Jihan was standing in front of his room door.
Imama was still in his arms. She looked weak and a little dizzy.
But Jihan's attention was focused on only one thing—
The strange sound that had come from inside the room.
He slowly held the doorknob.
"Jihan…" Imama said softly.
"What happened?"
Jihan whispered,
"I heard some sound from inside…"
Imama's heart started beating fast again.
"Does that mean… someone is inside?"
Jihan slowly opened the door.
Creeeak…
The door opened slowly.
The room was completely dark.
Jihan turned on the light.
The room looked normal.
The bed.
The study table.
The bookshelf.
Everything looked normal.
But one thing felt strange.
The window was open.
Jihan's expression turned serious.
"I didn't leave the window open…"
Imama said weakly,
"Maybe the wind opened it…"
Suddenly—
Thak!
Something fell on the study table.
Both of them quickly turned their heads.
An old black-and-white photograph was lying on the table.
Jihan slowly walked toward it and picked it up.
His eyes widened in shock.
The photograph showed the same school basement.
And in the picture, a few students were standing together.
It looked extremely old.
As if it was taken 40 or 50 years ago.
Imama asked softly,
"What's in it?"
Jihan showed her the photo.
Imama's face suddenly turned pale.
"This… this is impossible…"
Jihan looked confused.
"What?"
Imama pointed toward a girl in the photo with a trembling finger.
"Yeh… yeh ladki…"
Jihan looked carefully.
And in that moment, his heart almost stopped.
The girl in the photo—
looked exactly like Imama.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Jihan said in shock,
"Imama… this photo looks very old…"
Imama's breathing became faster.
"Jihan… main toh kabhi yahan pehle nahi aayi…"
Suddenly—
The room lights started flickering.
And for one second, the lights went completely off.
In the darkness, a faint whisper echoed.
"Welcome back…"
The lights turned on again.
But something in the photo had changed.
Now there was only one person standing in the picture.
Jihan.
Everyone else had disappeared.
Imama was shocked.
"Ji-ji-Jihan… please dubara dekho…"
Jihan was shocked too, but he tried to calm himself.
"Maybe it's just our imagination… you're very tired, Imama."
Imama looked extremely weak.
Jihan said softly,
"Imama… Quran ki tilawat karo."
Imama went to the washroom and performed wazu.
Then she sat on the bed and started reciting the Quran.
As soon as her recitation filled the room—
Suddenly a painful voice echoed.
"Bass… basss… please… ab nahi… basss krooo…"
Jihan froze.
But he looked at Imama and said firmly,
"Imama… rukna mat. Aage padho."
Jihan quickly brought Zam-Zam water.
Imama recited the verses and blew over the room and around the house.
Slowly, the strange atmosphere in the room began to calm down.
Jihan kept watching Imama.
He was scared… but not for himself.
He was scared that something might happen to Imama.
After the recitation, Imama was exhausted.
Jihan gently picked her up in his arms and laid her on the bed.
Her eyes slowly closed.
Jihan thought she had fallen asleep.
He sat beside her and whispered softly.
"I liked you from the very first day…"
"No matter how many girls have a crush on me…"
"I will always belong to you… only you."
Imama's heart started beating very fast.
But she kept pretending to be asleep.
Jihan held her hand.
And gently kissed it.
"I'm sorry… meri jaan…"
Just then Imama opened her eyes.
"Jihan… what happened?"
Jihan got a little nervous.
"Nothing… I think I disturbed your sleep… sorry."
Imama smiled softly.
"Accha ji?"
Suddenly her eyes fell on Jihan's hand.
There was a wound and blood was coming out.
Imama got scared.
"Jihan! Tumhe chot lag gayi!"
Jihan panicked.
"Imama tumhe kahin lagi toh nahi?!"
Imama laughed softly.
"Pagal… tumhe chot lagi hai."
She took him to the washroom.
Cleaned the wound.
Applied cream.
And tied a cloth around it as a bandage.
Then she touched his forehead.
"Jihan… tumhe fever hai."
Jihan smiled.
"I'll be fine… you should rest."
A few minutes later, Imama picked up Jihan's childhood photo and started looking at it.
Jihan tried to snatch it from her.
"Imama don't look at that!"
While pulling the photo—
They both lost balance.
And fell on the bed.
Now they were extremely close to each other.
Jihan's eyes slowly moved toward Imama's lips.
His heart was beating fast.
He slowly leaned closer.
Just as he was about to kiss her—
Knock… Knock…
Jihan quickly moved away.
"Ahemm… sorry…"
He opened the door.
It was Ahmad.
"Bro you here?"
Jihan said angrily,
"Saale meri zindagi ki panoti!"
Ahmad looked confused.
"Abey kya bak raha hai?"
At that moment Imama's voice came from inside the room.
"Jihan… kaun hai?"
Ahmad started laughing.
"Accha… bhabhi andar hain."
"Enjoy bro."
Jihan pushed him away.
"Ja yahan se!"
He closed the door.
Imama came closer.
"What happened?"
Jihan replied casually,
"Nothing… Ahmad was asking if we had vegetables."
Imama said,
"You could have told me… I would have cooked."
Jihan smiled.
"Mohtarma… you will only cook for me."
Then Jihan walked to the cupboard.
He took out a diamond ring.
Then he went down on one knee in front of Imama.
"Imama…"
"Will you marry me?"
Imama blushed.
"Jihan… we are still in 11th grade…"
Jihan smiled.
"I know… not now."
"But promise me that you will be mine."
Imama looked shy and said softly,
"Theek hai…"
Jihan happily held her hand and put the ring on her finger.
Later that night, both of them lay on the bed.
Suddenly the lights went out.
Actually it was Jihan's plan.
Imama said nervously,
"Jihan… mere paas aa jao… mujhe darr lag raha hai."
Jihan smiled slightly.
"Are you sure?"
Imama placed her head on his arm.
And soon fell asleep.
Morning sunlight slowly entered the room.
Jihan gently moved the hair away from Imama's face.
But suddenly—
He noticed something strange in the mirror.
There was a mysterious symbol on his arm.
Like a strange mark or tattoo.
And it wasn't washing off.
At that moment his phone started ringing.
Jihan picked up the call.
But as soon as he heard the voice—
The phone slipped from his hand.