SHADOW DREAMS

PART ONE THE EARLY DAYS. The most Immortals of our retributions are memories. Time can never nullifies the effect it imprints on our subconscious. The consequences of sins none are as potent as memories. Scares both emotional and physical could fad away with time, but memories are like putrid cancer, sipping into the blood, spreading through the bones to render us non-composmenties. The impetus that made me produce the a written work of the events of my life, was my quest for peace of mind. All along I had bore my burden alone like a pregnant woman. Drowning in my pools of regrets. A peace of mind that had eluded me thirty-two years of my existence. So the natural tendency toward the actualization of this peace has propelled me finally to share my burden. I have battled with my emotions, my only consolation has been those silent tears that offers no relief. Perhaps I’ve been the architect of my own woes, but are there any punishment left for those whose remorse is greater than their sins? For those who cannot find it in their hearts to forgive themselves for the sins they felt rightly or not to have committed? Many a nights I toss and turn restlessly waiting for a sleep I know will never come and ask myself those questions. Questions that has been eating away my sanity, questions that’s has agonized me with more perplexing questions. Questions that has kept nagging on my subconscious swapping deliriously from the past like a drunken demon to enforce on me the mistakes of ignorance, the recklessness of youth, the bitter-sweet memories. The wild nights I could not help the web of memories that constantly entangles me nor the hot tears that scald my cheeks. Those shattered dreams those broken promises, those reckless days. The fear the fire the passion the faith the hope the hopelessness, yes the hopelessness. And so I could ramble on and on until I will become emotionally and mentally spent these are the incentive stimulus that prompted the the existence of this book for try as much as I did with aggressive methods beyond prudent or reasonable limits to forget the past to shut myself out of this bitter memories they are always ahead of me waiting like a costrel determined to plunge deep deep into my heart the mean sword of regret. I had become scared of my own shadows living in my own world of darkness and loneliness. Oh loneliness the dreaded silent killer loneliness segregates you from yourself it makes you feel empty. So I sat here and scribble away furiously like one hypo sensitized shut up in my own corner of the world remembering all that has been and dreaming of all that should have been. As I flip through the pages of this book of memories that is my mind. I cannot help but realize that we humans are the inventions of our past, a past that determines our present, a present that will become a past that will mold our future. CHAPTER TWO. I was born twenty-nine year ago. My name is Raphael. Emeka Raphael Chibuikem, but my friends call me Dean a nick name I acquired due to my commanding authority and influence. I was born into the family of Mr and Mrs Charles Onwuegbuna Chibuikem the first of four children two boys and two girls. Chinasa Ruth Chibuikem, Chioma Juliet Chibuikem and b