I followed my husband to the river that night, after our neighbour secretly told me that my husband always sIeeps with another woman in the middle of our community river every night.
My heart pounded wildly against my chest.
“Now that I have the chance, it is time for me to bind you!”
The Queen’s voice echoed again… louder… deeper… like it was coming from inside my head.
I tried to scream, but my voice refused to come out.
I felt my legs tremble. My chest tightened.
Everything around me began to spin.
“Michael!” I tried to call, but my lips barely moved.
Then suddenly; Everything went black.
I jerked up only to find myself on top the chair in our living room.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as though I had just been running for my life.
Sweat soaked my body.
My eyes darted around the house in confusion.
“What… what just happened?” I whispered, clutching my chest.
It was all a dream; and it felt too real. It felt too detailed. Too… impossible to be just a dream.
I quickly looked at the wall clock. It was 6:12am in the morning.
“Knock! Knock! Knock!” A sudden sound from the door.
“My love, please open the door.” That was my husband, Michael’s voice.
Exactly the same way it happened before.
At that moment, my heart skipped.
Fear crept in again.
Slowly… cautiously… I stood up and walked to the door.
When I opened it, there he was, standing right in front of me.
He looked normal and calm.
I searched his face intensely… like I was trying to confirm if he was real.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, slightly amused.
I didn’t answer.
My eyes dropped to his hands. But they were empty; there was no soap.
A wave of relief washed over me.
Maybe… all those soap stuffs had been a dream all along; It really was just a dream.
I stepped aside for him to enter.
He walked in casually, like nothing had ever happened.
No anger; no strange energy.
Later that afternoon, as usual, there was a knock on the door.
I already knew who it was; Benedicta.
But this time, my heart wasn’t calm.
When I opened the door, she stood there smiling.
“Vanessa, it’s time for our prayer meeting,” she said.
I stared at her.
Longer than necessary.
Her smile slowly faded.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I swallowed hard.
“Benedicta… have you ever told me that my husband goes to the river at night?” I asked carefully.
Her brows furrowed instantly.
“River? What river?” she replied.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
“You said… he goes there to sleep with another woman,” I added.
Her eyes widened.
“Vanessa, what are you talking about? I have never said such a thing to you before,” she said firmly.
At that moment, everything inside me went still.
My ears rang.
My mind raced.
If she never said it… Then how did I know?
Throughout that day, even till night came, I couldn’t stop thinking.
I lay on the bed, staring into the darkness.
Listening and waiting for my husband to leave the house.
But beside me, Michael slept peacefully.
Tears slowly rolled down my eyes.
I turned and looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Maybe… Just maybe…
The river was never outside.
Maybe it was inside me. Inside my fears. My doubts. My silence.
I had allowed suspicion to grow where communication should have lived.
I listened to a voice… But never confirmed the truth.
And somehow, that voice felt real enough to destroy everything.
I stood up and walked back to the bedroom.
Michael was awake now.
I sat beside him.
Gently.
“Michael…” I called softly.
He turned to look at me.
“Yes?”
I took a deep breath.
“When last did we really talk?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately. But the look in his eyes said everything.
Sometimes, the greatest destruction in a home doesn’t come from outside forces. But from silence and negative assumptions.
And maybe, from fears… And from the dangerous power of an unchecked imagination.
Because in the end…
The scariest place a person can get lost is not inside a river. But inside their own mind.
Real homes are not destroyed in one night; they fall apart quietly through silence, suspicion, and misplaced influence.
Vanessa teaches us that when we allow fear and imagination to replace honest communication, we can create problems that never existed;
Michael reminds us that emotional distance and secrecy, even when harmless, can plant seeds of doubt in the hearts of those we love; and Benedicta represents the danger of careless words and assumptions, because a single suggestion, presented as truth, can shake the foundation of a home.
In the end, the lesson is simple but powerful: verify before you believe, communicate before you conclude, and protect your relationship from external voices because not every whisper is truth, and not every fear deserves your trust.
THE END…
WHY MY HUSBAND VISITS THE RIVER WHENEVER I FALL ASLEEP AT NIGHT—EPISODE 7
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