The building he died in,
the room he died in,
the very bed he took his last breath in,
they're all mine now.
I now own them.
I wanted to see it.
So I took the trip.
My men were with me.
I told them to stay outside.
I'm a very spiritual person.
I knew what waited inside.
But I was brave enough to go in.
I did not choose to do this out of curiosity.
My ancestors have seen these things,
have written about them.
And have passed them through my lineage.
Some may choose to ignore them,
think them fairytale.
But I know they're real.
My grandmother is 102 tomorrow.
It's not something we talk about just to entertain ourselves.
It's something she has lived.
It's a terrible thing we know, yes.
Therefore, I made them wait outside.
Only I would go.
If you go to a place like Haiti and speak to any elder over eighty, you understand why my men should wait outside and only I should go.
They weren't prepared for what's behind that door.
I wasn't fully prepared either and I've long known.
So in I went.
The room was silent.
Usually, these are not perceived with the 5 sense.
To be seen, you must have a strong spiritual sense.
Which they can detect.
Only then do the Unseen show themselves, reluctantly.
No point in hiding from one who sees differently.
To say I wasn't afraid would be a lie.
It was scary.
But Grandma said show fear and you die.
They tried.
I walked around, with careful steps, through broken glass;
never looking any of them directly in the eye.
They watched me, with profound sense of curiosity, surprise, maybe.
The room was a mess, a horrible place to die for anybody.
Blood-stained sheets.
Feces.
A crime occurred here.
Everywhere you looked the signs you could see.
And how brazen they are, the perpetrators are still here, would not leave.
No arrests have been made—
which of us has power to officiate? 102, maybe.
I had to be very careful in their presence.
They're leeches.
Always needing a host for the feeding.
They tried.
To get in.
Oh, they tried.
But that's why I ordered my men to wait outside.
You must have a strong spiritual side.
It took all the energy I had,
to show no fear.
And as the door closed behind me,
a sigh of relief.
Grandma was right.
Like her, I've seen.
My first test of Life vs. Death.
Of facing the other side.
102 and how many battles, how many tests.
How many times had she warned it's the Spirit not the Flesh?
"Grandma is always right.
I'm not there yet."
I did not go in of out mere curiosity.
I wanted to know whether I was ready.
Not yet, Granny.
For when the door closed behind me, the men downstairs could hear my heart beat.
I survived them, barely.
He wasn't half the person I am, spiritually.
And quite insignificant compared to Granny.
A closed casket made sense.
For the horrors he endure in that room no one should see.
A faceless Dead, He.
