By the time I reached home—
It was already evening.
The sky was darker than usual.
Or maybe…
It just felt that way.
I stood in front of the gate for a second.
Staring.
"…It's just home," I muttered.
Normal.
Safe.
Familiar.
That's what it was supposed to be.
Right?
I pushed the gate open.
It creaked slightly.
The sound felt… louder than it should've.
I stepped inside.
Everything looked the same.
The small garden.
The old chair near the door.
The lights inside—
Already on.
"…Mom's home," I said under my breath.
Good.
That was normal.
I walked in.
The door wasn't locked.
It opened easily.
And the moment I stepped inside—
A strange warmth hit me.
Not comforting.
Just… noticeable.
Like stepping into a different space.
"Ayaan?"
Her voice came from the kitchen.
Normal.
Calm.
Familiar.
I exhaled.
"Yeah, I'm back."
"Wash your hands, dinner's almost ready."
Same tone.
Same routine.
Nothing strange.
Nothing wrong.
And yet—
Something felt off.
"I'll be there," I replied.
I moved toward the sink.
Washed my hands.
Looked up at the mirror.
For a second—
I hesitated.
Half expecting something to be there.
Something wrong.
But no.
Just me.
Tired.
Normal.
"…You're overthinking," I muttered.
Maybe I was.
I walked into the kitchen.
Mom stood there.
Cooking.
Same as always.
She glanced at me.
Smiled slightly.
"You're late."
"Yeah… school stuff."
She nodded.
Didn't ask more.
That was normal.
She wasn't the type to push.
"…Eat first," she said. "Then study."
"Yeah."
I sat down.
The food smelled normal.
Everything looked normal.
So why—
Did it feel like something wasn't?
"You're quiet," she said.
"I'm just tired."
A pause.
Then—
"Don't stay up too late tonight."
My hand stopped mid-air.
"…Why?"
She didn't look at me.
"Just saying."
Something about that—
Didn't feel casual.
"…Okay."
I didn't push.
But I noticed.
Every word.
Every pause.
Every little thing.
Dinner ended quickly.
Too quickly.
"I'll go to my room," I said.
"Hmm."
No questions.
No stopping me.
I walked out.
The hallway felt… longer than usual.
Or maybe—
I was just noticing things more now.
I reached my room.
Opened the door.
Same as always.
Bed.
Desk.
Window.
Nothing changed.
I stepped in.
Closed the door behind me.
And exhaled.
"…Finally."
Silence.
For a moment—
Everything felt normal again.
I sat on my bed.
Ran a hand through my hair.
Thinking.
Too many things.
Too many questions.
The door.
That version of me.
Those entities.
"…This is getting out of control," I muttered.
A soft knock.
I froze.
"…Mom?"
No response.
Another knock.
Lighter this time.
Not from the door.
From the window.
My body tensed instantly.
"…No way."
Slowly—
I turned.
The curtain moved slightly.
Like someone had touched it.
My heartbeat picked up.
"Not again…"
I stood up.
Carefully.
Step by step.
Moved closer.
My hand reached out—
And pulled the curtain aside.
Nothing.
Just darkness outside.
Empty.
Still.
I exhaled.
"…I'm losing it."
"Ayaan."
I froze.
That voice—
Wasn't my mom.
It came from behind me.
Inside the room.
My blood ran cold.
Slowly—
I turned.
And my breath stopped.
She stood near the door.
Calm.
Watching me.
Like she had always been there.
"…Meera?"
Silence.
For a second—
I couldn't process it.
"What—how did you—?"
"You took long enough," she said.
My mind blanked.
"…What?"
She tilted her head slightly.
Studying me.
Not smiling.
Not surprised.
Just… observing.
"You changed," she said.
That sentence—
Hit harder than anything today.
"…What are you doing here?" I asked.
"My mom is downstairs," she replied casually. "I came to meet your mom."
That—
Was normal.
Too normal.
Then why—
Didn't it feel normal?
"You didn't knock," I said.
"I did."
"No, you didn't."
"I did."
Silence.
That didn't make sense.
At all.
My chest felt tight again.
"…How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough."
That answer—
Was not okay.
At all.
"What do you want, Meera?" I asked.
She stepped closer.
Slow.
Calm.
No hesitation.
"I wanted to see something," she said.
"See what?"
A pause.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
Deep.
Focused.
"You."
That felt… wrong.
"Congratulations," I said dryly. "You've seen me. Now what?"
"You're finally active."
My breath stopped.
"…What?"
There it was.
That word again.
Active.
Same tone.
Same meaning.
"…What do you mean by that?" I asked.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
Her gaze dropped.
To my chest.
To the mark.
Even through the shirt—
It felt like she could see it.
"You saw it, didn't you?" she said quietly.
My body went still.
"…Saw what?"
"The door."
Silence.
Complete silence.
My heartbeat—
Loud.
Heavy.
Unstable.
"…How do you know about that?" I asked slowly.
She looked back at me.
And for the first time—
A faint smile appeared.
Not warm.
Not friendly.
Just… knowing.
"Because," she said,
"I've been waiting for you to see it."
My mind went blank.
"…Waiting?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
Another step closer.
Now she was right in front of me.
Too close.
"Because now," she said softly,
"You're finally ready."
"…Ready for what?"
A pause.
A long one.
Then—
She said the one thing—
That made everything worse.
"To open it."
My chest burned.
Sharp.
Painful.
And for the first time—
It wasn't just reacting.
It was responding.
To her.