EMMANUEL'S BLOG

You will recall that in the last piece of my story I recounted my encounters in my first school; I talked about my initial gatherings with a kid who looked and carried on as I did – whose name was even equivalent to mine: William Wilson. I recounted the night when I went to Wilson's room, with an arrangement to hurt him. What I saw that night so alarmed me that I left the room and the school until the end of time. As I stood looking down at his dozing structure and face, I may have been taking a gander at myself in a mirror. It dislikes this — without a dislike this — that he showed up in the daytime. A similar name, a similar face, a similar body, that day of coming to class! And after that his utilization of my method for strolling, my way of talking! Is it true that it was, in truth, humanly conceivable that what I presently observed was the outcome and the outcome just — of his proceeded with endeavours to resemble me? Apprehensive, I left the old school and never enter...