It was eerily quiet. Lights were on, but no one in sight. My late husband was away, and my eight year old daughter and I were on our own. Strangely it looked like our servants had gone somewhere else.
Telling Nola to stay in one place, I tried to find out why no one was at home. I looked all around outside, but mysteriously everyone had disappeared. I came back to where I had left Nola — she wasn’t there. Now where could she go? With heart full of anxiety, and eyes brimming with tears, I kept calling my daughter.
I searched my home, inside and outside, it seemed Nola had disappeared too. Crying, I ran outside to find my daughter. Suddenly I got the feeling I was the next target, and I had to flee. I felt desperate, hopeless and didn’t know what to do? With grief stricken heart at the loss of my daughter I ran trying to hide behind bushes, and trees on the way. I could hear them calling each other, as they searched for me. I kept praying to God, as I evaded them.
With tears running down my face, I woke up. It was a bad dream. The call of muezzin calling to morning prayer had begun. With heart full of relief, I stood on the prayer mat to say my prayers.
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