The first time Ayaan noticed something was wrong, it was so small he almost ignored it.
"Present, sir."
His voice echoed softly across the classroom—but the teacher didn't respond.
Ayaan frowned slightly, sitting up straighter in his chair. Maybe the teacher hadn't heard him.
"Present," he said again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
The teacher continued reading names from the register as if Ayaan had never spoken. One by one, students answered, their voices acknowledged, their existence confirmed.
But Ayaan's name… never came.
A faint uneasiness settled in his chest.
That's strange.
He leaned toward the boy sitting next to him. "Hey… did he skip my name?"
The boy didn't react.
Ayaan blinked. "Oye, I'm talking to you."
No response.
Now that was weird.
He reached out and lightly tapped the boy's shoulder.
Nothing.
Not even a glance.
Ayaan slowly pulled his hand back, his fingers curling slightly as a strange chill crept up his spine.
"...What?"
The rest of the class passed in a blur.
Ayaan tried speaking to others—calling their names, asking simple questions—but it was like he didn't exist. Not ignored. Not avoided.
Just… not there.
As if his voice couldn't reach them.
As if he wasn't part of their world anymore.
When the bell rang, students got up and left in groups, laughing, chatting, living.
Ayaan stood there for a moment, watching them.
Then he quickly stepped into someone's path.
The girl walked straight through him.
No.
Not through.
She bumped into him—but didn't react at all. No apology. No irritation.
Nothing.
Ayaan stumbled back slightly, his heart pounding.
"Hey! Watch it!" he snapped instinctively.
The girl kept walking.
Didn't even turn around.
"Okay… this isn't funny."
His voice sounded smaller now.
Uncertain.
He rushed out of the classroom and into the corridor. Students filled the hallway, noise echoing everywhere—but it all felt distant, like he was underwater.
"Ali!" Ayaan called out, spotting his friend near the lockers.
Relief flickered inside him. Finally.
He walked up quickly. "Ali, bro, something weird is going—"
Ali shut his locker and walked away.
Didn't even look at him.
Didn't even hesitate.
It was like Ayaan wasn't there.
The uneasiness turned into something darker.
Fear.
"Okay… okay, calm down," Ayaan muttered, running a hand through his hair. "There's a logical explanation."
There had to be.
Right?
He pulled out his phone.
Opened his contacts.
Scrolled down.
And froze.
His own name… wasn't there.
Ayaan's breath hitched.
"No… no, that's not possible."
He quickly opened his social media.
Profile picture: gone.
Username: changed to something random.
Messages?
Empty.
Like he had never existed.
His hands began to shake.
"This is a glitch… yeah… just a glitch…"
But deep down, he knew.
This wasn't normal.
He rushed toward the washroom, pushing the door open and stepping inside. The room was empty.
Silent.
Cold.
He walked up to the mirror.
For a moment, everything looked fine.
Then—
Something flickered.
Ayaan leaned closer.
His reflection… lagged behind.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
"…What the hell…"
His reflection blinked.
Ayaan hadn't.
He stumbled back, his heart racing wildly now.
"This… this isn't real…"
And then it happened.
The first true sign.
The first undeniable proof.
The name tag on his uniform…
faded.
Right before his eyes.
Ayaan stared at it, frozen.
His mind struggling to process what he was seeing.
Letter by letter—
it disappeared.
"A… y… a… a… n…"
Gone.
Only blank fabric remained.
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
And in that silence…
Ayaan Rehmani felt something he had never felt before.
Not loneliness.
Not fear.
But something far worse.
The feeling of being erased.