I AM MANY

Chapter 11: Embracing the truth

I find myself back in the endless trap hole of darkness again; on my knees again; wailing out tears like an infant; again.

"Take your time child. Let those tears flow out, nothing cleanses the soul more than crying."

"That is all you have to say dad? After I've witnessed the worst holocaust in history, that's all?" I stand up shaking from head to toe, tears streaming down incessantly down my cheeks.

"You are him, Emmanuel. The body that houses the soul has changed, times have changed, but he continues to live within you. What would he have done if he were in your place? Dig deep and answer me" my old man stops and looks into my eyes making me retreat. I collect my thoughts.

"He put a bullet through his own head. That takes courage even for a man who has lost all will to live. He lost everything he had; his wife, daughter, millions of brothers and sisters and yet he showed the courage to go on." These words escaped my mouth without realization. "He would have gone on to fight another war against death. I simply do not have the appetite."

"A crisis of that magnitude will never caress you as Emmanuel Francis, yet you toy around with the gift of life. You lie in a coma on a hospital bed and talk of ending your life in this endless void" says dad.

"Yes. Yes I will end my life!" I scream. "It is my life and I will do whatever I want with it. What purpose do I have in this life, dad? Why should I return if I can stay with you here?"

"So if I pop the question again, will you go back or not?"

I stand silent, looking down.

"No."

"Death over a second chance at life?"

"Yes."

"I see."

Dad lets out a long sigh of disappointment.

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I felt warm water being poured on my face.

"It's time to wake up, Emmanuel."

"But it is dark outside. Let me sleep!"

The stream of water stopped and footsteps moved away from me, not human footsteps.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I let a dog piss on my face? I opened my eyes to stop the culprit wagging it's tail a few feet away. A stray. Blood rushed to my head in anger but then a perilous thought crossed my mind. Where am I?

I found myself lying on unkempt grass, a lamp post glowing in the distance. Long ghostly shadows surrounded me like emissaries of afterlife; shadows cast by rows of gravestones. How did I end up at a graveyard? Scared to death, I stood up in a hurry. My head hurt bad and I screamed out for help. Nobody responded and the dog started barking. I took my phone out of my pocket, 2:45 A.M.

"Hey there!" A silhouette with folded arms stepped out from the shadows.

"You? What are you doing here? What am I doing here?" confused and scared to my wit's end, I shot a bunch of questions at the younger Emmanuel Francis, my alter ego.

"South Park Street cemetery, built in 1767 for the earliest British pioneers of the East India Company" he replied in a dreamy voice laced with happiness. He appeared no less than a ghost, draped in all white, like a funeral attire. I felt the shivers looking at me, err him.