Lullaby

It was a vibrant party, you know, with all the juvenile zest. Fast-forward and I see myself with this chubby, little boy with a bottle of hennessy. He looked 15. He got friendly and we settled down to drink. I made him drink some of it, 'cos well, he sourced it. But what would a 15 year old be doing with a bottle of Hennessy? So I thought we'd leave the rowdy part of the party and go chill out with the bottle in the nearby hotel. As we walked towards the building, there were careless glances, like no one really gave a damn about me carrying the bottle with the lad walking with me. Of course we were off to down it all, that's what's up! But there was this lady who stood up, and while walking to the nearby phone booth, she kept looking at us...hmmmm. I ignored her and moved on. Little did I know she'd made the call that was about to get me in trouble, or at least the way she looked at us, it appeared she screwed me (us) over.

Back in the hotel room, I gulped half the bottle of the henny, feeling high and shit. I left the remaining half for my brother who took a stroll earlier. Not long after, the kid excused himself and I felt good with myself. He reappears with a thick wad of cash and says we should go get some grub. A 15-year old boy, holding close to 10Gs. That's something. I didn't bother fussing over where he got dough from and we decided to go grub. He probably got it from the same source as the henny.

Scenes change and next I found myself back in the room but the kid wasn't with me. Door opens and three men sauntered in. Two hefty guys with chest as those of King-Kong flanked the smaller figure standing in between, left and right. The guy in the middle had some facial resemblance with the kid, but he's dressed like a traditional ruler - an Otunba to be precise. "Who's Joshua?" the Otunba asked. It was just me in the room. Without saying anything, sensing trouble, I rose to my feet. I tried to get close to the door, but both guards killed any attempt to escape. One of the two was carrying a black rucksack. He proceeded to open it. I saw what looked like bottles in the bag, with some queer-looking substance in them. "Here's hydrogen peroxide...this is sulfur...and this one is a concentrated acid..." He said in a very threatening voice. He took out a dirty, wrinkled piece of old paper and continued, "This is a receipt for purchasing these chemicals. This receipt is outdated, which means the chemicals are expired. I will have you drink of these, and there's nothing you can do about it. What were you doing with my son?..."

Now I knew what was happening. He was the kid's father. I looked at the door and noticed both guards weren't there. Without hesitation, like D'Banj, "mo gbe ja" (I took off). As I ran, I could hear echoes of his angry voice in the hall way, "You cannot escape." I fell into trap doors, and picked up myself, running with all the strength I could gather, sucking in as much oxygen to help me escape. I keep hearing the words "You cannot escape." every entrance into and exit from any of the rooms. My pulse quickened, my heartbeat was going at some 100bps (beats per second). I kept wishing and saying to myself, 'Josh, this has gotta be a dream. Just (move) and you'd be out of it. This has gotta be a dream. Shake yourself out of it." In no time, I found my face in my pillow with sweat dripping all over me. IT WAS A DREAM! I was close to peeing my pants, but I quickly dashed to the loo. It was a dream, after all.

I'm no Nebuchadnezzar, but all I've got to say is where are the Daniels to come decipher this o, cos fear catch me. I'm not the type who fusses over nightmares as I'm quick to tell others to dismiss whatever they say they saw in their's. But this one got at me o, cos I've not had a nightmare in a long-ass time. So wetin una think say dis one come mean? Or was it becos no one called to wish me sweet dreams before I gave head to my pillow?