Chapter 3

Mrs. Chima sat on a wooden bench, sorting dried melon seeds when Francis walked up to her.

"Mum, aren't we supposed to start school? We're already two weeks late," Francis complained.

Mrs. Chima paused what she was doing and looked up at him.

"You and your younger sister will start next week in Asarama," she explained.

"You both are already in secondary school, so it will be better for you there."

"What about Clara, Helene, Isabella, and Samuel?" he asked.

"Well, Samuel is still a baby. Clara and Helene will attend the public school here, while Isabella can go to the nursery school close to the house."

"Oh."

Francis muttered his disappointment and walked away.

Clara, who had been eavesdropping the entire conversation, hissed in annoyance.

A public school?

Seriously?

She missed her friends already.

Most especially her best friend, who always made her laugh with her silly antics.

Ugh! Making new friends is boring.

With a frustrated sigh, she went back inside.

* * * Later That Day * * *

Clara yawned and stretched before opening her eyes.

She glanced around and found all her siblings still asleep.

Humph.

The sound of laughter outside caught her attention.

Curious, she hurried out of the room.

As soon as she stepped outside, she saw her parents sitting with one of her father's friends.

"Good afternoon, Mum. Good afternoon, Dad," she greeted, yawning again.

"Hungry?" her mother asked.

Clara smiled and nodded.

She turned to the visitor.

"Good afternoon, sir."

"Good afternoon, young lady. How are you?"

"I'm fine, sir."

She headed towards the kitchen.

"The food in the white plate is yours. Don't touch the others!" her mother called after her.

Clara laughed softly and went to wash the dirty plates in the sink.

When she finished, she sat down to eat.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden voice startled her.

She turned and saw Francis standing there, still looking sleepy.

"Hmm?" she mumbled after swallowing her food.

"I'm eating."

"Is that yours?" he asked, yawning as he searched for his own meal.

"Yeah. Mum said it's mine."

Francis nodded and began eating.

"Gosh! I still don't understand this new fishing lifestyle Dad has adopted. This place sucks."

Clara immediately agreed.

"I thought I was the only one who hated it here. No meat, no proper food, just garri and fresh seafood all the time. So annoying."

Then she smiled sheepishly.

"Although the fish is actually tasty. Especially that devil ray."

"Yeah, kind of," Francis admitted.

"I still can't believe Dad got transferred here. Four years feels too long."

"Four years?" Clara nearly choked.

"Don't you know how to pray for miracles? Two years is more than enough. I hate this place."

Francis burst out laughing.

"Do you really hate it that much?"

"I do."

"Alright then. We'll see."

Clara rolled her eyes.

"Hungry pig," she muttered before walking away. "Clara, I'm hungry," her little sister, Isabella, whined as she slid down from the bed.

"Go to the kitchen then. Big Brother is there eating," Clara replied as she walked outside.

"Anything I can help with, Mum?" she asked, settling onto a stool.

"Yeah, if you can. Just don't let the prawns hurt you," her mother replied.

Clara scoffed inwardly.

"No problem," she said, bending down to sort the mixed fish.

Her parents continued discussing in their dialect, which Clara understood perfectly, though they assumed she didn't.

After a while, a woman walked into the compound.

"Ah, ma'am! You people are doing this too?" she asked with a warm smile.

Mr. Chima chuckled.

"When you're with the Romans, you act like one. Or am I wrong?"

He adjusted himself on the bench to create space for her.

"It is true," the woman replied as she sat down.

"Madam, how far now? When are you bringing them? We have service today."

"Oh, we'll come on Sunday. It's their first time here, and most of them are already asleep," Mrs. Chima explained.

"Oh, I see."

"No problem. I just came to check on you people before leaving."

"Thank you. God bless you," Mrs. Chima replied warmly.

"Alright then, I'll be on my way."

The woman stood up and turned to Clara.

"Fine girl, hope you'll come to church on Sunday?"

Clara looked up innocently.

"Yes, I will."

"Good. Bye then."

She waved and walked away.

"Who's that?" Mr. Chima asked.

"A deaconess from Assemblies of God Church. I met her while looking for a church around here. Since it's the most accessible one nearby, I agreed to attend. She followed me home so she could know our address."

"Oh, I see," Mr. Chima replied.

Just then, another voice interrupted them.

"Good evening."

Everyone looked up.

It was the landlord.

"Oh, good evening, sir," Mr. Chima greeted with a smile.

"Good evening, sir," Mrs. Chima added politely.

Clara simply stared at the skinny old man.

"Are you people sorting fish?" he asked.

As he spoke, he bent slightly and reached toward Clara.

Instinctively, Clara pushed his hand away.

The old man looked surprised.

"Ah! Are we quarreling?"

"Don't touch me," Clara said firmly.

"Clara!" her father barked.

"Don't you have respect?"

Before Clara could explain herself, her mother intervened.

"Clara, go inside."

Without another word, Clara hurried into the house and slammed the door behind her.

Through the window, she caught sight of the old man's face.

His expression had darkened.

Moments later, he left without saying another word.

Soon afterward, her parents began arguing about what had happened.

Clara sighed and collapsed onto the bed.

She hated it whenever her parents quarreled.

A few moments later, Helene crawled onto the bed beside her.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hmm?" Clara responded.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Just a minor issue."

Helene narrowed her eyes.

"A minor issue?"

"Helene!" Clara snapped.

The warning in her voice was enough.

"Sorry," Helene apologized quickly.

Clara stared into space, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she heard her father's voice from outside.

"Uhm... Maxwell will be coming to stay with us."

Clara's eyes widened.

What?!

"Meaning?" her mother's voice shot back immediately.

"Listen now. My brother can't handle him anymore, so-"

"Is he not his son?" Mrs. Chima interrupted sharply.

"When that boy stayed with us before, all we heard were complaints. Now you want to bring him back again?"

"It's my brother we're talking about," Mr. Chima defended.

"Please keep it to yourself," she cut in.

"Your brother, your brother. You'll keep receiving insults because of that family."

"Woman, stop it! Leave my family out of this!"

"And when did I insult them?" she fired back.

"I'm warning you now."

Clara released a tired sigh.

Soon they would be shouting at each other.

It had become part of their daily routine.

Turning to the wall, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

Clara opened her eyes and stretched.

Something felt wrong.

Immediately, she sat up and looked around.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She was no longer at home.

Instead, she stood inside an unfinished building.

The floor beneath her feet was bare earth.

Slowly, she got up.

A wooden cross-shaped stick lay on the ground nearby.

Her heart skipped a beat.

It looked exactly like a grave marker.

Suddenly, realization struck her.

This was a graveyard.

Clara gasped and rushed outside.

The air was cold.

Too cold.

The silence was unsettling.

She turned around.

The room she had just left was gone.

Only crumbling walls remained.

Fear gripped her chest.

She kept moving, searching desperately for a way out.

But every room she entered led to another grave.

And another.

And another.

The darkness stretched endlessly in every direction.

"What is happening?" she whispered.

Panic flooded her body.

She searched desperately for an escape but found none.

Then she heard it.

"Clara... Clara..."

Her mother's voice.

"Mum?"

Everything around her suddenly became blurry.

"Clara, wake up!"

The voice sounded closer now.

"Mum!"

"Clara!"

She sprang upright with a gasp.

Sweat soaked her body.

"Ah-ah! What happened?" Mrs. Chima asked as she sat beside her.

Clara wiped the sweat from her face.

"I'm fine, Mum."

The dream still lingered vividly in her mind.

She didn't want to worry her mother.

Besides, there was nothing anyone could do about a dream.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Chima asked.

"Yes."

Mrs. Chima nodded and gently patted her shoulder.

"Alright then. Let me prepare something for you people to eat. You can go back to sleep afterward."

She stood and walked away.

Clara lay back down, folding her legs.

Gosh.

It was only a dream.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

"It is well," she whispered.