what I saw got me perplexed. I was the missing person. I couldn't demystify what was happening but the kind of scare I felt is not a feeling I'd identified with before then.

I made to call Erik but was interrupted by a collision force. I struggled vehemently and successfully discontinued the embrace and was met by the face of a crying yet simultaneously joyful elderly man.

Responding to my question on who he was and why he hugged me, he introduced himself as Mr Patrick, my dad. I'd been missing for 18 months. With doubt and surprise written literally all over my face, he beseeched I followed him home. There he said, he could clear my doubts.

Getting to his place, there were pictures of me all over; enlargements, portraits, stickers all having same person's face, mine.

He showed me photos of me from different events; birthdays, quiz competitions, sports, friends' hangout, family photos even from when I was younger. All of which are memories I'd always held on to, just this time, the people were wearing different faces. He told me everything there's to tell about me including how I got my scars. God knows I desperately wished he'll be wrong at some point but how can a parent be wrong about his kid. I was destabilized, dumbfounded.

After I was gone missing, he explained, for over a week, he consulted a soothsayer who told him I was a child of the gods and was reunited to them. My mom had agreed that with a medicine man to get me from the gods but she had not disclosed that to him till she passed away. The soothsayer had concluded that the gods would return me after they had finished purifying me and instilling me with abilities fit for a young god.

Since then, he never lost hope of my return. He'll wake with thoughts of me returning everyday for 18 months. He put the missing person's flyer so not to raise irrelevant talks from people.

I picked up an enlarged photo of myself and was staring directly at me. That moment was no short tormenting. I don't know what told me to but I ran. I ran out of the house, ran as fast I could. I just wanted to leave the environment. I kept running but was knocked down by a vehicle.

I woke up in a hospital but no one would believed my story when I explained what happened. The doctors concluded I was mentally deranged. They are contemplating taking me to a rehab facility.