Kathrine: I’m An Orphan But I Won’t Do It – Episode 20
I woke up at 5 am the next day and realized all of this was a dream. From the moment I took an Uber in the morning to Mrs. Abigail’s Salon, down to how they drūgged me and sold me to hūmán trãff!ckers—all was but a nightmare.
After I returned Mrs. Abigail’s handbag and collected mine, along with the little cash she gave me for keeping it intact at Guarantee Trust Bank the previous day, and after she asked me to meet her at her salon the next day, I boarded an Uber home. When I went to sleep hoping to go to her salon the next day, I dreamt all of this.
My body was soaked in sweat when I woke up, and it felt so real. I refused to believe it was a dream. I even went outside to confirm that I was still in my house and not in the custody of the traff!ckers.
The dark cell, the women, the unfamiliar men, the expansive compound, the houses, the maids, the white man—these images remained as vivid as crystal in my mind and before my eyes. I nearly lost my sanity as I frantically looked for Maria and the other girls from my dream.
I had never dreamt anything so real like that day. I became so scared, and my body began to shiver. A million thoughts ran through my head.
“What if this is a revelation? What if this is what will happen when I go to see Mrs. Abigail? What if they’re truly collaborating with human traffickers?” I pondered.
I immediately grabbed my handbag to ensure my check was secure, and thankfully, it was. I pulled out a folding chair from behind the door and sat down in the corridor of my house. With my hands under my jaw, I tried to comprehend such a scary dream I had about Mrs. Abigail, the same day I was meant to visit her salon.
The coincidence was too much, and I couldn’t just dismiss it. “Could it be God trying to warn me not to honor her invitation or encouraging me to go ahead but be very careful?” I thought.
It was already daybreak, and I had less than an hour to decide whether I should go or stay back and figure things out myself.
And to think that Mrs. Victoria, whom I had only met once on the bus, was involved in the dream made it even more real and extremely suspicious. How could my second meeting with her turn out to be so terrible and devastating?
The fact that both of them were allied with the traff!ckers in my dream, and none stood by me, made it even more confusing to know whom I should trust in the long run.
I wished I had someone I could talk to about the dream so that I wouldn’t conclude solely based on my assumptions or interpretation of the dream. I rarely dream, and when I do, my late Mum was the one who always provided the interpretation. I wish she was still alive.
Since this was the only opportunity I had and it was just a dream, not reality, I decided I would still honor the invitation but be very careful.
I wished I had other choices; I would’ve stayed back. However, this was my only opportunity to learn what to do with the 500,000 my Mum left behind for me.
I was afraid of not going, only to later realize it was just a dream or a warning to be cautious. I was careful not to take it too personally and miss the greatest opportunity life presented to me.
Instead, I learned from the dream and decided not to accept anything I’d be offered when I got there, whether food or drink. I resolved to stay alert and keep my eyes open.
Summoning courage, I tidied up the house, showered, had some tea, and headed to see Mrs. Abigail at her salon.
The address of her salon seemed far from where I lived, so to avoid being late, I ordered an Uber again. It felt odd because it seemed like I was replaying everything I had dreamt.
The only difference was the type of car and the Uber driver. Due to my fear, I left the check at home to avoid losing it for any reason.
I arrived at the salon, and it was almost identical to the one I saw in my dream. The differences were minimal, and that scared me, as it felt like the dream was becoming real. Nonetheless, I tried to clear my mind and stay focused.
I stood a distance from the salon, waiting to see if the dream would play out in reality. I waited to see if Mrs. Abigail and Mrs. Victoria would call my name from behind.
Unfortunately, they didn’t, and I felt somewhat relieved. I counted my steps as I approached the salon. I saw several stylists, each busy with a customer.
I greeted one of the stylists, introduced myself, showed her Mrs. Abigail’s business card, and mentioned that she was expecting me. I didn’t want to call her, as I wanted to see if the events would match exactly with my dream.
She led me inside, and when we reached the other end of the salon, she pointed to a brown door on the left, which I assumed was the spa room. She said Mrs. Abigail was inside. As she left, I stood still for a moment, astonished at how closely the salon resembled the one in my dream.
To avoid arousing suspicion among the stylists, I decided to enter the room. I turned the doorknob, gently pushed the door open, and peeked inside. I saw about three elegantly dressed women receiving facial treatments, and Mrs. Abigail was seated on a luxurious sofa at the other end of the room, engrossed in her phone.
She heard the door click and looked up to see who it was. As soon as she saw me, she exclaimed in excitement, “Kathrine!” She smiled and walked towards me, offering a warm and welcoming hug.
To be continued ✍️