Chapter 4 - The Aftermath

                                    

                                          
A long drawn nightmare was finally coming to an end. The arrival of the police had awoken the quiet neighborhood and the street was patterned with confused and curious onlookers. The police found it hard to believe that none of the residents had seen or heard anything. I, for one, was indignant. After all, my cries for help were not silent ones.
I had requested for my parents (though I wasn't a minor) and within the hour, they were by my side. My courage returned as I felt my mother's bustling energy and protective arm around me. I was enveloped with a warm blanket and I didn't even realize I was hungry until-
"Here. I made some soup."
My mother shoved a spoonful of hot soup down my throat. It suspiciously tasted like home made rasam to me and while I'd normally feel annoyance at being treated like a child, I didn't mind just then. 
"I'm going to speak to that officer now so we can leave." 
It was my father taking a lead on getting me out of this nightmare. I nodded feebly as he gave me a quick kiss on my forehead and strode away. 
Before my parents had arrived, my eyes had been plastered on one person - Mr. Burly. I'm not sure I understood it then, but my heart skipped a beat every time I thought he'd look at me. But he never did. Not once. It was as if he didn't want to speak to me. I had tried to grab his attention multiple times - I even feigned a fainting episode. Yet - nothing. 
He stood a little away from us now and was deep in conversation with two other men both of who were older than Mr. Burly (they could have been Mr. Burly's family!). It didn't seem like a very pleasant conversation from the dark look on their faces. My ears tried to tune into their conversation but the words were too quiet for me.
The mystery around him only intensified with every passing minute. There was an air of authority around the men he stood with but I didn't think they were cops - for one, they didn't wear the khakhi uniform. In fact, they all looked a lot like Mr. Burly (tall, fit, and maybe even good looking). They possessed an air of quiet commanding elegance which was a stark contrast to the noisy local police. 
The mystery of his resurrection continued to elude me but I was sure the answer was staring right at me. 
Vampire? He wasn't pale enough. As much as I adored vampire fictions and series, I knew I didn't want him to be one. 
Shaktimaan? (Indian superhero similar to DC's Superman). That was too far fetched
Alien? I didn't know him well enough to confirm. 
Secret Service agent? Now that seemed the most plausible. Maybe my intuition had not been so off about him. Clearly he hadn't stalked me just to return my phone. 
I frowned as the jigsaw puzzle in my brain swam around in crazy theories. I was confident that if I could speak to him, I could demand answers. Maybe that's why he was pointedly avoiding me. 
My mother's muttering brought me back to the present and I caught her casting dirty looks at a lower ranking policeman. I wasn't sure what she was unhappy about until I saw them carting away my back and it's content into the evidence box.
"That's it. They will make sure we never lay eyes on any of that ever again." She sounded angry and sad at the same time. I wanted to laugh - after everything that had happened, the bag was the last thing on my mind. 
"I wonder if dad is making any progress."
My mother sensed the tiredness in my voice. It had not been my favorite day and I really wanted to go back to the familiar home ground. Charged with this new project, my mother marched over to my father who was engaged in a conversation (or was it negotiation?) with another police officer. I was definitely the least of their problems and yet I hadn't been dismissed from the scene. For the most part, crowd control had suddenly (ironically even, considering how deserted the place had been) become the biggest problem for the police and it was only a matter of time before the media would catch a whiff of this juicy news. 
I found a dry corner and sat down with the now lukewarm soup in one hand and warm blanket clasped in the other. My mind egged me to continue my staring contest with Mr. Burly but I kept them firmly fixed on my parents. It took a lot of self discipline but since I was not making a headway with staring holes into Mr. Burly's back, it seemed best to leave him alone. 
It was another few minutes before my parents returned and the triumphant look on my mother's face told me that we could leave.
"I don't understand how the police work! They seemed so reluctant to let the victim in all of this go!" 
I didn't care. None of it mattered as far as we could leave. My infamous self discipline slipped and I looked back at the group of handsome men. My eyes locked with Mr. Burly for one brief powerful second but this time I looked away. I didn't know him and yet my emotions raged within.
Enough. 
We left. 
----------
The week that followed was constantly disrupted by the police. The tirade of questions was exhausting. Especially when all I wanted to do was forget everything. 
Oh and the media? They were all over it. The news channels were bringing forward the statistics on increasing crime rate and also linking the incident back to a few old cold cases. My identity as yet had not been relieved and I kept a low profile. I stayed indoors for most part. 
"Give it a week. It will all be over." 
That had been my dad's prediction. I was still waiting for the "all over" part. Oh and remember that study plan I had devised? I was making tremendous progress there! The shock of things that had transpired that day had caused the old procrastination to take a short vacation. My primary objective now was to keep my mind from wandering.
While I mastered controlling my waking hours, the vivid dreams incarcerated my mind every night. It was now a routine to wake up in cold sweat. I was too embarrassed to talk to my parents about it. After all, nothing had happened! No reason to overreact. My parents were already walking around me on eggshells - I didn't want to make it any worse. 
You know who had turned out to be my best friend? The 300  pages of mammoth Corporate Law! Don't mistake me - it was a wonderful book but was helping me in more ways than one. While in the day time, it kept my mind occupied, during the night it helped lull me back to sleep. I was hoping it would work again tonight. 
It took a little longer that night but after almost an hour, I felt the familiar heaviness in my eyes. With a smile, I slipped a little further into the warmth of my blanket. My hold on the book slacked and my eyes closed but just before I escaped into the nothingness, I heard a scratching sound. I frowned and wondered if I had already gone back into another nightmare but no - I heard it again. My eyes shot open - alert, wary and searching for the source. It seemed to be originating from the window and I swallowed. I could feel the heart rate rise and I looked around for a weapon before grabbing the massive law book once more. Wow - I was discovering how helpful these books were and almost felt guilty ignoring them for so long. 
A click. The window was unlocked and I almost screamed when the window opened. A head poked inside and I was just about to strike when the person looked up. 
"Sorry - did I wake you?"
I dropped the book. It was Mr. Burly.