Arin walked her home that day.
He stayed close—too close—checking every corner, every shadow, every passerby. His jaw was locked, his fists clenched, his eyes scanning the street like a soldier guarding something precious.
Like a brother protecting his sister.
Aarohi felt small beside him.
Small, and safe… and terrified.
Even the sky seemed darker, clouds thicker, as if the world sensed the storm that was creeping toward her life again.
When they reached home, Arin turned to her. "Stay inside. Don't open the door unless it's Mom, Dad, or me. Okay?"
His voice was gentle—too gentle for the fear in his eyes.
Aarohi nodded.
But something inside her felt wrong.
A strange heaviness sat in her stomach.
Like she wasn't walking away from danger…
but walking toward it.
---
That evening, Aarohi sat in her room, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest.
Her parents were in the living room, laughing softly at a sitcom.
Arin was in his room, pacing—she could hear his footsteps through the wall.
Everything looked normal.
Except her heart wasn't.
She took out the note again.
"You're not the only one who remembers."
Her fingers shook as she traced the letters.
Someone remembered Aara.
Someone knew her truth.
Someone crossed into this life with her.
She wasn't alone.
She wasn't safe.
And the worst part?
She didn't know who it was.
Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes.
"Why won't you let me live…" she whispered.
---
Late at night, unable to sleep, she slipped quietly out of her room and walked to the backyard for air.
The moonlight fell across the grass like silver dust.
She closed her eyes, breathing in the cold night air.
Silence wrapped around her—
until she sensed it.
A presence.
A chill crawled down her spine, slow and sharp.
Her eyes opened.
And she froze.
He was standing on the other side of the fence.
Still.
Silent.
Watching her.
Aarohi's breath caught painfully in her throat.
Black hoodie.
Hands in pockets.
Face hidden by the dim light.
The figure didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't breathe loudly.
Just watched her.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress.
She whispered, voice cracking—
"Who are you?"
The figure tilted his head slightly.
Aarohi's heart hammered.
She stepped back, her legs trembling.
The figure's voice came out low, rough, hollow—
"You don't remember me, do you?"
Aarohi's blood ran cold.
Her knees almost gave out.
He took a slow step forward, the wooden fence between them groaning softly at the movement.
Moonlight caught the edge of his jaw briefly.
A boy.
Young.
But older than her.
A teenager—maybe Arin's age.
But his presence felt older… darker.
His voice cut the air again.
"Aara…"
Her heart stopped.
She pressed her hand against her chest, barely able to breathe.
He said her old name.
Her real name.
Her past name.
Not Aarohi.
Not the name of this life.
But the name of the girl who died crying on a cold pavement.
Aara.
Aara.
Her chest clenched painfully as tears rushed to her eyes.
She whispered, shaking violently—
"H-How… how do you know that name?"
The boy smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But with a familiarity that made her stomach twist.
"Because you weren't the only one who died that night."
Aarohi's body turned to ice.
Her heartbeat rang in her ears.
The boy stepped closer to the fence, and his fingers curled over the top wooden plank.
His voice lowered, soft and haunting—
"I saw you… before everything went black."
Her breath shattered.
No.
No.
No.
She stepped back until her legs hit the wall of the house.
Her voice came out thin, broken. "W-What do you mean?"
The boy's hoodie shadowed his eyes when he spoke again.
"You weren't alone on that road, Aara."
Tears spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably.
Her hands trembled violently.
The boy's voice softened strangely, almost like a memory—
"You cried so much that night."
Aarohi shook her head. "Stop… stop…"
"You held your chest—right here."
He pressed his own hand over his heart.
"And you whispered, 'It hurts…'"
Aarohi felt the world spin.
Her vision blurred.
Her lungs refused to expand.
Her past—
the one she hoped death erased—
was being spoken aloud by a stranger.
Or… not a stranger.
The boy leaned closer to the fence, voice barely a whisper.
"You died… and I died too."
Aarohi gasped.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Her knees gave out, and she sank onto the cold ground, shaking violently.
The boy's voice softened even more.
"But I remembered you, Aara. Even after everything vanished."
Her tears fell harder.
He whispered the final words gently, like a secret—
"I followed you here."
Aarohi choked out a sob, her voice barely a breath—
"Why?"
His answer made her entire soul tremble.
"Because you're the last person I saw before the darkness took me."
Aarohi stared at him with wide, broken eyes as he stepped back into the shadows, disappearing between the trees.
Before she could call out…
he was gone.
The night swallowed him.
And she was left alone—
with her past,
with her fear,
with her guilt,
with the knowledge that death didn't end everything.
Her tears blurred the world as she whispered to the empty air—
"I'm not alone… I'm not alone… oh God… I'm not alone…"
Not in the way she wanted.
Not in the way she needed.
But in a way that terrified her down to her bones.
---