RAYA'S POV

After finishing some household chores, I finally returned to my room. College was closed for a few days, but that didn't mean I could rest there were tons of assignments waiting for me. So, I settled down with my books and got to work. After about two hours of intense concentration, my mind began to wander. I glanced at the half-finished manuscript sitting on my desk.

Yes, I write. I'm not a professional writer or anything it's just a hobby. A little escape from the weight of reality. A place where I can breathe freely. Reading and writing have always brought me peace, like a sanctuary tucked away from the noise of the world.

But as I sat there on my bed, lost in thought, I couldn't shake off the sensation like eyes on my back. Watching. Studying.

I frowned and glanced around the room.

Nothing

I was alone.

My sister had gone to school, and my father is at office. The front door was locked. The windows were shut. And yet...

That same window the one I saw a strange mist by the other day, with what looked like a handprint suddenly drew my attention. I walked up to it cautiously, heart pounding just a little harder now. But as I leaned in and examined the glass closely, there was nothing there. No mist. No fingerprint. Just clear glass with droplets of old rain dried along the edges.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking again," I muttered under my breath. "Too much imagination."

I pulled the curtains shut and tried to brush off the strange tension curling in my chest.

.

.

.

.

.

It was 9 PM. Rain poured down heavily outside, drumming softly against the rooftop like a thousand tiny fingers. The air smelled damp, earthy, and thick with the weight of the storm. My sister and I were at our study table, books sprawled across the surface, while our father cooked dinner in the kitchen.

Later, after eating, we retired to our shared bedroom. Wrapped in warm blankets, we lay on our beds, gossiping under the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

"Didi," my sister began, "you remember that teacher who used to teach History to the senior classes back when you were in school?"

"Yes, of course I do," I replied

"The handsome one?" she asked with a teasing grin.

I chuckled. "Yes, I know who you mean. Why?"

"Well..." she leaned in dramatically. "He's a professor now. And not just anywhere he's teaching at your college!"

"What? Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Disha told me," she confirmed confidently. "She saw him the other day."

"But... how does someone go from schoolteacher to college professor just like that? So suddenly?" I asked, frowning in confusion.

"Didi, boro loks you know how it is. They can do anything they want."

(rich people)

I sighed. "Yeah, you're right."

"Anyway, let's sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I mumbled and turned off the light.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

AUTHOR'S POV

Midnight.

The storm still whispered outside, the rain now a soft murmur. Isha slept soundly under her blanket, her breathing steady, lost in some far-off dream.

But Raya, she couldn't sleep.

She tossed and turned, the feeling of restlessness wrapping around her like invisible hands. Finally, she sat up and pushed the blanket aside. Quietly, she walked to the window. The moon hung low in the sky, a pale eye behind drifting clouds. Silvery light pooled on the floor of their bedroom.

She stood there, unmoving, letting the cold air brush against her skin. The silence was thick-so thick it rang in her ears.

And then she saw it.

A movement.

A shadow quick, fleeting just beyond the edge of the trees near their house. She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward to the window.

"Is someone... standing there?" she whispered to herself, heart beginning to thud.

She stepped back and picked up a torch from the shelf, flicking it on. A narrow beam of light cut through the dark as she pointed it toward the window, illuminating the trees and the wet ground beyond.

Nothing.

Not a single sign of movement.

"Raya, what's wrong with you?" she muttered nervously. "No one would be out there at this hour... in this weather."

She shut the window firmly and latched it. The silence felt louder now. Heavier.

As she turned to return to bed, her phone suddenly rang.

The shrill sound cut through the quiet like a knife, and she jumped, nearly dropping the torch.

The screen glowed with a number she didn't recognize.

Unknown Number

Her hand hesitated over the screen, a cold feeling creeping down her spine.

At this time of night?

Still frowning, she answered. "Hello... ke bolchen?"

(Who is this?)

There was no reply.

Only the sound of... breathing from the other side.

Slow. Heavy. Uneven.

"Hello?" she asked again, voice rising slightly.

Still nothing. Just that eerie, slow inhale and exhale like something monstrous was pressing the phone against its face, just listening.

She quickly hung up and blocked the number. Her heart was racing now, each beat echoing in her ears.

"Who calls at this hour?" she whispered, staring at her phone. "God knows who that was..."

She returned to bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin, trying to shake off the cold crawling under her skin. But something didn't feel right. It wasn't just fear anymore. It was something deeper an instinctive dread, like being hunted.

Was she just imagining it?

Or was something really... there?

She closed her eyes and tried to dismiss the unease, but her thoughts clung to her like shadows.

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

And the darkness watched.

The night passed in a strange blur. Raya eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep, her mind tangled in fragmented dreams twisting shadows, distant whispers, and a blurred face lurking behind the glass. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes even in her dreams, watching... waiting.

Morning came late for her. When she finally opened her eyes, the room was already filled with soft daylight. Isha was folding clothes by the dresser, humming a rhyme under her breath.

"Raya, ato deri holo? You woke up so late," Isha said, a little surprised.

"Couldn't sleep," Raya muttered, rubbing her temples. Her body felt heavy, like she'd been running in her sleep. She sat up slowly, still shaken by the remnants of the night.

But she said nothing more. Something inside her told her not to share anything yet. As if speaking it out loud might give it more power.

.

.

.

.

That evening, the weather turned cold and still. The usual hum of the neighborhood was missing. No passing footsteps, no street vendors, no barking dogs. Only the sound of the ticking wall clock and the rustling of trees outside their window.

Raya sat at her desk again, trying to work on her story. The blinking cursor on her laptop seemed to mock her blank mind. Her eyes darted toward the notebook she kept beside her, the one where she scribbled rough ideas.

It was open.

She hadn't left it that way.

Slowly, she reached for it and paused.

There, at the top of the page, scrawled in sharp, uneven letters, was a single sentence:

"Don't ignore me, Raya."

Her blood ran cold.

That wasn't her handwriting.

She shut the notebook instantly, her hands shaking. Her heart thudded in her chest so loudly it drowned out the silence of the room.

"Isha... did you open my notebook?" she asked without turning.

"No. Why?"

"Nothing." She forced her voice to stay steady.

But inside, she knew something was wrong.

She could feel it.

Not just a passing unease but a presence. It was here. Somewhere just beyond the veil of sight, brushing against her thoughts.

Watching her.

It didn't want to be ignored.

And it wasn't going to wait much longer.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Bheegi bheegi sadko pe mai

Tera intezar karu

Dheere dheere dil ki zameen ko

Tere hawale Karu

Khudko me yun kho du

Ke phir na kabhi paau

Haule haule zindagi ko

Ab tere hawale Karu

Sanam re Sanam re

Tu mera sanam hua re