Chapter 10

To Believe Or Not To Believe

Sudden bile rose up his mouth..

He could taste those pills again.

He tried to open the phone and read further but darn! The phone was locked.

He tried fingers of all the boys and girls lying on the floor. He even tried their facial ids but the crooked, drunk faces were so different from the pouting one that the kids these days use for their ids that none of them matched.

It wasn't Danny's for sure who was locked in his room probably after a night of wild $ex because he'd recognize if it was Danny's.

It might be his girlfriend's but that was a rare case because she never and ideally NEVER separated her phone from herself. He had noticed she even took it to the restrooms with her.

Again he couldn't risk seeing naked Danny and girlfriend in his room.

"F###" he cursed the headache was killing him.

He had no other option.

Desire to learn about the Red Cross attack was killing him and it was far more than the killer headache that the pills were trying to failingly nurse.

He picked the first shirt he found on the floor. He even tried to pull some paper napkins to wipe off those lip prints from his chest and few around his neck

But heck! They were some 9 to 5 brands and non transferrable some long-lasting ones that he'd read and seen in commercials.

After few futile attempts he kicked off the napkins in the nearest bins and walked out of the house not jogging this time for his every step seemed to be taking forever and every step complimented with a massive hammer on his head, like drummers playing a rock concert right inside his head.

He ignored and went directly to the local mart buying the local newspaper.

He even got disappointed looks when he picked the half cut lemon kept for display in the vegetable area and squeezed it in his mouth to get rid of the massive hangover cum headache which seemed to last forever.

He even showed his middle finger when an old lady started cursing him at the oddly behavior

Deep inside the mall there was a very small eatery with few wooden tables and wooden and wrought iron chairs.

He nestled himself there since it was almost empty

It was self-service with only one window where you could place and pick your orders.

A small glass cabinet filled with different types of cookies, chocolates, colorful pastries and cakes some mentioning Merry Christmas unsold cakes too."

John's eyes lit for a nanosecond a farsighted memory kicking him before the crunching of the newspaper in his hand that touched the table he was about to sit demanded his attention.

He managed to sit on the small chair where both his butts could barely manage to fit "Who might have designed such small chairs?' he ignored the stupid thoughts and started looking through the paper.

But there was no mention about any terrorist attack, nothing about Red Cross area.

Was it a dream?

Was he overthinking things?

Did he actually read Red Cross and terrorist attack?

He was slurred with drinks and his eyes blurry.

That must have been a mistake. He might be thinking things.

He took a deep breath and realized how intoxicating the smell of coffee was.

He wanted to have one but he did not want to waste money on a luxury like coffee.

He decided to keep going through the paper and look for some weekend jobs. That could earn him more money. He could visit Peru or even go to some psychologists that the doctor had prescribed him earlier for he recovery of his memory.

'I want Oreo"

"No Red velvet"

"Oreos are crunchy and chocolaty, red velvets are so girly eww"

"No red velvets are soft and gooey and they melt into your mouth" he paused "And YOU are a girl"

"Red velvets are beetroots and it's a vegetable not a cake."

"Oreos are biscuits and not a cake"

John was enticed towards the two little kids accompanied by their parents to the cafe to buy them a cake.

"Its my birthday and I will decide" John was now seeing an 11 year old girl with curly blonde hair like his, arguing about the flavor.

"But you'll only pick chocolates and cookies and caramels." A young boy who looked more like John himself argued, "Vanilla is universal, better off is Red velvet." He concluded himself "we'll take red velvet."

"No" the girl with blonde curls tapped her foot angrily "its my choice and everyone likes Chocolate other than few morons who are so soft and cowards" she made a teasing face.

"That's not cowardice but humbleness" John argued defensively "and what does taste have to do with personality? Chocolates are bitter and vanilla and red velvets are sweet, everyone likes them." He stated the virtual truth of life, acting to be confident."

The vision blurred and John noticed that the argument between the kids had taken a violent turn and the mother was almost into tears.

"Happy Birthday cutie" John barged into the family.

"Thank you," the birthday girl who now had teary eyes said.

"Oh why are you not happy on your birthday?" John asked as he bent on his knees facing the two siblings.

"I want Oreo cake and she red velvet." The boy said arrogantly with his arms folded around his waist.

"Hmm..." its her birthday so why not let her decide?" John tried to settle the sibling rivalry.

"No it's my birthday too." The boy yelled and John now realized that the two were very similar; twins he concluded.

"That really puts your parents into a jeopardy" John gave one sympathetic look at the parents.

He suggested "why not buy Oreo pastry for you dear and red velvet pastry for the pretty girl. So both of you can have you picks" the smile on both the kid's faces were back but John noticed that the parents were still not very satisfied.

"But what about the party, we need more than two pastries to be served to our friends. And we do need to cut a cake." The boy argued

John gave a thinking gesture and then he was deported into past again the girl in blonde curls said, "lets toss and if you win we take what you choose and vice versa."

The girl with blonde curls won but when the cake was opened to cut John noticed that it was a milky white vanilla cake. John eyes lit as the girl mouthed 'I love you' she said "you couldn't cut your cake on your birthday since I was unwell. So' she smiled and hit him on his head showing the sibling rivalry is still on.

"How about we play the toss and the winner gets the cake of his or her choice" John suggested.

"Sounds like a plan" the girl said

"I am in" the boy agreed"

The smile on the faces of their parents finally showed up and John smiled back too.

'''

John felt elevated and really happy at the visions he had earlier.

He did not know whether they were true or not but they seemed like distant memory and he smiled at the beautiful blonde curly hair girl although her face was still blurry..

He wondered if he could visit that psychologist or therapist soon.

John was soon left alone with his cup of dark cappuccino that he couldn't resist buying when his eyes landed on the flat screen on the corner, the voices were probably muted but he could not believe his eyes when he read the headlines.

Terror Attack in RedCross Area.

Six dead.

Many injured.

John couldn't wait any longer.

He reached out to the nearest bus stop and took the first bus to the Red Cross area.

The street was back in life with heavy and shabbily dressed girls ramming around freely on the streets, as the tragedy did not happen.

There were cops roaming around.

The number was moderate but he couldn't guess whether they were patrolling or surveying about the attack.

There were media too around but local people mostly girls who were most likely prostitutes were avoiding them at any cost.

Most of the shops were open. When he walked further the houses in the street were getting smaller and clustered. Noises of too many girls laughing and giggling ran through the corridors.

He did notice few of them eying him from head to toe broadening their chest some bending to give him a glimpse for what lay underneath.

A very small man like a Lilliput from Gulliver travels approached John.

Initially John was surprised to see a child in a street like this but that would be judgmental.

But once the guy spoke John realized that he was a grown up man "how can I help you sir, I am the best one here. Just describe your taste and I have girls that can make you happy."

John wanted to blow him off but this was the first person approaching him from the street. He could use some help and information.

"My friend" John tried to be polite "I heard there was an accident here last night."

The Lilliput guy eyed him from top to bottom assessing him and searching for any dangers emanating from him.

When the small guy was satisfied that he intended no harm "I guess you are talking about 14th street." he spoke after a long pause "it seems terrible there. No one survived." He looked at him sympathetically "are you looking for someone specific?" he asked.

"Which way is 14th street?" John asked.

"You are new to his place. Aren't you?" the little guy asked.

John might have nodded or they were his facial expressions that the guy seemed like warning him "let me tell you one thing. People only visit these places for their own self and their enjoyment. Once their work is done, they leave" he now gave a skeptical look at John "anyone overstaying after their work is done is unwelcomed."

When he saw John reading out numbers of the street and the directions he added "and mostly the emotional attention is not taken very lightly in the area. If your girl were dead I would say " he looked square in John's eyes intimidatingly "let her be. There are other fishes in the pond" the smile, which was vile but coated with honey, followed soon.

"Thanks buddy" John said "for the heads up. I'll remember your wise advice" and walked away towards his destination.

14th street wasn't very far away.

He did not have to read the board signs much, dark smoke emerging from four blocks away guided him with the rest of the path.

Once he confirmed that he was in the vicinity of 14th street, which wasn't very tough task, the ruins of the apartment said it all.

John wondered why would terrorists attack at a place like this. Don't they look for crowded places to pick up maximum lives or they pick up big celebrities to assassinate or abduct for their terrifying motives.

He tried to enter the area but was sealed and guarded. He was not allowed to enter. 'He still couldn't let it be. He wanted to know hat had happened. The guards were not helping.

He circumcised the building and when he noticed an empty corner without any surveillance he decided to jump over and enter the building.

He looked left and right brushed his hands with each other, his heart was beating at an erratic rate. He knew he might be caught and punished for the act he had no hands in.

But he wanted to know what happened in there.

Of course there were casualties, people had died.

But did he know them?

Did Cynthia too die with them?

Why had she called him there?

"Did she plan to kill him too?" sudden fear engulfed him but nevertheless he carried on

There were too many questions to be answered.

And John knew he'd never come across the answers but still if knowledge could help he was ready for that bargain.

He stepped on the round pipe that was heading towards the window of first floor and slipped.

He tried once again this time from a textured wall that had some intricate mural.

The plan was to step and take grip from the patterns of mural.

He might have extended his foot for second time when he was stopped "what the f##k are you doing here? I called you yesterday" she shouted at his back.

"Cynthia" John turned around to look at a disheveled girl, her soft silky hair were going in all the directions, her pale yellow dress was smeared with mud and smoke, her face too had patches of burns, her arms and knees were bruised.

Her eyes looked like hollows of skeleton

"Cynthia" John repeated wondering if he should be happy that she was alive or sorry that she was hurt.

"You are just like your old self" Cynthia commented, "You'll never change. Always keeping your plans and your strategies ahead of the team" she accused him.

A/N

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