It was late at night when I heard a knock on the window. My heart thumped with fear. "Bhoot pisach nikat nahi aavey, Mahavir jab naam sunavey..." Slowly, I got up from my study table and tiptoed toward my bed, trying to decide if I should check the window. But something told me not to, so I climbed into bed instead. I was on the verge of running to wake up Mumma and Papa when I heard a sneeze and then... my name, "Pratiksha." Before I could even react, he fell directly onto the floor with a thud. "How did you-" And before I could finish, he quickly clamped his hand over my mouth. What. Is. Happening? - - - If overthinking was a sport, she would have won every time. He, on the other hand, one moment, he was the smoothest guy around. The next, he was doing something completely silly just for fun. Together, they were like a perfect mess. But a twist of destiny tore them apart. Six years later, they met again, the love that once bloomed was now buried under layers of hatred, from both sides. Could they move past the hurt, the anger and the six years that had turned them into stranger?
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