The library settled back into its usual hush 🤫Pages turned 📄Pens scratched ✏️Time behaved ⏳
Normal.Safe.Predictable.
Barfi lifted his eyes from the book 📘
Across the table—
A girl with a ponytail sat facing him 🎀
Still.Quiet.Watching. 👀
She didn't smile 🙂❌Didn't frown 🙁❌
She just looked at him like she had been waiting.
Barfi blinked 😐
She was still there.
He tilted his head slightly 🤨She tilted hers too 🤨
Their eyes met.
Something cold brushed his spine 🥶Not fear.Recognition.
Miko Sees Nothing ✏️📖
Barfi glanced sideways.
Miko was highlighting a paragraph 🟨Focused.Calm.
He looked back.
The girl hadn't moved.
"Do you… need something?" Barfi asked softly 🗣️
The girl said nothing.
Not a sound.Not a breath.
Miko looked up.
"Who are you talking to?" 🤔
Barfi hesitated.
"…Her."
Miko followed his gaze 👀
Empty chair.
Nothing.
No bag 🎒No books 📚No girl 🚫
She frowned.
"There's no one there, Barfi."
Barfi looked again.
The chair was empty now.
Gone.
Like she was never there.
His chest tightened slightly 💭Not fear.Confusion.
"…Okay," he said quietly.
They returned to studying.
But Barfi didn't read a single word after that.
The Ride Home 🚲🌆
College ended.
Barfi rode his bicycle home 🚲The repaired frame creaked softly 🔧
The street was crowded.
People walked past him 🚶♂️🚶♀️Through him.
Laughing 😂Talking 🗨️Existing 🌍
But something was wrong.
No one looked at him.No one reacted.
A man almost walked straight into him—
And passed through.
Like Barfi wasn't there.
Barfi slowed.
"…That's new," he murmured.
His fingers tightened on the handle 🫱
The Old Man on the Bench 🪑👴
An old man sat alone on a bench.
Still.Solid.Real.
Barfi stopped his bicycle.
"Uncle," he said politely 🙂"Do you want coffee or tea?" ☕🍵
The old man looked up sharply.
His eyes widened 😳
"…You can see me?"
Barfi smiled lightly.
"Of course. I'm not blind."
The old man's hands trembled ✋
"No… I mean… really see me."
Barfi laughed softly 😅
"What are you? A ghost?" 👻
The old man stared at him.
Didn't laugh.Didn't blink.
"…Yes."
Barfi's smile faded just a little.
"…Okay," he said slowly."That's unexpected."
The old man exhaled like someone who had been holding his breath for years 😮💨
"I've been sitting here for months," he whispered."No one hears me.No one sees me."
Barfi scratched his head 🤍
"That sounds… lonely."
"It is," the old man said softly.
Walter Arrives 🛍️
"BARFI!!"
Walter's voice echoed down the street 📢
Barfi turned.
Walter walked up, holding a grocery bag 🛒
"Why are you parked like a statue?"
He followed Barfi's gaze.
"…Why are you talking to air?"
Barfi looked back at the bench.
The old man was gone.
The bench was empty.
Cold.
Barfi swallowed.
"…I thought someone was there."
Walter stared at him.
Long.Carefully.
"…You okay, kid?"
Barfi nodded.
"I think so."
Walter forced a laugh 😅
"Good.Because if you start seeing ghosts now, I'm retiring."
They walked toward the café together 🚶♂️🚶♂️
Barfi glanced back once more.
For just a second—
He thought he saw the old man standing at the corner.
Smiling 🙂
And then—
Nothing.
Barfi said nothing.
But deep inside, a quiet thought formed 💭
Maybe healing didn't close every door.
Maybe it opened new ones instead. 🚪✨
A Night Without Sleep 🌙
Barfi didn't sleep that night.
Not because of fear.Because of confusion.
The ponytail girl 🎀The old man 👴People walking through him 🚶♂️💨
By morning, he was sitting in front of Dr. Putin.
The café was quiet.Too quiet.
The Test 🧠🩺
Dr. Putin listened carefully 👂Didn't interrupt.
The hill 🏔️The ritual 🔺The bear 🐻The boy 👦The girl in the library 🎀The old man on the bench 👴
When Barfi finished, Dr. Putin leaned back.
Professional.Calm.
"Barfi… what you experienced was extreme trauma mixed with supernatural stress," he said."Your mind is still processing it."
"So… imagination?" Barfi asked.
"Yes," Dr. Putin replied gently."Hallucinations after near-death experiences are common."
Barfi nodded.
Then—
He looked past Dr. Putin's shoulder.
"There is a girl standing behind you."
Dr. Putin's jaw tightened slightly.
"There is no one there, Barfi."
"She has a ponytail," Barfi added."She's looking at your books."
Dr. Putin did not turn around.
Instead, he slowly raised his hand behind his back ✋
"Alright," he said calmly."Tell me what number I'm holding."
Barfi blinked.
He looked at the girl.
She glanced at Dr. Putin's hand.Then at Barfi.
"Three."
Correct.
Again.
"Five."
Correct.
Again.
"Two."
Correct.
Again.
"Four."
Correct.
Again.Again.Again.
Thirty-four times.
Barfi was never wrong.
The room grew cold 🥶
The girl stepped back.
She smiled at Barfi 🙂
Then vanished.
Like smoke 💨
The Truth ⚠️
Dr. Putin stood slowly.
His voice changed.
"This is not imagination."
Barfi swallowed.
"What is it then?"
Dr. Putin didn't answer.
He locked the door 🔒Picked up his phone 📱
Dialed one number.Then another.
"Everyone," he said quietly,"come to the café.Now."
He looked at Barfi again.
Fear.And respect.
"Whatever came back from that hill with you…"Dr. Putin whispered,
"…it didn't leave."
Barfi sat silently.
Feeling something new again.
Not fear.Not emptiness.
Awareness. 👁️
And somewhere unseen—
Something was watching. 🌫️