Unsettling dreams of mine

Scam turns into reality

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I sit beside my phone when it suddenly rings, indicating a new message. The message pops up on my home screen, and to my surprise, it’s written in Russian. I quickly unlock my phone to block the number, but then another message flashes across the screen, this time in English: "You have 6 hours to live."

I am flabbergasted, bamboozled, baffled, and befuddled, my mind reeling with what this ominous message could mean. My heart pounds as I try to make sense of it, but then reality sets in – it must be a scam. Still, I block the number and try to carry on with my work, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside.

By afternoon, I decide to take a nap. My sleep is disturbed by a vivid and terrifying dream. I see a group of friends in a room, laughing and enjoying themselves. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. A terrified man, sensing danger, leaps out of the window. In that instant, someone breaks into the room, smashing the door into a thousand pieces. The intruder grabs the fleeing man by his shirt. His friends desperately try to intervene, but they are powerless. The intruder brutally smashes the man's head against the wall, causing his brain matter to splatter everywhere. Then, as mysteriously as he appeared, the intruder vanishes into thin air.

I jolt awake, drenched in sweat. Though I tell myself it was just a dream, the uneasy feeling lingers, and the cryptic message is still on my mind. Glancing at the clock, I realize I supposedly have only 20 minutes left to live. Trying to calm myself, I head to the rooftop, where my mom and grandmother have laid out spices and papad to dry. I fiddle with them, attempting to distract myself.

Checking my phone again, I see that I have just 5 minutes remaining. Suddenly, I spot a black car approaching our house. My heart races as the car stops in front of our gate. Three men in black suits step out, their expressions grim. They open the gate, draw guns from their back pockets, and head towards our house.

Panicking, I crouch at the edge of the roof to get a better look, praying they won’t see me. But it’s too late. One of the men spots me, raises his gun, and fires. The bullet strikes me, and I fall, my vision blurring as I tumble into darkness.

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