It was dark. The thunderous black clouds roared away a deafening sound looking at the mighty earth.

It was an indication of
rains in the summer which was rather unusual. Amidst this, I stood tall gripping my psychiatry book. It was an honor for me to
welcome my dearest daughter on the stage. The world renowned psychiatrist Dr. Bhumi Brahman had finally arrived after a
prolonged delay. It was quite a while since she was meeting me. Yes, and the wait was over. It was plenary session of Cambridge to
witness the real truth. Quiet a time ago, Bhumi presented an incident as part of the write psychiatry contest. It was about her
patient (a child) and bhumi had written a 3 page story in a childs narration. But only the first 2 pages of childs narration made it to
the public asking the folks of department of psychiatry to guess the third. She had really spun a great intriguing yarn.
Earlier in the month
I had no clue about where the story was heading to when I read the first page of the story. Like every interested folk at
Cambridge, I carefully studied it
*****PAGE 1*****

A secret weapon
Late in the summer of my sixth year, when addition and subtraction mattered the most to my uncle than my happiness, a
maid was hired to look after me with my Montessori classes from 12. After I lost my mother at 3, my father relocated to
abroad for his livelihood. I was raised by my uncle & aunt who rarely reached home before 6 and my eyes peeked to the clock
to see if it showed 6. The maid who I called geetamma lovingly became a good friend of mine in a duration of a week and
with her I watched the squirrels gorging on tiny nuts in still hazelnut trees, clasping their soft feet onto the heavy branches.
Often she used to take me to nearby trees and hold my slender body a little above the ground to get me a clear image of
squirrels stripping away the bright apples and pears. Once we reached home, we used to play the squirrel game. I used to feel
thrilled to watch her become a squirrel and me, either a half stripped apple or half eaten hazelnut as she would dress me half
naked, and like a squirrel that gorge on tiny nuts and fruits, she used to run towards me, bite my cheeks softly and wait till I
pounced on her and bit her cheeks steadily. When I showed the signs of a nap, geetamma always gave me a peck on my
cheeks and insist that I reciprocate and then take me for a peaceful nap.
Months went by. One day, a knock on my cozy door when geetamma was out to bring vegetables, awakened my senses
and limbs urged me to step forward. As I headed towards the door, the heavy air gushed inside from the half opened window
and surrounded my tiny head. The knocking continued and I gripped the door handle and tried my best to pull the door at
once. I saw a tall man in his thirties, barrel chested and heavily built. He carried a Remington 700 rifle, the one they used in
the movies. He smiled gracefully and offered me his hand. I shook hands with him and welcomed him. He spoke softly and
introduced himself as john, john the savior. He talked about playing my video games, listening to my stories and singing a
lullaby. I found a sense of comfort with his soft words over geetammas and I asked johnfriends? but he put up a
condition that I never tell anyone about him. I didnt know john before nor was I puzzled with his surprise visit. Nevertheless,
I promised him and shook hands. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear or the
smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. He never hit me unlike geetamma. He spoke to me
with love that I always craved. He pampered me the most and filled the absence of my uncle till evening or whenever
geetamma went out on work. But whenever geetammas harsh tone approached us, he used to slide behind the door at the
rear, jump off the wall and disappear.
I always narrated the creation of my stories to john and he always listened till the end. One day, while I was narrating a
story to john unaware of geetammas approaching footsteps, she heard me talking loudly and the heavy doors were pushed
instantly. John was too quick to hide in the attic. But I had continued and she searched the room quite reluctantly before she

took me out for an ice cream as a part of our daily secret routine. I had 2 secrets to be kept within me at the age of 6one was
that of john and the other was a secret game with geetammas friends as she cleaned the utensils, before we returned home
with an ice cream in my tiny hands.
Johns visits had become more frequent than before but I never could reason out his visits. A knock on the window pane
when my aunt was sleeping would snatch an hour with john quite easily and he never left the place immediately though I
forced him sometimes to leave. So we had a rule. The count of numbers in reverse from ten to one would make him disappear
at any cost and the same numbers from one to ten would make him appear; however the latter was not true always. But
whenever I fought with john, I always closed my eyes in haste, counted from ten to one just to miss my johns cute smiling
face.
*****End of Page 1*****
Who was john, what was his purpose of visit, was he behind money, what was the secret game and the secret weapon? were
the questions that slowly dripped into my brain and never got solutions until I read the next page.

*****PAGE 2*****
Melancholy of a kid

The onset of winter prompted a wave of bizarre events. My aunt took some time off from her office and decided to spend
time with me after she noticed few changes in me. She observed strange reactions in me. She watched me groaning in pain in
the night and in the morning, there were equally surprising events that prompted her to consult a doctor. The doctor tried
various medications but none could jolt my secrets out. After a series of futile checkups, the frustrated doctor, unable to show
up with a proper diagnosis decided to take a step ahead. Yes, the doctor wanted to try hypnotism on this 6 year old kid!
I never wanted john to know that I was in hospital for medications but he always managed to know somehow. I was on
the hospital bed and a knock on the door alerted me that john was there.
Go back john. I am good. Doctor might come at any point.
Okay but I am going to stay nearby till you are out of the hospital. Take care.
After a few minutes, the doctor arrived and kissed me on my forehead. She glanced around before she quite diligently took
my right hand and rubbed them softly. As I started counting from one to ten as per her advice, her caring words gradually
took me into a state of trance. Yes, I was hypnotized within a minute of the start. For a second, I thought john would appear
since I was counting from 1 to 10. However, soon I remembered that john would never appear but always disappear when I
did it in reverse.
I am your friend kid. Can you tell me the game you always like to play?
Squirrel game. Its so fun but pains a bit for some time.
Squirrel game? is it? How is it played?
Have you ever watched the tiny squirrels gorging on the half broken nuts or stripping off the bright apples in still dustgreen
trees? If you have watched it, then its easy for you to understand what it is. One becomes the squirrel and the other, an apple
or a nut. Like the squirrel that eats an apple or a nut, one person eats the other.

Whom do you play this game with, kid?

Geetamma and her friends. They always get me an ice cream for not revealing it to anybody. We get one for 20rs near the
corner shop.
Oh nice. An ice cream a day is something I too love, you know But can you tell me who geetammas friends are?
Sateesh uncle, seenu uncle and Ramesh uncle. But I dont like seenu uncle. He hurts me so much. He is ill-mannered. He
undresses me rudely and licks all over my body like a dog. I tell him that a squirrel doesnt lick but he insists that some
squirrels do. Then I lay on bed like the dead insects lay in empty vases. Then he shows me the infrequently used plug points
clogged with grime and takes a brush to clean it. He swivels the brush around with a slow to and fro motion to take away the
dust. Soon he becomes the pointed brush and before I could continue, doctor interrupted.
Soon I was brought out of hypnotic state. The tear filled eyes of the doctor watched me in despair. She hugged me instantly
caressing my flamboyant hair and kissing me on the top of my head.
I will come back in a while kid.
How long, Mr. Doctor?
Its close to 2. I will be back in 2 minutes. With tears, she departed.
Soon I heard a knock at the window. I watched john and asked him to get inside.
You seem to be sad, kid what happened?
Doctor was crying when I woke up from my deep sleep, john. Her silent tears were threatening and I feared something bad
was going to happen to me. Will you save me john, if something bad happens to me?
I promise I do, my dear kid. I am john, the savior. A few months back, john was a complete stranger and now he was more
than a parent to me.
John, doctor will be here soon. You ought to leave now.
One more minute.
Johnnnn My watch shows 2 pm and the doctor said she will come at 2. If they know who you are, they will separate us.
Please understand. I dont want to lose you. I cant imagine narrating my stories to the dead white walls.
As I heard the approaching footsteps of the doctor, I clutched his hands and kissed them. I observed him carefully as he
walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath
and started counting in reverse under my breath. Ten, nine, eight, seven and john was gone.
Quite happy with johns escape, I thought no one noticed him. But soon I was proved wrong. My doctor was at the door
blocking johns way. I saw the doctor at the door still and I was startled. Unable to hide the truth, I decided to convey it with
my trembling words. My doctor understood my friendship and johns importance in my life. The doctor cleared the way for
john to move out and john went outside bidding bye to the doctor and me.
*****End of Page 2*****
I was Shocked. Flabbergasted. I sobbed uncontrollably after all I was a father.

The page 3 was left blank but it had a title John, the true savior.
Bhumi had intrigued the entire department of psychiatry. Since it was a child abuse case, most of the guesses were as
expected but very few guesses caught sight of bhumis eyes.
[Present day]
I requested Dr. Bhumi to reveal the third page. She opened her laptop and revealed the story through a projector.
*****Page 3*****
Soon Geetamma was taken to police and my aunt stayed with me at home till I grew up. What I most missed in my life was
geetammas squirrel game that I used to play every day. But nobody separated john from me! As the years passed, I gradually
began to realize that I was indeed sexually abused by geetammas friends. I never knew if geetamma indeed sold me for money to
those sick pedophile scoundrels or she was innocent, but I was scarred for life. John the savior was the only person I remembered
who gave the love I needed when this mind dissociated the identity. Yes. I was a true victim of Dissociative Identity disorder or
multiple personality disorder (MPD)a mental process which produces a lack of connection in a person's thoughts, memories,
feelings, actions, or sense of identity. The dissociative aspect is thought to be a coping mechanism. Probably I could not cope up
with any more trauma that my brain had to develop a new identity (alter personality) to overcome the pain where I met my
imaginary friend john the savior, who appeared to be real for me. John was an imaginary character created from my alter
personality and I had to serve a long stint switching between the primary and alter. Like most of us have imaginary friends, John
was indeed an imaginary friend and not an alter personality. He was just an imaginary friend of my alter personality.
*****The end*****
As bhumi began to speak, the entire crowd widened their ears. She started Hi Everyone. There is a reason why I presented this
story. Its not about murder. Its not about revenge. Most of you had guessed that john arrests those sick people and few had
imagined john to be split personality. But he wasnt either. John didnt have the identity of his own. He was a mere imagination of
an alter personality. He never existed. Thank you with tears she departed. The entire crowd appreciated her diagnosis with a round
of applause.
After the event, I took her home.
How was it possible to write and diagnose such an incident bhumi and how is the kid?
The kid is fine. With permission from her doctor, she collected the tapes of her hypnotherapy and studied her own case. She wrote
what she had experienced. When it comes out of the experience, nothing is difficult daddy. The same kid has grown up now as one
of the greatest psychiatrists in the world proving everyone that she is indeed the daughter of famous psychiatrist Dr.Brahman. I
have done my job daddy. Bhumi opened her arms and hugged me. She cried till she could forgive me.
I watched my daughter departing with tears. I expected her to turn back. But she didnt!
Love,
Nakul Gowda
Thanks for reading the story. It means something to me.