The phone buzzed again that night.
He didn’t check it this time.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall, replaying the message in his head. The words felt alive, as if someone had been watching him for a long time. The consultant’s careless dismissal still echoed in his ears.
Overreacting…
He clenched his fists.
The Call
Just before dawn, his mother collapsed in the kitchen.
The sound of the steel tumbler hitting the floor woke him up. He rushed out and found her seated on the floor, holding her chest, her face pale and breath uneven.
“Amma!” his voice cracked.
The next few hours blurred into chaos—an auto ride at an ungodly hour, hospital corridors filled with antiseptic smells, nurses moving too fast, doctors speaking in measured tones that carried hidden fear.
“She needs to be admitted,” the doctor said. “Observation at least.”
Those words landed hard.
Hospital
She lay on the bed, oxygen mask resting lightly on her face, eyes closed but peaceful. Machines beeped softly beside her. He sat in the chair near the bed, not moving, not blinking much.
This was the first time he truly felt fear—not for himself, but for the one person who anchored his world.
He took out his phone absentmindedly.
No new messages.
That scared him more.
Days Pass
He stopped attending interviews.
Stopped checking emails.
Stopped answering calls.
Everything else faded into the background.
His world narrowed down to hospital timings, medicine schedules, doctor updates, and sitting beside her bed—sometimes talking, sometimes just watching her breathe.
Friends asked questions.
Relatives advised.
Raghav visited once, then twice.
“You can’t put your life on pause,” Raghav said gently.
He looked up slowly. “I already did.”
There was no anger in his voice. Just emptiness.
Mother’s Eyes
One evening, she woke up fully alert and looked at him sitting beside her, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes.
“You didn’t go anywhere today, did you?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Her eyes softened. That same warmth. That same concern.
“You shouldn’t stop your life because of me,” she said quietly.
He forced a smile. “You are my life.”
She reached out and held his hand. Her grip was weak, but it was enough.
But inside him, something shifted.
The evil within stirred again.
Not as fear this time—but as guilt.
The Silence Returns
Late that night, when she was asleep, he stepped out into the hospital corridor. The lights flickered faintly. The place was quiet, eerie.
His phone vibrated.
This time, he looked.
UNKNOWN:
You chose her over yourself.
Good.
Now watch what it costs you.
His blood ran cold.
He scanned the corridor. Empty.
This wasn’t coincidence anymore.
He typed back for the first time.
HIM:
Who are you?
The message showed seen.
No reply.
Inside the ward, his mother stirred slightly, murmuring his name in her sleep.
He rushed back in and sat beside her, gripping her hand tightly, as if holding on to the only thing keeping him grounded.
Whatever this was…
it had waited for him to be weak.
It had waited for him to care too much.
And now, it was watching.
The evil within had found its moment.
