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Undergraduate @ Redeemers university
He Came Knocking 3 Weeks After His Burial
<p>Episode 1</p><p><br/></p><p>It was just after midnight when Mary heard it, a knock. Soft at first. Then again… louder.</p><p><br/></p><p>She froze in bed. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.</p><p>Who would knock at her door at midnight?</p><p>No one had knocked since the night she laid her husband, Peter, to rest — three weeks ago.</p><p><br/></p><p>She sat up slowly and listened. Silence.</p><p>Then knock … knock.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Who’s there?” Her voice trembled through the silence.</p><p><br/></p><p>No answer.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only the wind pressing against the window… and the faint rhythm of rain beginning to fall.</p><p><br/></p><p>She waited heart pounding.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then, softly… a voice.</p><p>Familiar. Calm.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Mary.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Her chest tightened.</p><p>That voice no, it couldn’t be.</p><p><br/></p><p>It sounded exactly like Peter’s.</p><p>Her late husband.</p><p><br/></p><p>She stood frozen, clutching the shawl around her shoulders.</p><p>“Peter?” she whispered.</p><p><br/></p><p>Silence again.</p><p>Then knock … knock … knock.</p><p><br/></p><p>She moved slowly toward the window.</p><p>Her fingers trembled as she pulled the curtain aside just enough to see.</p><p><br/></p><p>Under the dim porch light stood a man, rain dripping from his hair, his face pale but calm.</p><p><br/></p><p>The same blue jacket Peter was laid to rest in clung to his shoulders.</p><p><br/></p><p>Mary staggered back. “No… no, this isn’t real.”</p><p><br/></p><p>He turned slowly toward the window, as if he’d heard her voice.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then he spoke, the same calm voice she had missed for weeks.</p><p>“Mary…”</p><p><br/></p><p>His eyes met hers.</p><p>“Open the door,” he said softly. “I can’t sleep outside.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Her eyes filled with tears as she backed away, shaking her head.</p><p>“But you’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered.</p><p><br/></p><p>He knocked again, three times, slow and patient.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Mary…” he called once more. “Please, it’s cold out here.”</p><p><br/></p><p>“Is this real?” she whispered.</p><p>No… it couldn’t be. She saw him buried with her own eyes.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet the voice, the knock, it all felt too real.</p><p>She took a shaky step toward the door, then stopped.</p><p><br/></p><p>She was torn… between love and fear, as the knock came again.</p><p><br/></p><p>To be continued....</p>
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