A Dream That Left a Mark

“Not everything is fun, Aman – I’m telling you,” Neel said, his voice tense. “Bro, chill. Didn’t know you were this superstitious. Planchette? Seriously?” “Unlike you, everything isn’t a joke. I’m not doing this. Do whatever you want.” Aman smirked. “Do whatever we want… you sure about that?” Neel exhaled, frustrated. “Don’t start again, Aman.” “Then be there. 3 a.m. My room.” *** Neel already knew this wouldn’t end well. He had been here before – curious, careless. Until one night changed everything. And even now, he couldn’t refuse. *** At 3 a.m., he pushed the door open. The room was dark. A candle flickered on a three-legged table. The board was already set. They looked up and grinned. “Here comes our psychic medium.” “You’ve done this before, right? Do it again. But I swear, this time you’ll benefit too. We have a simple demand – “ Aman leaned forward. “Just the location of the exam papers.” Neel’s jaw tightened. “That’s not…” “Shut up,” Ayush cut in. “You know what happens if we fail.” Silence. Neel didn’t argue again. He sat down. “Who are we calling?” someone asked. “Surya,” Aman said. Neel froze. “Are you insane? He died here. No one even knows how.” “Exactly,” Aman smiled. “Perfect, right?” Neel said nothing. There was no point. *** They placed their fingers lightly on the planchette. The candle flame flickered wildly. Aman’s voice dropped. “Surya, if you’re here, give us a sign.” Nothing. Then- The planchette jerked. Sharp. Sudden. All four froze. “Who did that?” Ayush whispered. “No one,” Neel said. His voice barely came out. “I didn’t move.” Before anyone could react, it started moving again. Faster. Sliding across the board, hitting one edge, then shifting direction on its own. The candle flame stretched sideways, as if something had rushed past. A cold wave passed through the room. They all looked at Neel. His eyes, dark, almost red in the flickering light. “Stop it,” someone muttered. Neel’s breathing grew heavier. His fingers trembled but they wouldn’t lift. The planchette stopped. Then the table jerked. That was enough. “Turn it! Turn it now!” Aman shouted. They flipped the board. The candle nearly went out. Chairs scraped. Someone stumbled. They ran. No one looked back. But Neel, He didn’t move for a second, he just stood there, staring at the overturned board. His head felt heavy, like a faint buzzing inside. Then slowly… A faint whisper brushed past his ear, though no one was there. By the time he snapped out of it and ran after them, something had already changed Neel was walking down the corridor. Everything looked normal- the same dim lights, the same silence of the hostel at night. His footsteps echoed softly as he moved ahead… He suddenly felt the urge to move out of the hostel, but it was 3:30 a.m. There should be a guard outside. Still, he went. Somehow, he moved out of the college very smoothly… almost too smoothly. He kept walking. Darkness surrounded him. Not just night- something heavier. Then he saw it, a piece of cloth. The cloth felt very familiar… his fingers trembled slightly. Still, he couldn’t recognize the torn piece of a salwar. A strange uneasiness settled in his chest. He started walking again, and this time, he was standing in front of a house. The house was also very familiar and that familiarity made his heartbeat uneven. Then he realized — it was their own house. The old one, just before renovation. “But how is it here…?” He had no answer. He went inside. Each step felt heavier, like something was pulling him deeper. He stood in front of the room which used to be his. His hand slowly reached for the door. The door creaked open. *** He froze. His breath almost stopped. It was him- sitting inside, doing planchette for his beloved sister. Everything rushed back at once. His grip tightened unconsciously around the cloth. It was hers. He had gifted it to her on her birthday. She had laughed, said the colour was too bright. And then wore it the entire evening anyway. For a second, he could see her – Standing in the doorway, adjusting it, smiling at him. And then, that day. That horrifying day. The first time he did planchette. When everything went horribly wrong, the nights after that… the things he saw… the things he could never explain… A sharp wave of panic hit him. “I need to leave.” He tried to run away from the house but his legs felt as heavy as stone. He couldn’t move as if something unseen was holding him there, not letting him escape. He suddenly saw something moving fast from the side of the window. He couldn’t understand whether it was a human or a creature. Before he could think, he started following it. It moved unnaturally fast, slipping through the narrow corridor and he followed, his breath growing uneven. The house didn’t feel the same anymore, the walls seemed longer, the air heavier, as if something was closing in. The figure stopped at the end of a dark passage. Neel froze. Slowly it turned. At first, he couldn’t see its face, only a shadow. Then it shifted slightly. His heart dropped. It was wearing that same torn piece of salwar. “Didi…?” his voice trembled. The figure didn’t respond. Instead, it tilted its head…slow…unnatural… and then suddenly rushed toward him. Neel tried to step back but his body wouldn’t move. As the figure came closer, he felt something cold brush against his hand. A sharp burning sensation shot through his palm. He screamed. — Neel woke up with a gasp. He was in his hostel room. On his bed. Morning light faintly filling the room. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He pressed his hand against his chest. “It was just a dream,” he whispered — but deep inside, something felt strange. He had always wanted to see his sister again , but this time, after seeing her, he wasn’t sure whether he felt happy or not. The heaviness was gone. The fear… fading. A strange relief washed over him, as if some burden had finally been lifted. He slowly relaxed. Then, without thinking, he looked at his hand. And froze. The same dark spot. If all of this was a dream, then how was the mark still there? He didn’t know. This time, he never asked why.