Part 1 / DANIEL

beginningtoend (69)in #story • 8 years ago (edited)

The Story He Read Again And Again

Daniel / Part 1

I love reading and consume every word that's before me; especially stories that walk into shadows, have characters with flaws who struggle in life.

So this morning, when I found this old book tucked under my bed, a book that felt good in my hand and gave me the feeling I had read it before, I was excited to sit down and read it.

The first pages described an inadequate bedroom: a cast iron bed, white painted walls that looked like a troop of hooligan monkeys had carved it with knives; a small wooden table; and a door with a peephole that only looked in.

I knew it was my kind of story; especially as it went on to describe the main character, a delusional man known as Daniel.

I read on in silence only to find a hand written note. It was folded and stuck in between the ninth and tenth pages. It was written in a childish scrawl and read, “If you don’t love me, I can’t go on living, Daniel."

I concluded it was a prank by a previous reader. I mean think about it, a book about Daniel and a hand written note about Daniel within the same pages.

Anyway, I continued to read and by the time I reached page 32, I knew Daniel was a struggling writer trying to complete his first novel, that his big problem in life was having suicidal thoughts that came from a broken romance.

As I turned the next page there was a knock at my door, a slow uncertain knock that was looking to hide. It turned out to be a rather unassuming woman. She was looking at the ground until I opened the door, then her eyes raised and focused on me. She was cold and had her arms wrapped around her chest. She told me, “I’m looking for Daniel, I left him twenty year ago and now he torments me from a hollow he dug in my mind.”

I think I was laughing as I told her she had the wrong house. Then she surprised me by asking if I might be Daniel. I quickly answered, “No, I’m not Daniel…. I’m definitely not Daniel…. furthermore I don’t even like the name Daniel.”

She seemed disappointed then wrote her address on a small slip of paper. “My name is Elizabeth,” she said, “please give this to Daniel if he ever shows up.”

“It's not likely,” I said, “but OK, if that’s what you want”

I went back to reading, but my mind was jumping from Daniel the struggling author in my book, to Daniel in the suicide note, to Elizabeth who was looking for Daniel. I wondered if all these occurrences were a coincidence or if there was a connection?

I just didn't know.... and it made uncomfortable. I was particularly upset with the possibility that Daniel’s suicide note just might have been real……I could see Daniel in his room over-dosed on pills or hung by his neck in a cold tile shower.

So not knowing what else to do I called the police, to tell them my story and to ask if they could recall any old suicides that went by the name Daniel.

Of course the police thought I was crazy, but to appease me they said, "come to the station and file a report."

The station was two blocks away, a solid Bedford limestone structure, eroded and grey. I sat at a small wooden table. When I finished with the papers an officer placed them into a manila folder. I handed him the note that I found in the book. He tucked inside and labeled the folder, Uncertain case/Daniel Doe.

Then he said, “If this is all the information you have, I’m afraid there is nothing else we can do…. but please be assured, we have all your information if anything else should emerge.”