The Purpose

By Peter Davidson

In death, there is new life. A life of discovery to learn, grow, and to experience love and loss. A man's journey into the light, then into darkness, and from the darkness into the light. Where two people who are destined to be together, find each other in death. They are chosen to fulfil a shared purpose because of their hardships in life. Together they build a life, have a family find a sense of belonging and grow together. Then they Respond to a calling and to fulfil their purpose before undertaking a journey of forgiveness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Davidson
• Release date: Nov 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201940249

Peter Davidson

Peter Davidson is a freelance writer and has been, among other things, a restorer of antiquities from around the world, a writer and director of documentaries on World War II and related subjects for the History Channel, and a tutor on the Politics, Philosophy and History degree at Birkbeck College, University of London. He is the co-author of Milestones of Civilization.

Book preview

Premise

Imagine there is life after death?

A journey through life to fulfil a purpose.

Finding a belonging through family and helping others.

To listen and follow an obligation and submit to a higher power.

To find forgiveness to where the end is only the beginning.

Outline

In death, there is new life. A life of discovery to learn, grow, and to experience love and loss.

A man's journey into the light, then into darkness, and from the darkness into the light. Where two people who are destined to be together, find each other in death. They are chosen to fulfil a shared purpose because of their hardships in life.

Together they build a life, have a family find a sense of belonging and grow together.

Then Respond to a calling and to fulfil their purpose before undertaking a journey of forgiveness.

Chapter One:

Beginnings

George was an old man in his mid-eighties. His face was gaunt and pale, shaped roughly like an elongated circle from forehead to chin. He had tired-looking eyes and aged white hair.

His hair was unkempt, his appearance was dishevelled, further exacerbated by his position; his stocky body frame was slumped to the left as he sat up in bed, holding a look of depression and hopelessness on his face.

The room he was in was untidy, with newspapers stacked to the left of the bed. There was clutter around a small table adjacent to the stack of papers.

There was a half-light coming in through the window on the left-hand side of the room, with the curtains partly drawn to a close allowing only scattered light into the room.

It was either dawn or dusk, it did not really matter to George as he had lost track of the days and nights. Each day was more or less the same and he existed mostly in that room; not really living, just existing there as he waited to die.

In such a situation with George's debilitating condition, and deteriorating health, there was little George could do for himself as he was paralysed below the waist and all down the right side of his body; he could only move his left arm. Though his movement and the tasks he could do for himself were very limited. Mostly he had to rely on carers for almost everything, such as going to the toilet, washing, turning the bed and preparing meals.

Though, George was often left neglected and ignored by the care staff. He was rarely taken outside and he hated having the curtains open, meaning he did not get much sun which was why his skin was so pale.

He had spent most of his life in different care facilities and eventually grew bitter and hostile towards those who had to care for him. Often he would swear and shout at the carers, telling them he hated them and demanding they go away from him.

George was frustrated because of his situation. He felt powerless and useless like he was nothing, and had long wished to just be left to die. He was miserable and made sure to take out his frustrations on other people whenever he could; he was in the mind that they should also feel his pain so they would understand his situation.

Over the years, the care staff in the various care facilities had grown accustomed to George's behaviour and had just learned to tolerate it. Though as he got older he realised they were less inclined to care and were far less tolerant of his abusive behaviour and attitude towards them.

It was not always like this though, George was once a happy and outgoing child. He loved life and often went exploring with his friends; who he was as a child was a stark contrast to who he had become later in life.

What had altered George's perception of life was a traumatic event that occurred when he was nine years old. This horrific experience was what had drastically changed his life forever. This moment in time marked the loss of his innocence and boyhood, where his life view became permanently framed around that one fateful night.

Seventy-Six years ago George's parents were driving home one night after visiting relatives in a nearby town; he had not long celebrated his 9th birthday and had spent the weekend with his parents at his uncle's house.

His parents had driven quite some distance already and were approaching an intersection where the lighting was moderate. But George's father moved across the intersection with caution as visibility was limited beyond the street lights. Luckily he was able to safely pass the intersection; he sighed with relief and carried on along the road ahead.

As George's parents headed further down the road, the street lights slowly faded away in the distance. The road ahead was dark and empty, with no signs of other vehicles in sight.

After a few moments driving down the dark road, a distant light appeared somewhere up ahead, which grew brighter as it came closer; it was too hard to see what vehicle was ahead, the lights were at full beam which caused George's father to brake hard and stop in the road.

There was a sudden moment of panic, as George's father attempted to manoeuvre further to the right to get out of the road. Though, his efforts were in vain as the oncoming vehicle had continued to veer into the path of the car, resulting in a head-on collision that had caused the car to flip into the air. Then suddenly at the moment of impact, it seemed as though everything had slowed down; as the moment of the crash played out in slow motion with the twisting of metal and plastic and the shattering of glass all around.

George was wearing an older style seatbelt that was strapped around the waist and not over the shoulder. Which had caused George to be jerked violently forward and then thrown to the right in quick succession during the moment of impact. There was a moment of intense pain in his lower back as the scene of the crash played out, but faded away as his mind frame was forced to live through that moment of the crash playing out in slow motion.

The car finally crashed down onto a bank on the side of the road, then proceeded to roll several times before coming to a stop in a ditch in an overturned position.

He lay there phasing in and out of consciousness with a loud ringing in his ears. The car had been overturned, and in his position, he could see shattered glass and debris just above him; he had been suspended from the seat above by the seatbelt that had remained firmly in place.

It all felt so surreal as his mind came to focus momentarily; all he could think about at that time was his parents and with one arm outstretched he reached towards them in the seats ahead and tried to call to them before losing consciousness.

At the moment of awakening, he realised he could not move and called to help. When a nurse finally came and calmed him down, he cried out for his mother and father and asked to see them. Though, the nurse was reluctant to respond and asked him to remain calm, telling him that he needed to rest.

He remembered that he wanted to get out of bed and run to his parents. But he could only move his left arm and flapped it around in a panic as he tried to move from the bed without avail; he felt powerless and eventually gave up after a few minutes due to sheer exhaustion. Other nurses and a Dr had come into the room to try and restrain him to prevent him from causing himself further harm.

After a few days when the Dr's were sure he was stable enough, they told him he had been in a coma for a year. They paused momentarily as George's young mind grappled with that reality. Though, he quickly switched focus and demanded to see his parents; at that moment all he could think of was them! George just wanted to go home and be with his family.

It was then that George's world fell down and he felt everything spinning around him as they told him that his parents had died in the car accident that night a year ago when a truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and drove into his parent's car. At that moment he fell silent and into shock, shaking uncontrollably before sobbing; shaking his head and refusing to accept the truth.

Not only had George been told he was paralysed, and that he had lost his parents. He soon discovered that his aunt and uncle had abandoned him as well because they did not want the burden of caring for a crippled child.

These were memories that haunted George to this day; it was the start of the twisting inside of him, what would make him bitter and hostile towards others for the rest of his life.

It became the reason he had developed habits of abuse towards other people and an overwhelming feeling of abandonment and hopelessness.

Most days he sat in his bed thinking about those traumatic events from his childhood. Obsessing over them day in and day out, often waking up in the night screaming from these very vivid and traumatic nightmares. There was little the care staff could do to help him though, other than medicate him during the night to calm the night terrors that haunted him.

This was just the life that he had to accept. It was his own behaviour and attitude towards others had left him in a position of further abandonment; the neglect he faced was directly related to nurses and carers actively avoiding contact with George as much as they could.

Though, the carers still had to come twice every day to bring George food and drink and, take care of his other personal hygiene needs. However, George was completely against being fed like a baby and battled with his only working arm and hand to feed himself.

George's health had eventually reached a point where it was in rapid decline. He had stopped reading and feeding himself; it seemed as though he was just too tired to do anything.

One day he woke up suddenly and was having difficulty breathing. Weakly he tried to pull himself towards the left side of the bed to reach the call button. He pressed the button many times over a period of time what seemed like forever.

Yet, despite his current condition, the careers did not come to his aide. His breaths became shorter and he started to feel very drowsy and phased in and out of consciousness. It was not possible to shout out for help either, as George could not draw a breath to even speak.

George had not really cared about his life, but at this moment as his life was coming to an end he started to fight to survive. He then wondered, why suddenly now did he not want to go after wanting it for so many years!

He was filled with regrets and tried to weakly reach for the call button again. Though, he was not able to lift his hand to press the button; he was phasing in and out of consciousness. Each time the periods of unconsciousness seemed to become longer as he fought to his last breath to survive. Then he called out in his mind to anyone or anything that could hear him, and begged for a chance to live; he pleaded to be forgiven and said that he would live a different life and be better.

Though, it seemed as though his pleading had yielded nothing, as his body had ceased to function. It was at that time that he faded away into the long slumber of death and everything went dark around him as he faded away...

Chapter Two:

Awakenings

First Person View:

Where am I? It's so dark, why is it so dark? Hard to breathe, hard to move. What's going on? Help me!

[Struggles to move arms and legs around; seemingly enclosed in a confined and cold space].

Why can't I move? Help me please; somebody please help me!

[Bangs arms and legs loudly on the sides of the enclosure]

What's going on, where am I?

[Thinking to self]

Help, for damn sake some please help me!

[shouting out in despair]

Footsteps, wait, I hear footsteps.

[Thinking to self]

Help me! I am trapped, help me please, help me!

[Shouting louder to be heard, whilst banging on the sides of the enclosure]

Third Person View:

Something opened up in front with a dim faded light ahead of view, followed by a sudden jolt forward out of the enclosure. Somebody standing to the side asking in a firm tone:

What the hell is going on?.

Whoever was just pulled out of the enclosure was not able to see who the person standing next to them was at first glance, as their eyes were still adjusting to the light.

Though the light was dim which enabled their sight to improve and their vision to come into focus, just managing to make out the outline of the person standing next to them.

A man was standing there with a perplexed and somewhat confused expression on his face. He was wearing a white coat of some sort with his arms folded and appeared to be angry whilst expressing a facial expression that reflected that. He boldly made the assumption that it was some sort of stupid college prank and demanded that they leave immediately.

Though, whoever was pulled out of the enclosure did not know where they were, or even who they are; they sat up and looked down at their hands, but didn't recognise them as everything seemed so unfamiliar!

Second Person View:

This is a morgue! You damn college kids think this is funny, you could have died in there! Just get out of my sight and tell your friends not to pull this nonsense in my morgue again.

Third Person View:

The person who was just pulled from the enclosure was a male. He looked around, scared, confused and unable to fully grasp the situation he was in. Though, he did not have time to come to his senses as he was abruptly taken by the arm by the coroner and pulled off what he was sitting on, causing him to flop down hard on the floor in a heaped position.

He reached upwards towards the coroner asking for help, but the coroner just folded his arms believing he was still being pranked. There was a struggle as he attempted to clamber to his feet, falling a few times and struggling to walk. The coroner was unsympathetic and abruptly left and demanded:

You had better be gone by the time I return!.

After five minutes of stumbling around, he finally clambered to his feet, on shaky legs he stumbled around holding onto various things trying to head towards a doorway of the room.

There was a white lab coat on a stand near the door. He had no clothes and was cold and took the coat. There was a name badge on the coat that read:

Chris Stevens - Coroner..

As he went to leave the room, he glanced back to see a large metal type draw that he had been laying on. It was slid out from a row of other metal draws on the wall to his right; it was a dull and eerie room that stank of death with a metal table to his left and other strange instruments. This was a room he was anxious to get out of and tried to leave as quickly as he could.

On the way down a long corridor, he saw a small room to his left, there was a name on the door which read: Chris Stevens - Coroner.. It's the same name as the one on the name badge on the white coat he was wearing. He decides to go inside and look for something else to wear.

Beyond the door was a small office, there was a desk directly in front of him with a chair behind it, there was also a small chair to the left of him with a pile of clothes slumped on the back. He moved quickly towards the chair and then proceeded to put on the pair of trousers and shirt that are there, followed by a jacket. However, the clothes were a little too big for him, and so he looked around for something to tie the trousers as the belt was too long.

He found something on the desk and tied up the trousers he was wearing. To the left of the desk not far away from the chair were a pair of shoes; they didn't fit well either, as they were of a slightly smaller size but they could still be worn.

On the desk to the right of him, he saw a half-eaten sandwich on a small plate and an unfinished can of soda. Which, he did not hesitate to eat and drink as he was feeling rather hungry and thirsty by that time.

After he had finished eating the sandwich and drinking the soda, he headed back out of the office and into the long corridor. The only thing on his mind at that time was getting out of that place and tried to guess which way he needed to go as there were two doors at either end of the long corridor; one was for an elevator.

He turned to his left and headed to the door at the end. After going through the door, he found himself in a stairwell and a sign ahead read Basement. Somehow, he had the inclination to go up and ascended the stairs to the ground floor. Upon opening the door on the ground floor, there was a release of light directly ahead, he squinted for a few moments with the brighter light emanating from a nearby light source just ahead.

He was faced with a small square waiting room that had a series of chairs around it. There was also a closed-door directly ahead and a reception desk to the left adjacent to a small door that lead to another corridor running in parallel with another part of the Reception desk.

A woman was in the small corridor that he believed led to an exit. She was talking with a raised and annoying tone:

Who are you? Did you sign the register as a visitor?

Though this woman was annoying and the only thing he wanted to do was get out of that place. So, he ignored her and left quickly through the exit at the end; of course, she was rather confused and annoyed but assumed he was just a homeless person who wandered in from the street.

Upon exiting the building, he entered onto a street where there were a series of cars parked down both sides. There were also several cars driving in both directions along the street.

He was momentarily dazed and tried to adjust to the noise and surroundings as he gained some composure. Some people were walking past him as well, who he tried to stop and ask for help. Most of them were rude and ignored him, quickly walking on almost seeming bothered by him even asking.

Somebody finally stopped though, and she told him that he was at the city mortuary. She had vibrant black hair, where her hair dipped at her forehead creating a heart shape around her face with a widening at the top and a narrowing at the bottom. Her body shape was slender, and she was fairly tall for a woman, as she appeared to be in her mid 20's.

This woman stopped for a moment as she glanced towards him and noticed the clothing he was wearing did not fit him well. She smiled towards him and then asked if he was ok. He stuttered and told her that he was lost and did not know where he was.

Subsequently, the woman smiled towards him again and thrust her hand forward to introduce herself:

Hi, I'm Jasmine!.

To which there was only silence in response. She then smiled again and said:

You are supposed to say your name honey..

There was a sudden confused reaction from him as he tried to think of how to respond. Though, he did not know his own name, or even who he was. All he had to draw from was his experience waking up in the Morgue to that rude Coroner Chris Stevens.

A thought flashes across his mind, causing him to abruptly respond:

Sorry, my name's Chris.

As he thrust his hand forward to shake her hand. They shook hands briefly and Jasmine told him:

It's nice to meet you Chris!

As she returned a smile. He grinned and told her:

Likewise, Jasmine!.

Following on from their introduction, Jasmine assumed that Chris might be homeless; given his shabby appearance as a result of wearing baggy clothing. To which she then asked Chris if he had a place to stay?

Chris looked around and shook his head; he still had no clue where he was, or where he came from. Which left him feeling somewhat lost for words. Though, Jasmine smiled towards him again and told him there was a homeless shelter not far from there.

Jasmine was kind and offered to help show him the way to the homeless shelter, despite not actually knowing Chris; he was a complete stranger to her. Yet, her personality was open and friendly, she was a woman who fearlessly offered to help those in need.

Of course, Chris was very appreciative and thankful for the help that she was offering him and expressed his thanks to her. She smiled towards Chris again as she told him to follow her, then started walking towards the direction of the homeless shelter.

When they arrived at the homeless shelter, they said their goodbyes and parted ways. Jasmine turned back momentarily and said:

I will see you around Chris.

Then smiled as she turned back around and walked away.

There was somewhat a sense of relief from Chris as he gazed up at the building of the homeless shelter, for he now had a place to stay.

Though he still had to find out who he was, and even his real name. It was impossible to just live without a name. Though, he had sorta already chosen a name when he introduced himself to Jasmine as Chris.

Therefore, he could identify with the name Chris Stevens, as this name seemed to fit him well; or rather it was the first name he came across when he woke up in that morgue.

Moments later Chris was brought back into focus as somebody spoke to him:

Welcome to St Augustine's..

Prompting him to head towards the shelter.

As he sheepishly approached the building ahead, there was a large archway at the entrance where there were two people who stood to greet passers-by and the homeless coming into the shelter.

One of them moved forward towards Chris and positioned his hands in a welcoming way to show that Chris he was welcome to come inside; the other man voiced his welcome and said:

Please come inside..

Chris was weary as everything around him was unfamiliar, though he proceeded inside anyway as he did not have anywhere else he could go. Yet, he was soon stopped just past the main doors by an unwelcoming woman, who snappily asked to search him for any dangerous items or drugs. To which he complied and let her search him for the prohibited items.

But, after being searched she barked some rules at him:

There is a zero-tolerance policy to violence and abuse at this shelter. Follow the rules, or you will be asked to leave!

Followed by:

Do you understand?.

To which Chris just nodded his head and waited for her to finish.

A few moments later another man approached him. He was likely aged around his late 50's with only a few wisps of hair on his balding head. His face was rounded, with traces of stubble. Though he was fairly tall, around 6ft in height