17 1.14 — Interrogation

Yup. One word. That’s all he said.

Apparently, I didn’t expect that too which is why I had a dumb look on my face.

In those fifteen minutes, I could have clearly thought of atleast some reason or explanation but no! I instead decided to spend that time being scared and thinking of Divya and weird assed dream animals!

Then again, that does sound like something I would do so I’m being very in-character right now.

I tried to come up with some impromptu explanations but managed to shoot them all down.

I was at a friend's house? No, doesn’t explain me not picking up the phone;

I was kidnapped? Doesn’t explain why he’s talking to me and not the kidnapper…unless I escaped—which I technically did—but then why didn’t I wake him up at night? Argh! Why did he have to be a policeman? Couldn’t he have just been some grocery store owner?!

Oh, oh! I can say my cycle broke down! But no, wait, the distance isn’t long enough for me to take this much time to get back home…

And shit biscuits! The Cycle! I need to get the cycle back!

...Yeah, it’s not fun being in my head, eh? Sorry.

Gotta say though, I’m impressed that I thought all of this in just a second.

‘Pause!

Future Aarav here to tell you that no, I did not think of all that in just one second. I was literally just staring at the newspaper with a dumbfounded expression for straight ten minutes…my uncle thought I had somehow broken down there.

I am, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out, an idiot…

Unpause!’

I must say, I am—and not to toot my own horn here—a genius.

“…you okay there, Aarav?” My uncle said as I lifted my gaze back to him from the newspaper. “Is the article on a missing kid that much more interesting than what we’re talking about here?”

“Um…no?” I said unsure. Was I staring at the paper? For how long?!

“Good, your mouth works. Maybe it could work to give me an excuse too,” he said but after a minute of staring at me and my limp mouth, he simply sighed.

I knew that sigh well enough.

I hated to be the cause of that sigh.

That sigh of disappointment.

“Look, I know you’re not a kid anymore. You’re a teen and you want to be a bit rebellious. To be honest, I’m glad to see you behave…normal.” Wait-a-what now? What the fudge is that supposed to mean? “No, no, I…I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just, you’re always so quiet and you don’t really bring a lot of friends home—”

“I’ve brought friends home...once or twice.”

“I meant more than once or twice.”

“Well um...yes, Idris! He’s been here multiple times since we were kids.”

“Yes look, that’s not what I exactly meant. I’d just prefer you to be more…outgoing.”

“Oh, outgoing, okay, that makes sense, sure. Hey, you know what, the next time you arrest a bunch of kids doing drugs, be assured to find me in that group. Heck, I’ll be the one that’s selling those drugs. I’ll be the kid with white hair, hard to miss. I really hope you’ll be proud of me then.”

Okay, yes, I know I just exaggerated and twisted what he actually meant but a lecture on me not being more of an extrovert was not what I wanted to hear the first thing in the morning.

Disappointment filled lecture on responsibilities, I can bear. But you attack me for being an introvert, you’re gonna get burnt.

Plus, he knows I only jest.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” See? He knows me. “I was a teenager too, you know—”

“Really? You don’t say.”

“—And, Me and your father never needed drugs or alcohol to have a good time,” he said with a smile, nostalgia washing over him.

A nostalgia that he quickly stripped away. He always did that whenever he mentioned my father.

And I get why he does it.

I really do.

He probably thought that mentioning the death of my father, of my parents, would just bring me pain and sadness.

Not that he was wrong to think that, you know?

Not truly, atleast.

I was six when the accident happened. The memories I had shared with my parents were all a bunch of mess, covered with haze and confusion. Sweet and fun and happiness, but blurred nonetheless.

Not that it helped. I was still sad, still angry. Even those hazy memories brought pain to me. And that still happened. And I doubt it would ever go away.

But, and I don’t know when or if it was a single overnight thing, I was suddenly…okay? Not sure if that was the right way to describe the feeling.

As I said, I still felt that loss. Still felt that pain, that void in my heart. Still felt that regret. But now it’s like that void had just...filled up. Not completely, obviously. But still, it was a step in the right direction. One of acceptance.

I hope.

Problem was, while it might seem that I had moved on, my uncle clearly hadn’t.

“…It would have been fun,” I said with a smile, trying to break the silence, “to have a brother or a sister.”

“Yes, it would have,” Uncle said, and then started laughing, “Would’ve made my life even more difficult though.” He took the empty cup and got up.

I tried to get it from him, to make up for my mistake by helping out a little but he was the sort of man that liked to do his own dishes—baring punishments. That’s what he had taught me too. I guess the punishment time was over, huh. That went well.

Watching him wash the cup and the empty plate of breakfast, it felt oddly satisfying. No, relaxing.

I might not have a real father anymore but my uncle wasn’t that far from being one for me.

“I’m sorry, kaka, God promise, I won’t do this again, ever,” I said, pinching my neck under the chin, trying my utmost best to show the regret in my voice, not that it was hard to do. I really did feel bad.

“Its fine,” he said, shaking off the water and wiping his hands, “as long as you know what you did was wrong. I will have to take away your TV privileges for atleast a week though,” Eh that’s fine. I anyways watched shows on Netflix that me and my friends shared, which could be accessed by my laptop too, “And that includes Netflix too.”

Dammit!

Oh well, it still ended up going down a lot better than how I imagined it to go.

I made my way to go up to my room to have a shower.

Assuming my cycle was still near the park, abandoned and not taken by anyone else—or harvested for parts…if that was a thing that happened—I would still have to take the long route just to retrieve it.

Ugh, I will have to use my legs.

Maybe my dream was a premonition. Maybe it meant that I’d have to run to get to a girl.

…now I wonder if that’s worth it.

Don’t get me wrong, the possibility of not being single is extremely enticing but I don’t know if I wanna run for it.

Guess I’m too used to cycling. You know, I might be good at running, but I sure as hell don’t like doing it.

“Aarav,” my uncle called out.

Okay. Toughen up, boy. Here it comes. More punishment. The actual punishment. That has to be it. Ofcourse what happened back then was too easy. With cautious steps once again, I came back down. “Where’s the cycle?” he asked.