Bugs Bite

CHAPTER THREE: Face Your Demons

The man in black is here. The man in black is here. The man in black is here.

There was a momentary shock, quite understandable, on Raghu's face. Then one of the Boogies howled 'Show him, Rags!' and a sharp kick landed in the pit of Avish's stomach. Suddenly he was glad he skipped lunch.

He still kept a diminutive smile pasted on his face. He was confident the man in black would help him.

Only he didn't.

The Boogies seldom resorted to such violence as they did on that day. No other kid interfered, not until Avish had tears welled in his eyes from the volley of kicks and punches and insults thrown at him. After that a senior student, a prefect, appeared out of thin air and made the Boogies go away. She asked Avish if he was okay, if he needed to go to the medical-room (to which he answered that he was just fine, thank you very much). She asked Avish the names of the Boogies, said she would get them punished (to which he lied that he didn't know any of their names, that he was really perfectly fine, thank you very much).

And when Avish looked up next, there was no one near the towering tree.

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At home, Mom was concerned. Avish told her he fell down during PE, also that a ball hit him in the face, that there was nothing to be bothered about. That explained both the slowly developing bruises and his bloodied mouth.

But mothers are mothers, and a mother always knows.

Shweta applied a balm on his injuries - one on his jaw was especially bad, and would likely become all purplish and ugly by the next day - while Avish strived his best not to let the pain show.

He just didn't want to be a weasel. His Dad hated him being a weasel. He had to be a man, rough and gruff, like Dhruv always said.

He didn't know this yet, but Avish would grow to despise his father in the years to come.

But he was just a kid as of now. A kid who did not want his Dad to be mad or condescending.

So despite Mom's manifested concern, he wouldn't rat out. He was a brave kiddo.

He was also very, very pissed.

Infuriated, would be an apt word. At the man in black. What had he said?

I have been with you forever. Watching you. "Protecting" you.

Protecting me indeed, thought Avish.
He had no idea why he was so full of rage against a man he hadn't even been aware existed until the night before tonight. Had he actually started trusted the man? Funny, because he wasn't sure still if such a person - person, ghost, phantom, it was all the same to him - was real at all.

Yes. He guessed that explained it. The man must not be real, after all. He had always had an overactive imagination. Mom concurred. So he must've hallucinated the man that night. Had conversations with himself. Or maybe it had all been in a dream.

Then how do you explain the imprints on your face? enquired his brain.

I did that to myself in my sleep, he told his brain. Or in a make-believe encounter with a non-existent stranger.

Oh, really? Those impressions were long, Avish. Your fingers are shorter than a burnt candle. At this point, you're just lying to yourself.

'If he's real,' he whispered to nobody, 'why didn't he help me when I was getting beaten up? Why didn't he?'

Avish finally let the tears he'd been holding in for so long out now. Crying felt good. The tears felt good. Hot against his clammy cheeks.

At least as the droplets tumbled down onto his hands, he could be sure they were real.