The room was dark.
Not normal darkness.
That kind of darkness where even your own breathing starts sounding strange.
I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep… but something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
At first, I thought it was just anxiety again. These days my mind never stayed quiet. Thoughts kept crawling inside my head like insects.
But then—
I felt it.
A presence.
Not outside the room.
Inside it.
My heartbeat slowed for a second.
The air suddenly felt heavy, as if someone invisible had entered the room and stolen all the oxygen.
I quickly looked around.
Nothing.
No movement.
No sound.
No shadow.
Even the fan above me seemed quieter than usual.
But the feeling remained.
Someone was standing there.
Watching me.
My throat dried instantly.
I tried moving my body—
Nothing.
My arms wouldn't move.
My legs wouldn't move.
For a terrifying second, I couldn't even feel my own body.
Panic exploded inside me.
"M-main… main kaha hoon…?"
My voice barely came out.
Then suddenly—
A whisper.
Very close to my ear.
"Please…"
I froze.
The voice was weak. Shaking. Almost crying.
"Please… mujhe jawab do…"
My chest tightened.
Who was this?
What was happening to me?
I tried screaming, but no sound came out.
Then the voice spoke again—
"Please mujhe yaha ghutan ho rahi hai…
Aisa lag raha hai main mar jaunga…"
The fear inside me slowly changed into confusion.
The voice didn't sound evil.
It sounded… desperate.
Broken.
As if someone was trapped somewhere between life and death.
And then—
I saw him.
Not clearly.
Just for one second.
A small boy.
Standing near the corner of the room.
His face was blurry, almost distorted, like reality itself was unable to hold his image properly.
But his eyes—
His eyes looked terrified.
He slowly raised his hand toward me.
That single movement sent chills through my entire body.
Because the moment he came closer…
I felt something impossible.
Pain.
Not emotional pain.
Physical pain.
A crushing pressure spread through my chest as if his suffering was entering my body.
I could feel his fear.
His suffocation.
His helplessness.
As though whatever had happened to him…
was now happening to me too.
And in that moment—
I realized something horrifying.
This was not imagination.
Something beyond human understanding had entered my life.
And it had choosen me
I still remember the way he looked at me.
Terrified.
Broken.
As if something inside him had already died long before his body ever did.
The moment he touched me—
everything changed.
A flood of sensations crashed into me.
Not emotions.
Memories.
Pain.
Feelings that didn't belong to me.
My chest tightened.
Suddenly—
I couldn't breathe properly.
My throat felt blocked.
A strange pressure wrapped around my neck.
And then I felt something impossible.
A hand.
Not real.
Not physical.
Yet terrifyingly present.
Like invisible fingers slowly pressing against my throat.
I stumbled backward.
"What is happening to me…?"
My voice trembled.
The boy was standing there.
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
And then—
something happened.
Something that made fear crawl under my skin.
I started understanding him.
Not through words.
Not through logic.
But through feeling.
He wasn't trying to hurt me.
He was trying to show me something.
Something terrible.
Something unfinished.
I looked closer.
He couldn't have been older than eight or nine.
A schoolboy.
Small shoulders.
Messy hair.
Fear frozen into his eyes.
And suddenly—
an image flashed inside my head.
A classroom.
Children laughing.
Bright sunlight.
Then—
darkness.
A room.
No air.
Panic.
A choking sensation.
And silence.
I gasped and fell to my knees.
My entire body shook.
"No…"
This couldn't be real.
This had to be imagination.
Stress.
Trauma.
Hallucination.
Something.
Anything.
Because if this was real—
then the impossible had just entered my life.
The boy slowly lifted his trembling hand.
Not toward me.
Toward his neck.
Then toward a wall.
And finally—
toward the darkness behind him.
As if trying to tell me:
Look deeper.
At first, I wanted to run.
To forget everything.
To convince myself I had gone insane.
But another feeling rose inside me.
Curiosity.
Why me?
Why could I feel his pain?
Why was I seeing things that belonged to someone else?
And why did it feel…
like this wasn't the first time?
Something inside me whispered a terrifying possibility—
Maybe the world people see…
isn't the real world at all.
Maybe hidden beneath normal life—
there are stories that never ended.
And somehow…
I had just become part of one.
After that night…
nothing felt normal anymore.
The world looked the same.
People still laughed.
Cars still moved.
Morning still came like always.
But for me—
something had broken.
Or maybe…
something had finally awakened.
I started noticing things I had never noticed before.
Tiny pauses in conversations.
People staring into empty spaces for no reason.
The strange heaviness certain places carried.
And sometimes—
for a single second—
I could feel emotions that didn't belong to me.
Fear.
Pain.
Loneliness.
As if the air itself had memories.
At first, I tried ignoring it.
I convinced myself I was overthinking.
But deep inside…
I knew the truth.
The boy wasn't imagination.
He was real.
Not alive.
But real.
And somehow, he had connected himself to me.
The worst part?
I still didn't know why.
Days passed, but the feeling never disappeared.
Sometimes at night, I could sense someone standing outside my room.
Not moving.
Just watching.
Waiting.
And every time that happened, my chest became heavy again.
As if invisible chains wrapped around my body.
I stopped sleeping properly.
Dark circles appeared under my eyes.
My thoughts became unstable.
Even my parents started noticing the change.
"Sab theek hai na?"
That simple question became impossible to answer.
Because how could I explain this to anyone?
How could I tell them that sometimes I felt another world breathing beside ours?
A hidden world.
A silent world.
A world full of unfinished stories.
One evening, while returning home, I suddenly froze in the middle of the road.
A strange sensation hit me.
Sharp.
Cold.
My heartbeat accelerated.
And then—
I saw him again.
The little boy.
Standing across the street.
This time, he looked different.
Worse.
His face carried fear… but also urgency.
Like he was trying to warn me about something.
He slowly raised his hand.
Pointing somewhere behind me.
I turned around instantly—
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Only empty road.
But when I looked back toward the boy—
he was gone.
Completely gone.
My breathing became uneven.
And then I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't just seeing him anymore.
I was beginning to sense things before they happened.
Feelings.
Fragments.
Warnings.
As if some invisible connection between worlds had opened inside me.
That night, I understood one thing clearly—
The boy was not the real danger.
Something else existed behind him.
Something far older.
Far darker.
And whatever it was…
it had finally noticed me too.