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CHRONICLES III
<p>EPISODE 3</p><p><br/></p><p>I woke up choking.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dust filled my lungs.</p><p><br/></p><p>The air smelled like old books and wet concrete.</p><p><br/></p><p>A rusted school bell rang once.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then again.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then again.</p><p><br/></p><p>I looked up.</p><p><br/></p><p>A broken sign hung above a cracked gate.</p><p><br/></p><p>ST. AGNES ACADEMY, JOS.</p><p><br/></p><p>Closed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Twenty-seven years ago.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet children's voices echoed through the corridors.</p><p><br/></p><p>Slowly...</p><p><br/></p><p>the classrooms began filling on their own.</p><p><br/></p><p>Forty girls walked in wearing faded uniforms.</p><p><br/></p><p>None of them spoke.</p><p><br/></p><p>None of them blinked.</p><p><br/></p><p>Their faces looked unfinished.</p><p><br/></p><p>Like someone had erased them.</p><p><br/></p><p>I wanted to run.</p><p><br/></p><p>But my feet refused.</p><p><br/></p><p>A chalk screeched across the blackboard.</p><p><br/></p><p>A woman stood at the front of the classroom.</p><p><br/></p><p>My heart stopped.</p><p><br/></p><p>Amina.</p><p><br/></p><p>Except...</p><p><br/></p><p>she wasn't twelve anymore.</p><p><br/></p><p>She looked exactly my age.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only her head...</p><p><br/></p><p>was a blackboard.</p><p><br/></p><p>Words wrote themselves across it.</p><p><br/></p><p>ATTENDANCE.</p><p><br/></p><p>She began reading names.</p><p><br/></p><p>One after another.</p><p><br/></p><p>Forty names.</p><p><br/></p><p>Forty voices answered.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Present."</p><p><br/></p><p>Then she smiled.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Zina."</p><p><br/></p><p>Silence.</p><p><br/></p><p>Again.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Zina."</p><p><br/></p><p>I refused to answer.</p><p><br/></p><p>She walked toward me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Slowly.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every step echoed like a clock counting down.</p><p><br/></p><p>When she reached me...</p><p><br/></p><p>she placed two fingers beneath my chin.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Look at me."</p><p><br/></p><p>I couldn't.</p><p><br/></p><p>She forced my eyes open.</p><p><br/></p><p>Inside my own reflection...</p><p><br/></p><p>I saw House 14.</p><p><br/></p><p>The mango tree.</p><p><br/></p><p>Its roots weren't growing downward anymore.</p><p><br/></p><p>They were spreading.</p><p><br/></p><p>Across roads.</p><p><br/></p><p>Across cities.</p><p><br/></p><p>Through Abuja.</p><p><br/></p><p>Through Jos.</p><p><br/></p><p>Like veins beneath Nigeria.</p><p><br/></p><p>All leading toward one place.</p><p><br/></p><p>A river.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dark.</p><p><br/></p><p>Endless.</p><p><br/></p><p>Waiting.</p><p><br/></p><p>Amina leaned close.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only this time...</p><p><br/></p><p>the voice wasn't hers.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was mine.</p><p><br/></p><p>"We're almost home."</p><p><br/></p><p>Every girl stood at once.</p><p><br/></p><p>Their chairs scraped backward together.</p><p><br/></p><p>Forty identical sounds.</p><p><br/></p><p>They walked outside.</p><p><br/></p><p>I followed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because something inside me wanted to.</p><p><br/></p><p>The school was gone.</p><p><br/></p><p>The city was gone.</p><p><br/></p><p>Ahead of us stretched a dry riverbed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Cracked earth.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dead silence.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>a single drop of water fell.</p><p><br/></p><p>Another.</p><p><br/></p><p>Another.</p><p><br/></p><p>Within seconds the river began filling.</p><p><br/></p><p>Something enormous moved beneath the surface.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then...</p><p><br/></p><p>two glowing eyes opened.</p><p><br/></p><p>To be continued...</p>
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