Sunday, October 11, 2015

The Ugly Introduction

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 56; the fifty-sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.

The Ugly Introduction

He felt his body stiffening. He stood up with a jerk, the chair falling back and hurried to the bedroom. He could hear her calling as the door banged behind him. In the dark, his shivering body slipped down to the floor. No matter how hard he tried to hold himself together, the eyes that gleamed from the commercial had once again cracked opened the door of abyss. As his body sweated profusely and black and white screens flashed slow and fast, he shut his eyes tight trying to control its progress. Stopping himself from screaming, he turned himself into a tight ball. It was uncontrollable and unbearable as the eyes appeared from everywhere. His mind had stopped except for a desperate wish to reverse ... 

Andy looked at the watch, it was 1 am, never had he been out so late. He prayed to get the last train while he lazily stepped down the stairs into the underground train station. It was his daily routine but the change of hour, the empty passage and the silence transformed the environment into a far away and rather unpleasant setting. His body was tense, perhaps sensing something unnatural, when he heard someone laughing, some men, in between there were cries of appeal and threats. This sound was of woman. He stopped and peeped, hiding behind a pillar. The platform was almost dark but the flickering halogen threw light to the scene with sinister intentions.

He saw a woman shoved to the platform floor. There were four young men surrounding her in a circle. Three of them looking at her with their backs to him and one on the other side frisking a bag. Andy shuddered at the gruesomeness of the reality before him. He was an ordinary man with an ordinary life. His heart pounded and mind alerted at the explicit sensitivity of the situation, perhaps he should call the police. He took another look at the men. They all looked to be in twenties, strong, each throwing threatening vibes around. His jaw dropped when he saw one of them carrying a hockey stick, wiggling in circle at his feet. He felt all the strength leaving his body.

Perhaps he should leave the place, but he was a responsible citizen. Wouldn't a responsible citizen would call the police? Slowly he pulled the phone from his pocket, but his shivering hands slipped it off to the floor. He struggled to catch it but his body made enough noise before the phone clattered to the floor. Heads turned and all eyes were on him. His hands trembled as he dropped to the floor to collect the dropped phone and heart which had slipped with a skipping beat. He looked up as a pair of shoes appeared before his eyes and a hand fell on his shoulder.

“So we have audience, isn’t that interesting?”, the man before him said. He was handsome but his eyes beamed with malevolence. The man pulled him up and pushed towards the group. He kept his eyes glued to the floor throughout the humiliation, moving slowly and silently. His felt his mouth dry and sealed. “What should we do with this one?”, the same man continued.

The others looked at Andy in amusement. He looked at them, one after another. Each of them were young but their gestures were outright twisted. The outcasts scowled at him, perhaps pondering what good could be extracted from a boring man standing before them. One of them came towards him. He was burly and others stopped speaking as he moved. Andy guessed him to be their leader.

“Were you calling the police?”, he asked in a heavy hoarse voice, head tilted slightly. The question did not reach Andy’s ears until he tasted blood in his mouth. He kept mum but was now alert as the whole scene hit him with a new blow. There was a mix of bouts of laughter and cries.

“Are you a man?”, the leader asked.

“Huh?”, it was all that came out of his mouth as he starred at the leader. The others cheered at the question.

The leader took his chin and twisted it to face the girl. “Look at her, how is she?”, the leader asked and pushed him towards her. Andy almost fell on her but balanced himself, she let out another cry. “Please”, she pleaded. He gulped inside the metallic taste in his mouth.

Another bout of laughter, and more shouts rose, “Fuck her! Fuck her!”.

His wary eyes on floor landed on her feet, one was in high heel and other without. She stood awkwardly but her feet were white and beautiful, very very beautiful. His eyes hurried up making note of the curves and swells. She was young and extremely beautiful, her skin unnaturally white, as if moulded from milk. He took another gulp as his eyes registered yet another un-ordinary reality.

“Will he fuck her?”, the others were shouting, “Are you a man? Or you are just another shit from that fucking city?”

Andy's breathing was growing faster and there was something stirring inside him. Anger was rising. “I am not a shit! I am a good man!” he shouted turning away.

“Good Man?, more laughs erupted. "You are like us, inside. I will show you how good you are”, the leader shouted hitting him again. When the leader waved, the guy with hockey struck one of the lights. The leader came closer to him and whispered, “We have made it easy now”, a little too friendly that gave him goosebumps. Andy now looked at the leader with increasing obedience. The leader repeated calmly, “I can see it in you, you are one of us”. Andy shook his head. His anger was increasing, the laughter around rising. The young girl was pleading, her cries increasing. The whole chaos was grubbing his mind, his heart had already fallen out. Only a dim but profound sound from his mind seemed to be alive. It was calling, “Look at her, look at her”. He was angry but on whom?

“I won’t!” he shouted. The leader grunted and shoved Andy towards the girl again, this time he felt over her. She shoved him away but it was too late. The current has passed through him and he was all over her, clinging her body, his weight holding her down. The dimness was making it worse, there was new uncontrollable feeling rising inside him. “We are going”, the men laughed. “He is worse then us”, he heard them, laughing, banging around with the hockey. The sound of the feet moving away was slowly registering in his mind.

The girl was shaking all over as she cried, “You are a good man, please let me go“. He sat over her, his eyes devouring the torn clothes, exposed skin, pink lips curled down. What shook him were her eyes, which were like an overflowing pond. He saw a reflection in the tears which pierced through him but only for a moment. Just like a stone thrown in pond creating ripples, the tears blurred the reflection and the man in them lost it’s identity. He was some body else now. The girl cried and pushed him but the outlaw inside him was now in control and the body under him real. He did what a good man would not have done.

The voice was returning albeit in a drool as he got up. He looked at himself and buttoned his cuffs, pinched the collar together and tidied his pants. the mess that he had become, trying to reverse the inside out. He walked towards the exit of the tunnel avoiding looking back. Perhaps the tunnel was sinister, it had sullied him, he shouldn't stay they any longer. When he reached the stairs and was to cross the threshold, he looked back. The girl was wobbling on her unsteady feet, half unconscious, hurt and bleeding. Was that me? A horn sounded behind her with the headlights flashing. She was too close to the edge. In the light he saw her eyes and in them, a reflection. He ran away from the tunnel.

Six months had passed. Those eyes still came back without any warning. He stuffed fist inside his mouth and shouted with all his might. Slowly his breathing was getting steady and body recovering. When he opened the door, his wife came running towards him, “Are you okay? What is this that happens to you? Why don’t you tell me? Perhaps I can help”, she was pleading. 

Thoughts ran inside his mind, he knew the secret was eating him. But he couldn’t make himself look at her, he was afraid of another teary eyes, afraid of the reflection in them, of the animal who he thought he had left behind in the tunnel.

“Stop it! …Forgive me...”, he cried and ran out of the house. He kept running wherever his feet took him. But even as he ran, he knew, he can run forever, but what he is running from is inside him, the tunnel with flickering lights. But … even if he wants, he cannot kill the beast. Because... he was a coward, he was a good man, but made of flesh, of weak will, or perhaps there was someone else hiding behind the drapes.

What can he do? He has a heart but it falls off, a conscience but it gets lost, with convenience

He stopped, turned back and dragged himself towards his house.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 22.