Devan stared at the window. His chin rested on his hand. He wished all the anxiety and loneliness in his chest could vanish instantly.
His gaze was empty, like someone waiting for something that would never truly come. His calm face, in tune with the rainy afternoon, reflected a deep loneliness, not the kind that begged for company, but one that only wanted to be understood.
Behind the glass, raindrops fell in lines, sliding down the clear surface like tears that were never wiped away. The smell of wet soil slipped through the cracks in the wooden frame, carrying old memories that were never invited. Devan took a deep breath and slowly let it out, hoping the weight in his chest would fade with the air.
He winced. His chest felt tight. Not from physical pain, but from something much deeper, something he had never been able to tell anyone. If only a single light would come and lift all the feelings inside him that had already died. Or maybe his life could just end here. The thought came often, like a soft whisper that was both calming and frightening.
"Dev…"
Someone tapped his shoulder carefully, as if afraid of startling the eighteen-year-old boy. The touch was light, hesitant, as though the person was afraid of breaking something fragile.
Devan turned his head slightly, making sure the voice was real and not just an echo in his mind.
"Aunt, what is it?" he asked with a faint smile. A smile he had learned to wear so he looked fine, even though his heart was falling apart.
His aunt placed a basket of bread and fruit on the old wooden table, which creaked softly. She looked around the room, the curtains that were always closed, the stale air, and the silence that had stayed there for too long. She wanted to say many things, but every word felt wrong on her tongue.
Since his parents passed away, Devan had never gone outside. The world beyond the house felt too wide, too loud, and too cruel. Even greeting someone, even meeting people, filled him with fear. Every step outside felt dangerous, as if something terrible was waiting for him out there.
"Don't you want to continue college?" his aunt asked as she sat beside him.
Her voice was gentle, but her worry was clear. She knew the question reopened old wounds, but she didn't know any other way to help.
Devan shook his head slowly. A small movement, but firm.
"No, Aunt," he whispered, as if the decision could not be changed.
His answer silenced her. She looked at him for a few seconds longer, wanting to say that life was not over, that hope still existed. But the words stuck in her throat. She stood up, her steps heavy as she left him alone in the room with his thoughts.
Devan turned back to the heavy rain. His eyes followed small birds still playing among the green grass, even though their bodies were soaked. He envied their courage. Sometimes, he looked up at the darkening sky, as if the afternoon refused to turn into night peacefully.
The wind roared from the west, slamming into the walls of the house. The thin mist slowly thickened, gathering like crowded buildings, swallowing his view little by little. The world outside the window now looked unfamiliar, almost unrecognizable.
Suddenly…
"BOOM!!!"
Lightning struck nearby, as if splitting the sky right above the roof. Devan instantly covered his ears and hid under his white blanket. His heart pounded wildly. His breath was uneven. His body stiffened, waiting for something worse.
The window that had been tightly locked suddenly flew open.
BANG—BANG—BANG!
The window slammed against the wall again and again, mixed with the violent wind rushing inside. The curtains whipped wildly. Rainwater splashed onto the floor. Cold air swept through the room, sending chills across Devan's skin.
His body trembled uncontrollably. The sounds dragged him back to terrifying childhood memories, memories he had buried deep inside. From beneath the thin blanket, he saw a streak of mist slip inside, moving too fast to be clearly seen.
Then came a loud crash.
CRASH!
Several objects fell to the floor. The sound of glass and wood colliding shattered the silence. Devan shook from the cold, yet at the same time, heat spread through his body like a sudden fever. Cold sweat formed on his temples. Still, he did not dare to look. The blanket was the only shield he had.
"Was it… a bird?" he asked himself, trying to find logic in his fear. The thought sounded weak, almost like a desperate prayer.
Then, footsteps.
TAP… TAP… TAP…
They were heavy and slow, as if meant to be heard. The steps stopped right in front of him. Devan held his breath. His body went stiff. His ears rang loudly.
Suddenly, the air filled with noise, wind mixed with overlapping whispers. The sounds came in layers, their source unclear, yet painfully close. A shadow of a hand appeared, slowly reaching toward him. The closer it came, the colder the air felt, piercing straight into his bones.
The air grew heavy. The room seemed to shrink, pressing against his chest until he could barely breathe.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Devan screamed in terror.
…
"Aaaaaaak!!"
Devan jolted awake, breathing hard. His chest rose and fell unevenly, as if the air around him was too tight to breathe. His vision spun before he realized that villagers were standing all around him, their faces filled with worry. Some whispered softly. Others only stared in silence.
His aunt was crying nonstop. Tears streamed down her face as she hugged him tightly, as if she were afraid he might disappear again.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a trembling voice, her hands gripping his shoulders, making sure he was warm and real.
Devan stayed silent. His head felt heavy. His eyes moved quickly, trying to understand what had just happened.
"What happened, Dev?" asked an old man around eighty years old named Surya. He stepped closer and handed Devan a glass of water.
"Drink first."
Devan's hands shook as he took the glass. His lips were dry, his throat burning.
"I… earlier, Sir, I…" Devan stammered. The words stuck in his throat. His face was pale, his eyes darting around as if searching for something that was no longer there.
Mr. Surya smiled gently. It was a calm, reassuring smile, as if he wanted to ease the tension in the room.
"Thank God you're alright," he said softly. Then he turned to the villagers. "Go home now. Let him rest."
One by one, the villagers left the house. The sound of their footsteps slowly faded, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than before.
"Aunt…" Devan said quietly, looking at her tearful face.
His aunt wiped her face and looked at him with watery eyes.
"I was so worried. I was only gone for a few minutes, and you suddenly screamed like you were possessed. Your body was convulsing. I've never seen anything like that before," she said through sobs.
Devan swallowed. His mind was still filled with broken, blurry memories.
"Aunt, I saw lightning and heard thunder. It was extremely loud, not like normal thunder. It felt like a landslide," he said quietly but clearly.
His aunt looked at him in confusion, her brows furrowing slightly.
"There was no thunder. It's been raining the whole time," she replied softly.
Her words made Devan frown. He turned toward the window. There was nothing there except leftover raindrops clinging to the glass. The sky outside looked normal, gray and calm, with no sign of a storm raging.
Devan slowly got up and checked the room. The table, the chairs, the cabinet, everything was in its place. Nothing was broken. There were no traces of mist. No sign that something terrifying had happened.
"You've been staying alone in your parents' house for a month now," his aunt said anxiously. "Don't you want to come live with your uncle and me?"
Devan took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to steady himself.
"It's okay, Aunt," he said at last. "Maybe I was just overthinking."
His aunt did not answer. She only gently stroked his hair, like she used to when he was a child afraid of nightmares. But this time, the worry in her eyes did not fade.
Because Devan knew that what he had felt earlier was not just a dream.