Story: Alone Season 1, Episode 4

If you haven't read episode 3, read it HERE .

I got home that day and I couldn't understand what was happening, everyone was moody and staring at me and my little sis.
I went to my parents room and I met her crying, we have to leave lagos today she said. I was surprised, but why? I am still enjoying myself here and wish to complete and secondary education here. Seeing that my mum was crying my little sister also bursted into tears, they were really cool together. A mother's love is the best you can say, they both remain inseparable.
As the first son my father has always  taught me to be bold and outspoken in the things I do, I asked my mum why she was crying. At the instant it seems my question added pain in her, she fell down with my sis. 
I asked about my father but she remained mute and was still crying. At that moment I go confused, it seems something bad must have happened. 
I went to the back of the house and I saw my father's bicycle which he takes to the church was not there, he must be in the church I concluded.
I had no appetite to eat again, I changed my school uniform and I started running to the church. If something was not wrong with my father then something must be wrong with my mother. I have to reach the church to bring my father home so he could talk to my mum to stop crying, I don't like seeing anyone cry. Maybe am very emotional, that is how and who I was. I hoped nothing bad is happening at home as I left.
As I continued running I noticed many people were looking at me pointing fingers, I'm was just 12 and harmless. What would I have done? Look at his son someone said, when I heared that my heart jumped, it seems something bad had happened to my Dad. I tried to wave the thought away and concentrate on thing that were positive as I was being thought by my father.
Finally I got to the church, I saw a large gathering of people at the gate. I saw some of the church members crying and I also recognized some of the people in the crowd that nearly burnt the woman.
I rushed it, someone tried to hold me but I loosed grip, I saw the fulani man and some touts inside the church laughing in the yoruba dialect. I overheard them saying "he thought he could change the culture of the land". I left them and rushed by the side of the church and I saw my father's bicycle covered with blood!
My heart beat skipped!
Was my father dead? Tears started rolling down from my eyes.
I went back to the front of the church and asked the members about the whereabout of my father, none answered me. I used the last money with me and rushed down home.

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