Chapter 1

The Scar I Was Born With

Chapter 1 (Part 1)

21 September 2016.

I was born in a hospital in Delhi at around two in the afternoon.

Mom used to say that when the nurse first placed me in her arms, the first thing she noticed was my eyes.

Green eyes.

She loved them.

Then the nurse went to call Dad.

My father's name is Cassian.

Dad walked into the room and came straight over to me.

Mom thought he would be happy.

And he was.

At least for the first two seconds.

Then his gaze fell on my face.

And his expression changed.

There was a scar near my left eye.

A thin one.

Running from my eye toward my nose.

It wasn't particularly large.

The problem was that Dad had the exact same scar.

Same place.

Same shape.

Mom used to say that the look on his face was unforgettable.

As if he had just seen a ghost.

"He's just like me..."

That was all he said.

Mom didn't take it seriously.

She held me a little closer and said,

"We'll name him Reyansh."

Dad didn't object.

He simply kept staring at me.

Looking back now, I don't think he was staring at the scar.

I think he remembered something.

Something he should never have remembered.

But at that time, nobody knew that.

Two days later, we went home.

And honestly...

I think Indian relatives arrive faster than ambulances.

By the time we got home, the house was already crowded.

Everyone wanted to see me.

Mom was exhausted.

Completely exhausted.

Yet she was still making breakfast for everyone.

Even today, I don't understand how mothers do that.

If it were me, I would've gone straight to sleep.

One by one, relatives came over to look at me.

"What a cute baby."

"Look at his eyes."

"He looks like a doll."

Mom kept smiling.

Then someone noticed the scar.

And the atmosphere immediately became awkward.

"Oh..."

an aunt said.

"That's the same mark Cassian has."

Nobody said anything.

Then she added,

"Poor boy."

I think she believed she was being sympathetic.

In reality, she only made the room even more uncomfortable.

Mom went silent.

Dad went silent.

And the topic died right there.

I grew up.

The next three years felt normal.

At least to me.

I watched cartoons.

Drew on walls with crayons.

And got scolded for it afterward.

Once, I covered an entire living-room wall with dinosaurs.

I thought it was a masterpiece.

Mom disagreed.

Dad actually laughed that day.

Honestly...

Dad wasn't always bad.

People should understand that.

Sometimes he played cricket with me.

Sometimes he bought me toys.

Sometimes he carried me on his shoulders.

It's just that...

Sometimes his mood would change.

And whenever he looked at me, he'd suddenly become quiet.

Back then, I thought I'd done something wrong.

Now, I think it was something else.

Then came my first day of school.

I woke up before my alarm.

Seriously.

I was that excited.

A new uniform.

New books.

New friends.

I thought life was about to become amazing.

Reality wasn't a fan of my excitement.

Kitchen.

Dad was making breakfast.

Boiled eggs and milk.

Normally, I would've run away at the sight of eggs.

But that day, I didn't complain once.

Mom kept giving instructions.

"Listen to your teachers."

"Don't fight with anyone."

"Finish your lunch."

I nodded at everything.

The truth was, I wasn't listening.

My mind was entirely focused on school.

The bus arrived.

I ran toward the gate.

Mom followed behind me with my bag.

The driver smiled when he saw me.

"Ready?"

I gave him what I thought was a heroic smile.

"Yes."

There were only a few children on the bus.

I walked over and sat beside a boy.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"My name is Reyansh."

"I'm Advay."

And just like that, we started talking.

At that moment, I thought Advay was going to become my first friend.

Life loves irony.

The school was huge.

At least it looked huge to me.

Glass walls.

A massive playground.

Hundreds of children.

I was literally standing there with my mouth open.

When I entered the classroom, some kids were crying.

One boy was crying so hard it looked like he was being sent to prison.

The teacher was trying to calm him down with chocolates.

I remember looking at him and thinking:

"School can't be that bad."

I had no idea how wrong I was.

I had barely sat down when a boy looked at me.

Straight at my scar.

"Eww."

At first, I thought he was talking about someone else.

Then he pointed directly at me.

"No, seriously. Look at his face."

Another child walked over.

Then another.

Within seconds, I understood the problem.

The scar.

That stupid scar.

"What's that?"

"What happened to his face?"

"He looks like a monster."

"Is he an alien?"

Some kids laughed.

Some genuinely looked scared.

I just sat there.

I didn't know what to say.

For the first time in my life, I realized that maybe there was something about my face that other people found strange.

And that moment changed everything.

I sat quietly.

On the very first day.

In the very first class.

And suddenly, school didn't seem nearly as exciting as I had imagined.

The teacher began taking attendance.

One name after another.

Each student answered:

"Present, Ma'am."

Then my turn came.

"Reyansh Cassian."

I stood up.

"Present, Ma'am."

The teacher looked at me.

Just for a second.

Only a second.

But it felt like she had looked at the scar too.

Then she marked the register and moved on.

For some reason, that hurt even more.

When children stare, you can understand it.

But when adults do the same...

It feels different.

The day crawled by.

Nobody talked to me.

Not even Advay.

He had seemed normal on the bus.

Now he was sitting with the other kids.

Every now and then, he'd glance at me.

Then quickly look away.

As if he couldn't decide whether being friends with me was a good idea.

At lunch break, I sat alone.

Near the edge of the playground.

Everyone else was in groups.

Some were playing football.

Some were playing tag.

Some were simply running around for absolutely no reason.

And me?

I just watched them.

That was the first time I felt truly alone.

School ended.

I took the bus home.

The moment I reached the house, I heard shouting from inside.

I stopped.

My parents didn't usually argue.

Or maybe they did.

Just not in front of me.

But today, their voices could be heard from outside.

I walked in slowly.

Mom and Dad were standing in the living room.

Both furious.

I'd never seen them like that before.

"I told you!" Dad shouted.

"I can't do this anymore!"

Mom was angry too.

"Then what are you going to do? Tell me!"

I didn't understand any of it.

I simply stared at them.

Then I walked over to Dad and asked,

"Dad... why are you shouting at Mom?"

What happened next is something I'll never forget.

Dad shoved me.

Hard.

I fell straight onto the floor.

Everything went blank for a second.

Mom froze.

I froze.

Even Dad looked shocked.

But the thing I remember most...

Was his eyes.

They didn't look normal.

It was as if he wasn't looking at me at all.

As if he was looking at someone else.

Then he whispered:

"It's all happening because of you..."

I didn't understand.

"What?"

His jaw tightened.

Then he said it.

"Monster."

The room fell silent.

Completely silent.

For a moment, I thought I'd heard him wrong.

Why would Dad call me a monster?

I'd only gone to school.

I was just...

Me.

Mom rushed toward me.

She helped me up and hugged me so tightly that I could barely breathe.

"Nothing is wrong."

Her voice was trembling.

"Nothing is wrong, okay?"

I nodded.

But I knew something was wrong.

Very wrong.

That night, dinner was awkward.

Very awkward.

Dad didn't say a single word.

Mom barely spoke either.

The only sounds were the clinking of plates...

And the ticking of the clock.

That was it.

I kept looking at Mom.

Then Dad.

Then my plate.

I thought everything would be normal again by morning.

Like in movies.

Characters fight.

Then the next scene comes, and everything is fine.

Real life isn't like movies.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

Dad's voice kept replaying in my head.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

Every time I remembered it, the word felt louder.

I pulled the blanket over my head.

It didn't help.

The word refused to leave my mind.

Then...

I saw something.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Even today, I'm not completely sure.

My bedroom door was slightly open.

The hallway outside was dark.

And standing in that darkness...

Was something.

A shadow.

Human-shaped.

But not entirely clear.

As if it had been made from smoke.

I froze.

My throat went dry.

I wanted to scream.

But no sound came out.

The shadow didn't move.

It just stood there.

Watching me.

At least, that's what it felt like.

Then I blinked.

And it was gone.

Only darkness remained.

Nothing else.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep.

But when I woke up the next morning, I remembered everything.

The shadow.

Dad.

The word monster.

Everything.

School wasn't much different.

People still avoided me.

Just like before.

During break, I sat alone again.

This time near the old field behind the school.

Hardly anyone went there.

The basketball hoop was broken.

The football goal had no net.

And the grass was so overgrown that it looked like nobody had cleaned the place for years.

I liked it there.

At least nobody stared at me.

I was drawing lines in the dirt with a stick when someone spoke.

"Alone again today?"

I turned around.

And for the first time, I saw Hazel.

Honestly?

My first thought was that her hair had to be fake.

Silver hair.

What kind of kid has silver hair?

I spent several seconds staring at it.

Hazel laughed.

"What are you looking at?"

I immediately felt embarrassed.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"A little."

"A little what?"

"I've never seen silver hair before."

She laughed even harder.

And in that moment...

For the first time in school, someone wasn't looking at my scar.

Someone was looking directly at me.

And somehow...

That felt nice.

"I'm Hazel."

"I know."

"How?"

"I heard your name during attendance."

"So you secretly observe everyone?"

"No."

"Liar."

"A little."

Hazel laughed again.

I don't know why.

But hearing her laugh made me laugh too.

And maybe that was the first moment...

When I started thinking that school might not be so bad after all.

And I had absolutely no idea...

That meeting Hazel would become one of the most important moments of my life.

Nor did I know...

That only a few weeks later...

I would learn something about her that nobody else knew.

Something that perhaps should never have been known at all.

Hazel stood in front of me.

Silver hair.

Blue eyes.

And the kind of expression people usually have when they don't have a single worry in the world.

I had never noticed her before.

Maybe because on my first day, I was too busy dealing with everyone else's comments.

Or maybe because she had never approached me before.

"Your name is Reyansh, right?"

I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Do you always sit here alone during lunch?"

"I've only been at school for two days."

"Fair point."

I laughed.

For some reason, talking to her felt easy.

Strangely easy.

Like we'd already been friends for years.

Hazel sat down beside me.

Completely normally.

As if my scar didn't exist.

I stared at her for a moment.

She was drawing circles in the dirt with a stick.

Finally, I asked the question.

"Doesn't my scar look weird to you?"

Hazel stopped drawing.

Then she looked straight into my eyes.

Actually looked.

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"But everyone says it does."

"Everyone's an idiot."

I laughed again.

So did she.

And honestly...

At that moment, that line felt cooler than anything a superhero could have said.

Hazel stood up.

> "Want to play?"

> "Play what?"

> "Anything."

> "Here?"

> "Yeah."

> "There's nothing here."

Hazel got to her feet and spread her arms dramatically.

> "That's what imagination is for."

I blinked.

She pointed toward the far side of the field.

> "Come on."

And then she ran.

I chased after her.

---

The field looked even creepier up close.

The broken basketball hoop.

The rusted football posts.

The cracked benches.

And the storage room.

Old.

Locked.

Abandoned.

Most of its paint had peeled away.

A heavy lock hung from the door.

Just looking at it made me uncomfortable.

Hazel, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered at all.

She stood in the middle of the grass.

> "Hide and seek."

> "What?"

> "Hide and seek."

> "With just the two of us?"

> "Yeah."

> "Wouldn't that be boring?"

> "No."

> "You're going to cheat."

> "I never cheat."

The smile on her face made it obvious she was lying.

---

I started counting.

> "One..."

> "Two..."

> "Three..."

Hazel ran off.

I kept counting with my face toward the wall.

> "Seventeen..."

> "Eighteen..."

> "Nineteen..."

> "Twenty."

I turned around.

The field was empty.

Completely empty.

Hazel was gone.

---

I checked near the football post.

Nothing.

I checked behind the benches.

Nothing.

I searched around the storage room.

Still nothing.

And then...

I felt it.

The same feeling I'd had the previous night.

Like someone was watching me.

I stopped moving.

The entire field was silent.

There wasn't even any wind.

Only the distant sounds of the school.

Then...

Something moved behind the storage room.

I froze.

My heart started pounding.

For a second, I thought it was the same shadow I'd seen in my room.

The same one.

I slowly took a step forward.

Then another.

Then another.

---

The moment I reached the corner—

> "BOOO!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Hazel collapsed onto the grass laughing.

> "OH MY GOD!"

> "You should've seen your face!"

I clutched my chest dramatically.

> "One day you're going to give me a heart attack."

> "You're five."

> "So?"

> "Five-year-olds don't get heart attacks."

> "Are you a scientist?"

> "No."

> "Then how do you know?"

Hazel paused.

> "...Good point."

---

After that, we kept playing.

For the first time since school started, time passed quickly.

Very quickly.

When the bell rang, I couldn't believe it.

> "Already?"

Hazel made a face.

> "Unfair."

I nodded.

> "Very unfair."

---

We walked back toward class together.

The entire way, Hazel talked nonstop.

About her dog.

About cartoons.

About random teachers.

Most of what she said made absolutely no sense.

But somehow it was fun to listen to.

---

The moment we entered the classroom, everyone looked at us.

I instantly felt uncomfortable.

Hazel didn't care.

Not even a little.

She walked straight to my desk and sat beside me.

As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Immediately, whispers started.

> "Why is she sitting with him?"

> "No idea."

> "Doesn't she know?"

> "Know what?"

> "His scar."

Hazel definitely heard them.

But she didn't react.

Not once.

---

Math class began.

The teacher started writing numbers on the board.

Honestly, I barely understood half of it.

My attention kept drifting toward Hazel.

She was drawing cats in the corner of her notebook.

The teacher was teaching math.

Hazel was drawing cats.

The confidence was impressive.

> "What are you looking at?"

she whispered.

> "You."

> "That's weird."

> "Why are you drawing cats?"

> "Because cats are cool."

> "Dogs are cool too."

> "No."

> "Yes."

> "No."

> "Yes."

The teacher suddenly turned around.

Both of us immediately sat up straight.

As if nothing had happened.

---

During lunch, we sat together.

Hazel offered me half of her sandwich.

I refused.

She offered again.

I refused again.

Then she placed the sandwich directly into my hand.

> "Now try refusing."

I lost the battle.

And ate it.

Honestly...

It was pretty good.

> "Did your mom make this?"

> "Yeah."

> "Lucky."

> "Doesn't your mom make sandwiches?"

> "She does."

> "Then?"

> "Her sandwiches are boring."

Hazel laughed so hard that she spilled her juice.

---

That day, for the first time, I felt like maybe everything would be okay.

Maybe school wasn't so bad.

Maybe people weren't so terrible.

Maybe the scar wasn't as important as I thought it was.

I didn't know...

That the very next day everything would start getting worse again.

And I definitely didn't know...

That the storage room we'd been playing near...

Contained something nobody in the school ever talked about.

Nobody.

Because some secrets...

Are meant to stay buried.

The next morning, everything seemed normal.

Breakfast.

Mom.

Dad.

The usual routine.

As if nothing strange had happened the night before.

As if there had been no shadow.

No nightmare.

No word like monster hanging over my head.

I looked at Mom.

"Did you come into my room last night?"

She looked up from the kitchen.

"No."

"Did you open my door?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Just asking."

I didn't push further.

Dad was reading the newspaper.

Suddenly, he looked at me.

Just for a second.

Then he folded the paper.

"How's school going?"

I almost choked.

Dad never asked about school.

"Good."

"Made any friends?"

"Yeah."

"Any problems?"

I shook my head.

"No."

It was a lie.

And somehow...

I felt like Dad knew it was a lie.

The bus arrived.

I climbed aboard.

The first person I saw was Hazel.

She was already sitting by the window.

But something felt different.

Very different.

Normally, she smiled the moment she saw me.

Today, she didn't.

She was staring out the window.

Silent.

Serious.

I sat beside her.

"Good morning."

No answer.

"Hazel?"

Still nothing.

Finally she glanced at me.

"Morning."

Her voice sounded tired.

Like she hadn't slept at all.

"Is something wrong?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she kept looking outside.

A few seconds passed.

Then she suddenly asked:

"Reyansh..."

"Hmm?"

"Did you have a dream last night?"

My heart stopped.

Not metaphorically.

Actually stopped.

For a second.

Because I had never told her about the nightmare.

Not once.

And yet...

That was the first question she asked.

I stared at her.

"What?"

"Did you have a weird dream last night?"

My throat went dry.

"Why?"

"Just answer."

For a moment I considered lying.

Then I nodded.

"Yeah."

Hazel lowered her eyes.

Almost as if she'd expected that answer.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I had a dream."

"Lucky guess."

"Liar."

She didn't respond.

Which was basically an admission.

Now I was starting to feel uneasy.

Hazel had always been strange.

But in a fun way.

Today...

She felt different.

Like she was hiding something.

Something important.

When the bus reached school, she got off immediately.

Without another word.

I hurried after her.

"Hazel!"

She stopped.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

She tried to smile.

Tried.

But it didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm fine."

Then she walked away.

The entire day felt wrong.

Hazel barely talked.

In class.

At lunch.

During breaks.

Everywhere.

Normally she never stopped talking.

Today she hardly said anything at all.

By lunch break, I was getting annoyed.

If something was wrong, why not just tell me?

Why turn everything into a mystery?

We sat beneath our usual tree.

I was eating.

Hazel was staring at the grass.

"Hazel."

"Hmm?"

"You're scaring me."

She blinked.

"What?"

"You're acting weird."

"Sorry."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

I sighed.

"Great."

We sat in silence.

Then suddenly she asked:

"Reyansh... did you go near the storage room yesterday?"

I froze.

"Yeah."

"How close?"

"Close."

"How close?"

"I don't exactly measure distance."

Normally she would've laughed.

This time she didn't.

Not even a little.

And for the first time...

A knot formed in my stomach.

Because Hazel laughed at everything.

Everything.

She looked directly at me.

"Don't go there again."

"Why?"

"Just don't."

"Why?"

Her eyes locked onto mine.

And she said quietly:

"Because some things shouldn't be awakened."

I laughed nervously.

"Have you been watching horror movies?"

Hazel didn't smile.

Didn't laugh.

Didn't react at all.

And for the first time...

I realized she wasn't joking.

At all.

The bell rang before I could ask anything else.

The conversation ended there.

But my mind didn't.

The entire afternoon, only one thing kept repeating in my head.

The storage room.

The more someone tells a kid not to do something...

The more they want to do it.

It's a universal law.

And I was no exception.

The last class of the day was unbelievably boring.

The teacher was talking about plants.

Half the class looked asleep.

Two kids were trying to eat crayons.

And I...

I was thinking about the storage room.

Then I noticed something.

Hazel was staring out the window.

Toward the back of the school.

Toward the exact area where the storage room stood.

Her face looked tense.

Like she was waiting for something.

Or afraid of something.

After school ended, I didn't go straight to the bus.

At least not immediately.

I waited.

Until the hallways started emptying.

Until most teachers were busy.

Until the playground was nearly deserted.

Then I quietly slipped away toward the back of the school.

I knew I shouldn't be there.

Hazel had warned me.

But that was exactly why I was there.

The old field felt even emptier than usual.

Wind moved through the tall grass.

The broken basketball hoop creaked.

Creeeak...

Creeeak...

Creeeak...

The storage room stood ahead of me.

Old.

Silent.

Locked.

I walked toward it.

One step.

Two steps.

Three.

Then I noticed something.

Near the bottom of the door.

In the dirt.

Something had been marked there.

I crouched down.

And my breath caught.

Footprints.

Small footprints.

A child's footprints.

But that wasn't the strange part.

The strange part was that they only went one way.

Toward the storage room.

Inside.

There were no footprints leading back out.

Not a single one.

I stared at them.

Trying to make sense of it.

Then—

A voice whispered directly behind me.

So close it felt like someone was standing at my shoulder.

"Reyansh..."

Every muscle in my body locked up.

I spun around.

Nobody.

The field was empty.

Completely empty.

But I could've sworn someone had been standing there.

Right behind me.

"Hello?"

I called out.

No answer.

Only silence.

I forced myself to breathe.

Maybe it was my imagination.

That was the logical explanation.

Just imagination.

Then I noticed something else.

Near the footprints.

Something shiny.

Half-buried in the dirt.

I picked it up.

A school badge.

Old.

Very old.

Most of the name had been scratched away.

Only a few letters remained.

"...han"

That was all.

Nothing else.

Just those letters.

I turned it over.

It looked worn.

Like it had been lying there for years.

Then—

THUD.

A sound came from inside the storage room.

I froze.

A few seconds passed.

Then again.

THUD.

As if something had fallen.

Or moved.

Or taken a step.

My logical brain said:

"Probably a rat."

The rest of my brain said:

"Run."

And honestly?

The second option sounded much smarter.

I stayed where I was.

I should've left.

I really should've.

But curiosity is a powerful thing.

And at five years old, I had far more curiosity than common sense.

Slowly, I walked closer to the door.

The old metal surface was covered in rust.

The lock was still there.

Everything looked normal.

Except...

The air.

Cold air was drifting out from somewhere inside.

Not cool.

Cold.

Unnaturally cold.

It was September.

Delhi was still hot.

But standing near the storage room felt like stepping into a refrigerator.

Goosebumps spread across my arms.

"Just one look."

I whispered to myself.

"Then I'll leave."

There was a small crack near the side of the door where the paint had peeled away.

I crouched down.

And looked inside.

Darkness.

Nothing but darkness.

For a moment, I couldn't see anything.

Then my eyes adjusted.

Old chairs.

Dusty boxes.

Broken shelves.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing scary.

I let out a breath.

"See?"

I muttered.

"Nothing's there."

And then something moved.

I froze.

Completely.

A shadow.

Fast.

Too fast.

Something slipped behind the boxes.

Only for a second.

Less than a second.

But I saw it.

I stumbled backward.

My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

"No."

I shook my head.

"No. No. No."

Something had moved.

I knew it had.

I wasn't imagining it.

Then a voice suddenly exploded behind me.

"REYANSH!"

I nearly fell over.

I spun around.

Hazel stood there.

Breathing heavily.

As if she'd run all the way across the school.

"Are you insane?!"

she shouted.

I pressed a hand against my chest.

"You're trying to kill me."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just—"

"No."

She cut me off.

"Don't."

For the first time since I'd met her...

Hazel looked genuinely angry.

"You came here anyway."

"I never promised I wouldn't."

"Technically, no."

"Exactly."

Hazel rubbed her forehead.

Like she was developing a headache.

"You're impossible."

I stayed quiet.

Then I asked:

"Why are you so worried?"

Her expression changed.

Just for a moment.

Like she had decided to tell me something.

Then changed her mind.

"It's nothing."

"Liar."

"Reyansh."

"What?"

"Please."

Her voice sounded different.

Not annoyed.

Not angry.

Almost afraid.

"Just trust me."

I looked into her eyes.

Normally I would've kept asking questions.

But this time...

I stopped.

Because Hazel looked scared.

Actually scared.

And I didn't think Hazel was the kind of person who got scared easily.

The two of us started walking toward the bus stop.

For several minutes neither of us said anything.

Then I asked casually:

"How's your dad?"

Hazel stopped walking.

Only for a second.

Then she continued.

"Better."

"Good."

"Yeah."

The conversation ended there.

But something felt strange.

The moment I'd mentioned her father...

Her smile had disappeared.

And for the first time...

I wondered if things weren't normal at Hazel's house either.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

The old badge was still in my pocket.

I took it out.

"...han"

That was all it said.

Nothing more.

I kept turning it over in my hands.

Then I noticed something on the back.

A number.

2009

I frowned.

2009?

I wasn't even born until 2016.

So why was a badge from 2009 lying near the storage room?

And more importantly...

Who did it belong to?

I didn't know.

But as I slowly drifted off to sleep...

One thought kept repeating in my mind.

"...han"

The name felt familiar.

As if I'd heard it before.

Somewhere.

At some point.

But I couldn't remember where.

And deep inside the storage room...

Hidden in the darkness...

Something moved.

Something that shouldn't have been there.

At all.

I kept staring at the badge.

"...han."

That was all that remained.

Half a name.

Half a clue.

And somehow, I couldn't shake the feeling that it mattered.

A lot.

Like it was a piece of a puzzle.

I just didn't know which puzzle yet.

"Reyansh!"

Mom's voice came from outside my room.

"Lights off."

"Two more minutes."

"You said that yesterday."

"This time I mean it."

"Liar."

I laughed.

Mom laughed too.

Then the door closed.

I looked at the badge one last time before putting it on my desk.

Then I finally fell asleep.

That night...

I had the dream again.

The corridor.

The same corridor.

Long.

Empty.

Silent.

Far too silent.

But this time something was different.

I wasn't alone.

Someone was walking ahead of me.

A boy.

Around my age.

Maybe a little older.

His face was still impossible to see clearly.

As though fog covered it.

Without thinking, I followed him.

Step after step.

The boy never looked back.

Not once.

Yet somehow...

I felt like he knew I was there.

At the end of the corridor stood a door.

Black.

Old.

Strange.

There was no door like that anywhere in my school.

I knew that.

Yet there it was.

Waiting.

The boy stopped in front of it.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then he finally spoke.

"You're late."

A chill ran through me.

His voice sounded wrong.

Not like a child.

Not like an adult.

Just...

Wrong.

"What?"

I asked.

Slowly...

Very slowly...

The boy began turning toward me.

And the moment he did—

I woke up.

I sat upright in bed.

Breathing hard.

My heart racing.

The room was dark.

The clock beside my bed read:

3:14 AM

"Again..."

I whispered.

This wasn't starting to feel like a coincidence anymore.

Two nights.

Two dreams.

The same place.

The same feeling.

The same boy.

I got up to drink some water.

Then something caught my eye.

The badge.

It was still on my desk.

Exactly where I'd left it.

Or at least...

Almost.

I froze.

Because I clearly remembered leaving it upside down.

The number facing downward.

Now it was face up.

I stared at it.

For several seconds.

Then I shook my head.

"You're imagining things."

Maybe I remembered wrong.

Simple.

That had to be it.

I climbed back into bed.

But sleep didn't come easily after that.

The next morning I already felt exhausted.

When I got onto the bus, Hazel was sitting in her usual seat.

Today she looked normal.

At least more normal than yesterday.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

She looked at me.

Then narrowed her eyes.

"You look like a zombie."

"I had a nightmare."

Her smile disappeared instantly.

"Me too."

I blinked.

"The same one?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Hazel froze.

For a moment she looked like she'd accidentally revealed something.

"What do you mean?"

I asked.

"Nothing."

"Hazel."

"Reyansh—"

"How did you know?"

The sounds inside the bus suddenly felt distant.

Kids talking.

Music playing.

The engine humming.

Everything faded.

All I could focus on was Hazel.

"How did you know?"

I repeated.

Hazel looked out the window.

Then quietly said:

"Because I saw him too."

My stomach dropped.

"Saw who?"

She leaned closer.

Making sure nobody else could hear.

Then whispered:

"The boy in the corridor."

I stopped breathing.

Because I had never told her about him.

Not once.

Not ever.

And yet...

She knew exactly who he was.

I stared at her.

For several long seconds.

"Stop joking."

Hazel didn't laugh.

Didn't smile.

Didn't react at all.

"You're joking, right?"

"No."

"You actually saw him?"

Hazel slowly nodded.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

Because if she had been lying, I would've known.

Whenever Hazel lied, her left eyebrow twitched.

I'd noticed that.

For some reason.

This time?

No twitch.

Not even once.

The bus continued moving toward school.

But suddenly, school felt like the last place I wanted to go.

"What was he doing?"

I asked.

"Who?"

"The boy."

Hazel looked down.

"He was just standing there."

"Where?"

"In the corridor."

"Did he say anything?"

The color drained from her face.

"Yeah."

"What?"

She looked directly into my eyes.

"He said, 'You're late.'"

My throat went dry.

Those were the exact words.

Word for word.

I hadn't told her that either.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

The bus felt strangely quiet.

Then someone laughed behind us.

Both Hazel and I turned around.

An older boy was sitting a few rows back.

The same one who had refused to let me sit near him a few days ago.

Messy black hair.

Sharp eyebrows.

Permanent angry expression.

But today...

He was smiling.

And he was looking directly at us.

"You two are weird."

I frowned.

"What's your problem?"

His smile disappeared immediately.

"People shouldn't go behind the school."

Everything inside me froze.

Hazel too.

"What?"

I asked.

The boy shrugged.

"Nothing."

Then he turned toward the window.

As if he'd never said anything.

I looked at Hazel.

Hazel looked at me.

Neither of us had an answer.

How did he know?

School finally arrived.

But I couldn't focus on anything all day.

Not classes.

Not homework.

Not lunch.

Nothing.

Only four things occupied my mind.

The nightmare.

The badge.

The storage room.

And now...

The angry boy.

During lunch break, Hazel and I sat beneath our usual tree.

Neither of us touched our food.

"What do you think is happening?"

I asked.

Hazel stared at the grass.

"I don't know."

"Liar."

She sighed.

"Why does everyone think I'm lying all the time?"

"Because you're clearly hiding something."

Hazel fell silent.

For almost a minute.

Then she spoke.

"My dad once mentioned the storage room."

I sat up immediately.

"What did he say?"

She hesitated.

"Not much."

"Hazel."

"Seriously."

"Please."

She looked uncomfortable.

Like she regretted bringing it up.

"He just said there was an accident at the school a long time ago."

My attention sharpened instantly.

"What kind of accident?"

"I don't know."

"When?"

Hazel thought for a moment.

"Maybe... when my dad was a student here."

I blinked.

Her dad had to be around forty.

Maybe younger.

Maybe older.

Either way...

One number immediately appeared in my head.

2009.

The badge.

I quickly checked my pocket.

Still there.

For some reason, I felt relieved.

"I need to show you something."

I said.

Hazel looked curious.

"What?"

I reached into my pocket.

Ready to pull out the badge.

And then a shadow fell across both of us.

We looked up.

Our class teacher was standing there.

And she did not look happy.

"Reyansh."

"...Yes, ma'am."

"Hazel."

"...Yes, ma'am."

She crossed her arms.

"The principal wants to see both of you."

My stomach dropped.

"Why?"

Hazel asked.

The teacher's expression became strange.

Almost nervous.

"Someone reported that you were seen in a restricted area."

Restricted area.

The storage room.

Hazel and I exchanged a glance.

Because neither of us had told anyone.

Not a single person.

So who reported us?

And more importantly...

How did they know?

The walk to the principal's office felt much longer than it actually was.

Neither Hazel nor I spoke.

The teacher walked ahead of us.

And with every step, the knot in my stomach tightened.

I wasn't worried about being punished.

Not really.

I was worried about something else.

Someone knew.

Someone knew we'd gone near the storage room.

And that didn't make sense.

The field had been empty.

Nobody was there.

At least...

Nobody I had seen.

The principal's office door stood open.

The teacher knocked once.

Then led us inside.

The principal looked up from her desk.

Normally she always smiled.

Today she didn't.

"Sit down."

Hazel and I sat.

For a few moments, nobody spoke.

The principal simply studied us.

Like she was trying to figure something out.

Finally, she folded her hands.

"Do either of you know why you're here?"

Hazel answered first.

"Because we went near the storage room?"

The principal's expression changed slightly.

"So you admit it."

Hazel immediately regretted speaking.

I could tell.

The principal sighed.

"That area is restricted for a reason."

"Why?"

I asked.

For a moment, she didn't answer.

Then she looked away.

"Because it's dangerous."

That wasn't an answer.

And all three of us knew it.

"Dangerous how?"

I asked again.

The principal hesitated.

"That's not important."

Which usually means it is important.

Very important.

The room fell silent again.

Then something caught my attention.

A filing cabinet stood near the wall.

One drawer wasn't fully closed.

Inside...

I could see old folders.

Dusty folders.

Very old folders.

The principal followed my gaze.

And immediately stood up.

She walked to the cabinet.

Pulled the drawer shut.

And locked it.

That definitely didn't make me less curious.

Hazel noticed it too.

I could tell.

The principal returned to her chair.

"I don't want either of you going near that building again."

"Why?"

I asked.

Again.

No answer.

Instead she said:

"Promise me."

I didn't.

Hazel didn't.

The principal sighed.

Then something strange happened.

She opened the drawer of her desk.

Reached inside.

And pulled out an old file.

A very old file.

Covered in dust.

Across the front, written in faded black letters, were the words:

INCIDENT REPORT — 2009

My heart skipped a beat.

The same year written on the badge.

The principal stared at the file.

For a long time.

Almost like she was debating whether to open it.

Then she finally did.

Page after page turned.

Her expression slowly changed.

Confusion.

Concern.

Shock.

Then suddenly she stopped.

Frozen.

"That's impossible..."

she whispered.

"What?"

I asked.

The principal didn't answer.

Instead, she pulled a photograph from inside the file.

And placed it on the desk.

Directly in front of me.

I looked down.

And my entire body went cold.

The photo showed a group of students.

Old uniforms.

Old building.

Old picture.

But I wasn't looking at any of that.

I was looking at one boy.

A boy standing near the center.

Because he had the same scar.

Exactly the same scar.

Same side.

Same shape.

Same place.

My hands started shaking.

"Who is he?"

I whispered.

The principal opened her mouth to answer.

And then—

THUD!

Something crashed outside the office.

Everyone jumped.

The principal stood.

Hazel turned toward the window.

And the moment she looked outside...

The color drained from her face.

"Hazel?"

I asked.

Her hand slowly rose.

Pointing through the glass.

She was trembling.

"Reyansh..."

"What?"

Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"I saw him."

My stomach dropped.

"Who?"

Hazel didn't take her eyes off the window.

"The boy from the corridor."

A chill shot through my entire body.

I rushed to the window.

The principal followed.

We looked outside.

There was nobody there.

Nobody at all.

Just empty ground.

Wind.

Grass.

Silence.

Then I noticed something.

Near the bottom of the window.

In the dirt.

Footprints.

Small footprints.

Child-sized.

Leading away from the building.

Leading directly toward the storage room.

And this time...

There was a second set beside them.

Bare footprints.

As if someone had been walking without shoes.

Or as if...

Whatever made them...

Wasn't supposed to be there at all.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

I stared at the footprints.

Hazel stared at the footprints.

And the principal...

She seemed to be staring at something else entirely.

The color had drained from her face.

As if she had seen this before.

As if she already knew what it meant.

"Both of you."

Her voice was quiet.

"Step away from the window."

Neither of us moved.

"Now."

This time her voice was sharp.

Hazel and I immediately stepped back.

The principal walked over and pulled the blinds shut.

The office suddenly felt darker.

Smaller.

"Ma'am..."

I said carefully.

"Who was that boy?"

The principal didn't answer.

"Ma'am."

A few seconds passed.

Then she took a deep breath.

"His name was Rihan."

My heart skipped a beat.

Rihan.

The badge.

"...han."

Everything suddenly started connecting.

"The badge belonged to him."

I said.

The principal's eyes immediately snapped toward me.

"What badge?"

Hazel looked at me.

I froze.

Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

But it was too late now.

Slowly, I pulled the badge from my pocket and placed it on the desk.

The principal looked horrified.

Not surprised.

Not confused.

Horrified.

"Where did you get this?"

"Near the storage room."

The room fell silent.

The principal picked up the badge.

Her hands were shaking slightly.

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

Hazel asked.

The principal turned the badge over.

Then looked at the photograph.

Then back at the badge.

Finally, she whispered:

"Because this badge disappeared seventeen years ago."

A chill ran down my spine.

"Seventeen years?"

She nodded.

"The day Rihan disappeared."

Disappeared.

Not transferred.

Not expelled.

Not dead.

Disappeared.

Hazel understood immediately.

"You mean nobody ever found him?"

The principal said nothing.

And somehow...

That was answer enough.

No.

Nobody ever found him.

I looked back at the photograph.

The scar.

The eyes.

The face.

And suddenly a terrible thought entered my mind.

"Ma'am..."

"What?"

"Did Rihan have nightmares too?"

The room went completely silent.

The principal slowly looked at me.

And for the first time...

I felt like she was afraid of me.

"How do you know about that?"

My mouth went dry.

Because now I was beginning to understand.

The nightmares.

The corridor.

The strange voice.

The boy.

Maybe...

Rihan had experienced all of it too.

And if that was true...

Then this wasn't over.

It was only beginning.

And somewhere beyond the school...

Beyond the old field...

Beyond the locked storage room...

Something was waiting.

For someone.

Maybe for Hazel.

Maybe for Rihan.

Or maybe...

For me.

TO BE CONTINUED

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