This morning, I went into my kitchen with the intent of dumping refuse. I grabbed my trash bag and was taken aback when something slightly moved inside it.
I can't even begin to describe how scared I was. My thoughts ran wild. A snake? Not a good day to get bitten by one. The hostel was deserted. My legs trembled.
Whatever was inside that bag will surely go outside, that I was sure of. Like a zombie, I managed to drag my feet to the main entrance of the hostel.
Curiosity. One mind said I should just dump the trash bag in the huge trash can. But no, I wanted to know what was in my kitchen. Shakes head.
As if pounced on, the creature suddenly shook vigorously. Oh my God! Don't come out please. Needless to say, I firmly held the bag.
Breathe. Deeply. Breathe again was all I did. Slowly, I strategically dropped the bag on the ground. Feet apart, ready to run at the slightest sign of danger, I opened the bag. Wait, did I say ready to run? I lied. By the time I opened the bag, I was some kilometers away from it.
The contents were half littered when a rat came out. Phew! A whistle escaped from my lips. Can you imagine? So I almost had a heart attack because of a rat? The thing still dey pain me till now.
Moral of this story:
Just like this rat, persevere. Keep on fighting until you're set free and relieved. Refuse to be trapped in an air-tight situation.
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Nothing haunts me like the words I don't write.