Life didn’t suddenly become easy.
If anything… it became more demanding.
The lonely nights at the uncompleted building began to change me.
At first, I was afraid.
Every sound in the bush… every movement in the dark…
It felt like danger was lurking.
But with time, fear turned into alertness.
Silence became my companion.
And the darkness?
I learned to see through it.
Seven days alone.
Seven nights of watching.
Thinking.
Surviving.
Sometimes, I would sit quietly and ask myself,
“Is this really how life is going to be?”
Then my phone would ring.
Patience.
“Hello…” I would say, my voice low and tired.
“Tony, how are you?” she asked gently.
That one question…
It always broke something inside me.
“I’m okay,” I would reply.
Even when I wasn’t.
She knew.
She always knew.
“You don’t sound okay,” she said softly.
“Talk to me.”
And slowly… I would.
I told her about the loneliness.
The silence.
The fear.
She listened.
Not once did she complain.
Not once did she tell me to give up.
“Tony,” she said one night,
“This is just a phase. You won’t be here forever.”
Her words stayed with me.
During the day, I tried to improve myself.
I observed everything.
I learned quickly.
I stayed sharp.
My supervisors began to notice.
“This one is different,” one of them said.
“He’s intelligent.”
For the first time in a long while…
I felt seen.
But life wasn’t done testing me.
One night, deep into my shift,
I heard a strange noise.
Not the usual sound of goats.
Not the wind.
Something else.
My heart started beating fast.
I stood up slowly, gripping my torch.
“Who’s there?” I called out.
Silence.
Then… movement.
Something was inside the building.
I took a step forward.
Another.
Every instinct in me screamed to stop.
But I didn’t.
Because I had something to protect now.
A future.
A promise.
Patience.
I tightened my grip and walked into the darkness.
Whatever was inside… I was ready to face it.