Excerpt: Memoirs of Daniel

He refused to tell me his story. I had been sat there for three hours, watching his eyes dart around the room, listening to the uneven breathing he exhausts. At one point, I threw my pen across the room. It did not do any good, however, he just flicked his eyes to me and looked away pointedly. It is rather annoying, having a million words to write about him, but wanting to know his side of the story. He promised that it is an epic tale, but produced no sort of recount; no unwinding tale, no sordid affairs – nothing.

The story of Daniel is supposed to be one of suffering and forgiveness. So far, all he has said is ‘hello’ and ‘do you have any tea?’ Maybe he is sad about everything that he has done. Or, perhaps, he cannot remember as well as I would have hoped. But, when I asked him for this interview, he promised me a wealth of scandal, hopelessness, and saving graces but, more importantly, a whole parade of characters that I could play around with.

Nothing at all has come from this three hour-long meeting. Not even a beginning paragraph, something fancy to start out with. Instead, I’m sat here watching him, annoyed by him. I want a story – something to tell the grandkids one day.

After sitting for another two hours, making my total five – nearly a full work day for me – he finally opens his mouth. His voice, raw and monotonous, speaks clearly. Daniel reiterates that this interview is not to be slanderous towards him in any way. So obvious to me, he is ashamed. As, most of us agree, he should be.

“I was born,” he murmurs quietly. “Ironic, is it not? I was born and I can never die.”

I sit silent, more engrossed with his actions than before. His eyes, which refused to meet mine previously, bore into mine and I was filled with a sense of being scanned by a psychic. As if he was reaching into the depths of me to determine some answer I had not been asked a question for.

“He made me,” he continues after sipping a bit of his tea, “He created me so that I could bring his people back to him. And even before He made me, he had a plan.”

He, I assumed, would be God, the almighty, the Alpha and Omega, Jehovah, Yahweh, Allah – the Lord. But, I could not question him as I wanted to: ‘why did He create you, if He knew what you were to become?’ ‘Did you fall off the path that He laid out for you?’ No, I would have to wait.

“The day that I was born from Him was the first day I remember questioning everything around me.” His eyes finally left mine and I was thankful. Daniel had a way of making me uncomfortable – I have no secrets…that I know of. “My brothers regarded my questions as a lack of faith in the divine plan. He regarded them as free will.”

Free will, I thought as I stared at him. Something we so proudly express today in any way that we can. We exploit it, because we are allowed.