Everyone has that one memory they can never forget.
Mine still hurts when I think about it.
For me, it was a warning.
I was only eight years old when I heard it for the first time. I didn't understand it back then, but the words stayed with me. They followed me as I grew older, like a shadow I could never escape.
"Aira," my grandmother said softly, holding my small hands, "promise me one thing."
I looked up at her. Her eyes were serious, not warm like usual. That scared me.
"What thing?" I asked.
She took a deep breath before speaking again.
"Stay away from him."
I frowned. "From who?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she looked around, as if someone might hear us. Then she lowered her voice.
"The one you'll meet one day," she said. "The one everyone will warn you about."
Her grip on my hands tightened.
"He will bring pain," she continued. "If you get close to him, your life will change. And not in a good way."
I was too young to understand. Still, I nodded.
"I promise," I said, even though I didn't understand what I was promising.
That night, I dreamed of a boy standing alone in the dark. I couldn't see his face, but I felt sad when I looked at him.
Years passed.
I grew up. Life moved on. The warning slowly became just another memory—something I thought no longer mattered.
I was wrong.
Seventeen years old.
That was my age when everything started to change.
It was a quiet afternoon when I first saw him.
I was walking home from school, my bag heavy on my shoulder, my mind tired from classes and noise. The street was almost empty, except for a small shop at the corner and a broken streetlight that never worked.
That's when I noticed him.
He was standing near the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes lowered. He looked normal. Too normal to be someone dangerous.
Dark hair. Calm face. A little tired.
For a moment, our eyes met.
And suddenly, my heart skipped a beat.
I didn't know why. There was no reason. But something inside me felt… strange. Like I had seen him before. Like my soul recognized him.
I quickly looked away and walked faster.
Don't think about it, I told myself.
But that night, I couldn't sleep.
My grandmother's words came back to me, clear and sharp.
Stay away from him.
The next day at school, I heard whispers.
"Did you see him?"
"He's back."
"Bad things always happen around him."
I stopped walking.
"Who?" I asked Lena, my best friend.
She looked at me like I had asked something bad.
"You don't know?" she whispered. "Ray."
The name hit me harder than I expected.
"Ray?" I repeated.
"Yes," she said. "The boy everyone talks about. The one who ruined everything years ago."
My chest felt tight.
"What did he do?" I asked.
Lena shook her head. "I don't know the full story. But my parents said to never get close to him. Everyone says that."
Everyone warned me about him.
The sentence echoed in my mind.
That afternoon, I saw him again.
This time, closer.
He was sitting alone on a old bench , reading a book. The world moved around him, but he seemed separate from it, like he didn't belong.
People passed by, but no one stopped. No one talked to him.
I don't know what came over me.
I should have walked away.
I should have remembered the warning.
But instead, I took one step forward.
Then another.
He glanced up.
Our eyes met again.
There was no anger in them. No danger.
Only loneliness.
And in that moment, I realized something terrifying.
The boy I was warned about…
didn't look like a monster.
He looked like someone the world had already decided to punish.