Pastor Kganya wiped his dripping-wet face with his handkerchief. He was profusely sweating from preaching and praying for the congregation. “Now, as you may all know”, he expressed with a hoarse voice in the microphone, evidently from the constant shouting that he’d done during the service, “my son, Zion, has also been bestowed the gift of prophecy by the Lord, over His people.” He says this with a huge smile on his face. In his eyes is a clear picture of a man filled with pride. “He is here today, as a servant to the Almighty, my brethren. Zion, please come over here. Stand right here, next to your father.

I sigh, as I stand up and walk over to the podium. I stand next to my father, who immediately puts his hand on my left shoulder and pulls me close. “This young man right here is the fruit of my loins. He has been chosen by the Lord, to lead his fellow breather to the righteous path.” He looks at me with his broad pride-filled smile. I reciprocate, forcing a big smile.

Ever since I started having this ability to prophesy over people, my father dedicated his time to me, or to be more accurate, my prophetic abilities. He made it his mission to nurture and perfect this ‘gift’ that I’ve received from heaven, teaching me how to interpret people’s dreams without fail. He was a true perfectionist.

“Now, all of you who need divine intervention, who feel that they need an answer from above, come forward so that my son can prophesy over your life”, my father said. Slowly, some of them started to shuffle to the front, all forming a line. One of the ushers came and held a mic to my face.

A woman, who looked to be in her thirties, was first in line. I took one glance at her, noticing her red bloodshot eyes. I could already tell that she had been going through a lot of turmoil. She was losing it. Perhaps she was looking to find salvation.

I breathe in deeply and laid my hands on her head. I closed my eyes, deeply immersing myself in her subconscious. Her dream plays in my head like a high-quality Hollywood short film.

“I see a bright light”, I began, “and out of the light steps a beautiful being with wings. A magnificent angel”

She instantly hides her face with her hands and starts to sob softly. “It’s true”, she confirms, speaking into the mic held in front of her by another usher “I have been seeing him in my dreams”.

The congregation started clapping in awe and admiration.

I breathe in deeply, before going further..”You’ve been having a difficult time lately. The angel’s visit was a sign. Your breakthrough is near. Be ready.”

Everyone clapped again as she dropped to her knees and burst into tears. She began to laugh hysterically, relieved that everything was coming to an end. Ushers came by to help her stand up. One of them handed her a bottle of water and carried her off.

Next came a young boy, in his late teens. Usually, youngsters like him come in with a bunch of documents: resumes, certificates, and ID copies that would be prayed for, in hopes of getting a job. This one, however, just came up tugging at the crucifix hanging from his neck. He was unaccompanied. No parents, relatives, or friends. He looked weary, in desperate need of sleep. I had an uneasy feeling about him.

I laid my hands on him, and instantly I could see into his subconscious. He was laying down on his bed. His heart was racing and was struggling to move. He seemed paralyzed. He was looking at something. A dark figure. The figure revealed a row of sharp, jagged teeth, and ran up to him. It opened its mouth wide and…

My head rocked violently and I staggered backward. The usher holding the mic caught me just in time, keeping me from falling down.