BLOOD SPILLED FROM THE PRIEST'S OFFICE into the confession room and splattered on the door of the confession room, some splashing on my face.


Before he was killed


Then came gunshots, blam! blam!! blam!!! and second, came a shock and freezing in my whole body system. My heart throbbed, my breath ostensibly ceased and for a moment the world was silent: my ears were blocked by the sound from the gun. I heard voices again, but low muffling voices, but it was a voice that spoke of pandemonium and confusion and uncertainties. The muffling voices were suddenly fading away being replaced by clear plain voices. I could hear screaming and shouting; women screaming the names of their children, like children being forced into a van or something like that. Babies crying, every man's voice told of l fear and hopelessness.

Then came more gunshots, as many times as the unknown shooters could shoot.

'Run! run!!' I heard a young boy, perhaps a youth giving this warning. I wanted to run, to seek solace and refuge outside the confession room but papa had once told me the place we go to confess to the Father is like the throne of grace and since we have boldly entered into the throne of grace then we shouldn't at all the afraid if anything because He is with us. So I stayed, believing I was safe even though I'd confessed my sins.

But I was...