shhh it's not you, it's me

Chapter 2: The Unseen Force

The morning light barely pierced through the curtains as Aarush sat on the edge of his bed, the
events of the previous night still fresh in his mind. His hand rested on the sheets, but his
thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in confusion and fear. The shadow—the voice—it didn’t
make sense. How could something like that be real? Yet, in his gut, he knew it wasn’t a dream.
The dread he felt was too real, too vivid to be imagined.
Aarush had always been alone, in a way. He didn’t have many friends, and he was okay with
that. Growing up, he never quite fit in with the other kids. They had their cliques, their own
little worlds, but Aarush was on the outside, always watching from a distance. His father was
distant, often preoccupied with work. But there was one person who always seemed to
understand him, even when he couldn't understand himself: his mother, Priya. Aarush’s mom
was the one constant in his life, his only real companion. She always knew when something
was wrong, even if he didn’t say a word. There were times when Aarush felt like the weight of
the world was pressing down on him, but his mother had a way of lightening the load, of making
him feel that he wasn’t alone.
Priya wasn’t just a mother—she was his best friend. Whenever Aarush needed to talk or simply
needed a quiet presence, she was there. She would make him his favorite food when he was
feeling down, sit with him in the silence when he couldn’t bring himself to speak. She had a
calming presence, and Aarush always found solace in her voice, in her reassurance.
But it wasn’t enough to stop the gnawing sense of loneliness that followed him everywhere.
Aarush’s parents were too busy to notice the signs of how much he struggled, how much he
ached for connection. And even though Priya tried her best, she couldn’t be there all the time.
She had her own responsibilities. Still, Aarush held on to the moments they shared—the small,
fleeting moments that made him feel less invisible in a world that often seemed too big for him.
That morning, Priya had already left for work, as she always did. Aarush was left alone in the
house, the silence pressing down on him like a heavy weight. He sat in the quiet for a while,
trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had followed him through the night. The voice. The
figure. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make sense of what was happening, but he knew he
wasn’t imagining it. Aarush had always been skeptical of superstitions. He didn’t believe in
ghosts or spirits. But last night had been different. The whisper had been too real, too vivid, for
him to brush off. Sighing, he stood up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he tried to focus on something else. His mother’s soft voice echoed in his mind, reminding him to stay calm, to breathe through
the fear. "Remember, Aarush, you are strong. You can handle anything," Priya had told him
just yesterday after a small incident at school that had left him feeling more isolated than ever.
The words should have comforted him, but today, they felt distant. Aarush walked slowly to
the kitchen and poured himself some cereal. He could still feel the unease in the pit of his
stomach, a tight knot that wouldn’t go away. He tried to focus on eating, on doing something
normal, but it was impossible to ignore the growing sense that something was wrong.
Something was out of place.
His phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from his mother: "Just wanted to check in.
Hope you're okay, my dear. Love you."
Aarush smiled faintly, his heart warmed by the simple gesture. Priya always made sure to check
in on him, no matter how busy she was. It was something he cherished deeply, even though he
didn’t often say it.
"I'm okay, Mom. Just a little tired," he typed back, though the truth was far from that.
He placed the phone down, trying to push the unsettling thoughts aside. Aarush had always
been a loner, but now, more than ever, he wished he could talk to someone about what he was
experiencing. He could try confiding in his mother, but the fear of worrying her, of seeing that
look of concern on her face, kept him silent. She already had enough on her plate. As he walked
out the door to school, the sun was out, casting warm light over everything. But Aarush couldn’t
shake the feeling of being watched, the cold, creeping sensation that followed him like a
shadow. He glanced around, half-expecting to see something in the distance, but there was
nothing. Still, he couldn’t escape the feeling that something was wrong.
The halls of school felt like a maze, filled with laughter and chatter, but none of it reached
Aarush. He walked the corridors like a ghost, invisible to everyone, even though he was
surrounded by people. Aarush had always been that way—quiet, distant, a loner in a world
where everyone else seemed to fit in so effortlessly. His classmates had their groups, their
conversations, their lives. But Aarush? He was just a shadow in the corner of the room. It didn’t
bother him much; he had learned to live with it. But sometimes, just sometimes, he wished for
something different. He never expected her to notice him. Tina. She was the complete opposite
of Aarush—outgoing, bubbly, the kind of person who lit up every room she entered. A
cheerleader, the center of attention, the girl everyone loved. Her laugh was loud and contagious, and she always had a smile for everyone. Aarush had seen her around—he couldn’t avoid it—
but he never thought she would ever pay him any attention.
That day, as he walked toward his next class, she spotted him.
"Aarush!" Tina’s voice rang out, and Aarush couldn’t help but flinch, startled by the sudden
attention. She was walking toward him, her usual cheerful smile stretched across her face, the
sunlight catching her hair and making it glow like a halo. Tina was everything he wasn’t:
confident, popular, loved by everyone. And yet, here she was, calling his name like they were
friends. He tried to ignore the tightening in his chest, but it was there. He was always awkward
around people, especially someone like Tina. She was so different from him, so out there—the
kind of person who belonged in the spotlight, while he was content to stay in the shadows.
"Hey, Aarush, how’s it going?" Tina asked, her voice light and friendly. She stopped just in
front of him, her gaze steady, as if she truly wanted to know. Aarush shifted uncomfortably,
feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Uh, it's... okay," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes,
avoiding her gaze. He wasn’t good at conversations, especially with someone like Tina. She
was too bright, too full of life. What could someone like her possibly want to know about
someone like him? Tina tilted her head, noticing the discomfort in his response. She smiled, a
bit softer this time. "You know, I’ve seen you around. You’re always alone." She paused, her
smile faltering slightly. "Is everything okay? You don’t seem like you’re... you know, having
a good time." The words cut deeper than Aarush expected. He hated being seen like this, like
someone who couldn’t fit in, someone who didn’t belong.
"I'm fine," Aarush muttered quickly, his voice almost a whisper. "I’m just... not really in the
mood to talk today."
Tina blinked, clearly surprised by his response. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then
her smile returned, though it was a little more forced now. "Okay, no problem. But hey, if you
ever want to talk or... I don’t know, hang out, just let me know!" Aarush nodded curtly, grateful
for the way she didn’t press further, but at the same time, the distance between them felt so
much wider now. He hated that he couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t open up like she expected him
to. It wasn’t her fault, not really. She was just being kind, but it was too much for him. He
wasn’t someone who shared his feelings, especially not with someone like Tina.
As Tina turned to leave, Aarush couldn’t shake the pang in his chest. She had tried, but he had
pushed her away. She didn’t deserve that. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to explain why he felt so distant, so disconnected. It wasn’t just his loneliness—it was the weight of everything
else, the creeping sense that something was terribly wrong, that something was after him.
Aarush sighed, watching her walk away. The hallways seemed even emptier now, like they
were swallowing him up. But despite his frustration, despite the shame that came from pushing
Tina away, he couldn’t help but feel a slight ache in his chest—a sadness that lingered,
reminding him how much he longed for something more than the emptiness he had always
known.
As the school day ended and the students poured out onto the playground, Aarush lingered
behind, unsure of what to do. His mind was a jumble of confusion and fear. He needed to talk
to someone, but he didn’t know how. And then, almost as if it were fate, he saw her again—
Tina, surrounded by her friends, laughing, talking, living. But today, there was something
different about her. She wasn’t just the cheerful, outgoing girl he had seen all these days. She
was looking at him, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. Aarush wasn’t sure why,
but he felt an overwhelming urge to talk to her. He had pushed her away earlier, but now,
something about her presence seemed like the only thing that might bring him peace. Taking a
deep breath, he started to walk toward her. The noise of the playground, the shouts and laughter
of the other students, seemed to fade away as he focused on his own steps. He was almost there,
just a few feet away when—
CRACK
A sharp, sudden pain exploded across his head, and everything went black. The world around
him blurred into a haze, and for a moment, it felt like he was floating in darkness. His body
went limp, and he crumpled to the ground, his thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and fear.
Before everything went quiet, he heard a familiar voice, distant but clear.
"Aarush!"
It was Tina’s voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. He wanted to respond,
wanted to tell her he was fine, but no words came. The last thing he felt was her gentle touch,
her voice shaking with worry.
And then, nothing.