Meeting what had awaited him.

'What day is it?' Santiago squinted at the candlelight that shone in no other place but at the window. He was not sure of the room where he was. He began to whisper the name of Roselle, trying hard to understand where he was.

"Roselle, are you the one there? Talk to me." He pushed the body beside him not knowing it was his grandma and he almost pushed her down. She had slept off while waiting for him to recover since he fell back to sleep since yesterday.

Shiloh woke up at the harsh push. Before she could switch on the lamp beside her, Santiago pushed her harder again, making her lose the small stance she had gained after the first push and finally, she limped on the floor.

Shiloh winced and almost screamed, "It's me grandson, not Roselle."

"What the fuck have I done?!" Santiago hissed, sliding out of the bed and touching the old woman on the floor trying to get her back to her feet.

The room was dark and he stumbled on the stool that Shiloh was sitting on, he too fell on his knees.

Shiloh stretched her hands immediately and touched the lamp, her fingers traced the lamp and she touched the button. The room lit.

Santiago stood immediately helping his grandma up. He steadied the stool and apologized, "I'm sorry I didn't know you were there."

"It's okay son, thank goodness you're awake again. You had slept the whole day yesterday."

"What?! I need to get out of here, I need to get to work, Roselle would hate me today for being late." Just as he said this, it hit his mind that Roselle was kidnapped and he had come here to seek an answer from heaven to know where Roselle was.

He remembered how he had fainted in the middle of the ritual and he solely cursed himself for not keeping up with the ritual.

"Grandma, how long have I been here?"

"You came here on the 12th, today is the 14th, it's the weekend already. Thank goodness we thought you lost your memory."

"What?!" Santiago screamed making the old woman shudder.

"Grandma, I need to get out of here now. I don't need to waste any more minutes." Santiago made it towards the door and halted, looked at his body and realized he had only a wrapper tied around his waist.

"Grandma, where are my clothes?"

"Mark kept it in the other room, that's the study room."

Santiago ran off immediately when his grandma had barely finished speaking.

He grabbed his shirt and suit which had been neatly folded and kept on top of the study desk. Putting it on, he heard the door open, and his grandfather running into the study room.

"Grandson,"

"Grandpa, I have to go now, I can't just be here, I need to find Roselle."

"I know how important it is but you just woke up now, take your breakfast first, look at yourself your body is weak, I bet you'll be able to get out of that door before you see the need to have something to eat."

"I don't think so Grandpa, I need to be out."

"Take your medicine at least."

"Alright." Santiago surrendered not wanting to waste more time arguing with him. He needed it too if he needed to focus on the road to stop the banging in his head. He took the small packet from him, opened it and took the pain reliever medicine. Taking the medicine down his throat with water, he headed towards the door.

"Thank you, Grandpa, grandma," He kissed the two on their forehead as they just watched him, a sober look on their faces.

Leaving the two grandparents in awe as he went out, he slid into his car.

Santiago tried so hard to keep his mind at ease, he was panicking, his hands shaking on the wheel as he fought to keep it still and concentrate on the road in front of him.

He so badly wanted to know what has been going on since he had left. He looked at the clock in his car and found out it was still five o'clock in the morning. His phone battery was dead now, he was unable to contact anyone.

The street was quiet and he could only see a few cars on the road, probably the people in them were also curious to get to their destination like he was.

His headache was not stopping, instead of the medicine to ease the agonizing pain on his forehead, it instead graduated to his eyes making his sight burry.

He couldn't get himself or understand what was happening to him and if he didn't control the situation he is sure he would hit a car or run into a lamp pole.

He tried to keep his gaze straight, making sure he was in the right lane.

Was it possible for his problem to go from bad to worse? He hoped not. He increased the speed, he was close enough, just close to getting himself in his bathroom to refresh himself and probably get this block off his head.

He approached his house and saw people lined up in front of his house. He looked very well and noticed they were familiar faces, his heartbeat picked up, thundering like the footstep of horses.

'Let it not be what I'm thinking' He could feel cold sweat pure down his body, with the crowd that had stood in front of his house. He couldn't help but think the worst seeing the sad look on the faces of the people there.

They looked tired, he checked the time again, it was just 6 o'clock now. That could only mean these people had stayed here over the night, ' God let it not be that Roselle is dead.' He prayed.

"Santiago is here!" Someone suddenly shouted from the people.

Santiago looked up and saw that it was the reporters that he was seeing, his headache was still pounding on his head.

As they approached him, he could only see the figures of human beings twirling around him and voices ringing in his ears.

He held himself in place as he leaned on the body of his car when he stepped out.

"He is pretending to be drunk!" Someone shouted.

"Such a shameless man!"

"What the hell was that?!" Santiago screamed inwardly.