Hello? It’s me. Open the door; I want to come in.
I figure I need to will myself inside the house; I have been out here for a long time, or so it seems. The sun is coming up now. I must will myself inside now.
I am in. I see Habbib’s little brothers and sisters; they all sleep under blankets around the floor.… Wow, they look so strange. Some of them are outside their bodies, too, floating but I don’t sense that they are dead like me, but they are not inside their bodies either.… Ah, there’s a white cord coming out from their souls, connecting them to their bodies; that’s what keeps them alive. It’s a shiny silver color.
So that’s what people look like when they dream.
Habbib’s parents are asleep on the table.… Oh, I see me now.… They have done a great job. I lay on the floor wrapped in a white sheet; I look like a pharaoh from ancient Egypt. They have done a good job. The wraps hold my jaw together so my mouth will not open; they have concealed the gash on my throat and they have put cotton inside my nostrils.
There is one gold coin on top of each eyelid: they have paid my fare to the other world.
Thank you, friends. You have given me my dignity back.
I wait there next to my body. People around me start to wake up. My good friend Habbib cried himself to sleep the night before; I see that. He wakes up and begins to cry on top of me; he embraces me like only a brother would. My wraps are getting wet from his tears.
Don’t cry. I am here with you. I am sorry. I didn’t hear them come in.… Please forgive me.
Only the youngest children will eat breakfast or lunch. No one else feels like eating; they mourn my death. I can’t hear very well what they say; their voices are muffled. I can’t understand well. I see them arguing over something.
Don’t seek revenge.
Time goes by—people come and go. People from other places come to see me; some of them I don’t recognize but they pay their respects anyway.
I am beginning to feel bored again. My face is turning a dark color down there.
Mikael where are you?
Night falls. I am still bored. They need to do something with my body or I will start decomposing in my friend’s home. I don’t want that. It’s embarrassing.
I was born in Africa; bury me here.
Another night and I see the souls coming out of their bodies as people sleep in the house.
Habbib, can you hear me? Habbib!
His soul is looking at me; he sees me! I will myself forward to where his soul is.
Habbib, it’s me.
“It can’t be.”
It can; this is a dream. Please don’t cry anymore over me, little man.
“I miss you so much.”
I will always be with you.
“Those men killed you.”
It was nobody’s fault; believe me.
“I will avenge your death.”
No, no need for that. Don’t tell my brother who did this.
“Everyone knows who did it.”
He must not find out.
“I feel so much pain; it is just like when the baby died.”
I am fine. Can you smell this?
“What is it?”
Jasmine.
“Is that your essence?”
It is. He must not find out.
“Does it hurt to be dead?”
It doesn’t now. He must not find out.
“Will I ever see you again?”
You will, in your dreams. Don’t miss me.
