My room was like a sty: books scattered on the floor, clothes strewn in every corner, and unfinished meals left behind. I was lying on my bed, watching my favorite show, filled with excitement and completely indifferent to the state of my room.
Suddenly, the call to the Dhuhr prayer echoed.
As it resonated, a wave of lethargy and superficial exhaustion washed over me. A breeze drifted over my body, soothing and cool; it touched my skin as if slowly seeping through my very pores. I set my phone aside and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, time had slipped away—it was 4:30 PM.
Every muscle in my body ached, as if I had run for miles, though I remembered nothing. A heavy, hollow void consumed me from within—a pressure on my chest with no apparent cause. I was completely drained.
I got up and left my messy room. I showered, hoping to feel refreshed, but that hollow feeling lingered, following me like a shadow. I went out to my friends, and their presence lifted my spirits for a while.
"Siraj, pass the ball!"
We were playing basketball.
The call to the Isha prayer rose.
Samir whispered, "Stop, stop. Let's head to the mosque for Isha, then we can finish playing."
Everyone left, but I remained standing there, clutching the ball.
They were all laughing, having fun, their voices mingling in the air. I whispered to myself, "What are you laughing at? I see nothing funny in this life." My expression was blank, as if I had no reason to live.
Samir waved his hand at me. "Hey, come on, Siraj! Let's go to prayer."
Suddenly, in a heartbeat, I was overcome by that same soothing sensation. A cold breeze drifted over my neck and back, slow and steady. A wave of exhaustion and lethargy crept into me, as if my body were being forcibly pulled toward sleep.
I replied in a weary voice, "Go ahead without me. I'm going home."
I returned home and collapsed onto the bed. My body felt so exhausted that it was as if my bones had turned to sand. I fell into a deep sleep.
My mother entered the room and whispered, "Siraj, aren't you going to prayer? He seems ill. I'll let him rest."
When I woke up, it was 9:00 PM. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. The soothing sensation had vanished, as if it had never been there at all.
I went out to be with my family; my parents were sitting together watching a show.
My mother whispered, "You're awake, dear. Dinner is in the kitchen."
I ate my dinner and returned to my room.
It was still a mess; my mother tried to clean it every day, but the problem was within me.
I couldn't close my eyes; I couldn't sleep. This had been my state for weeks. I watched the show for hours on end as the night crawled by. The silence of the room was so heavy—so incredibly heavy—that I began to hear strange noises.
Suddenly.
A whisper right beside my ear, so very close.
My name echoed in a soft, faint tone.
Siraj... Siraj.
My body froze. I turned quickly, but found nothing.
Terror spread through my chest. I broke into a sweat, feeling cold droplets trickling down my neck.
I tried to calm myself.
I turned the show back on.
But.
The sound echoed again, right by my ear, closer than before—as if it were whispering inside my own head.
Siraj... Siraj... Siraj.
I jumped in terror.
My heart hammered against my ribs so violently I thought it might burst from my chest.
And suddenly.
I saw something black beneath my bookshelf.
A small, dark spot, perfectly still.
Then.
It moved.
It emerged with agonizing slowness, like thick smoke. It grew and grew and grew.
The shadow stretched, swelled, and rose.
Until it became terrifyingly large.
It was a dark form with no clear features, yet its presence was suffocating. The air in the room grew heavy, as if the oxygen had simply vanished.
Terror widened my eyes.
A terror that paralyzed my entire body.
I found no strength to move; I couldn't scream. My breathing became short and jagged.
The dark thing stood before me.
It raised its hand.
A long, dark, unnatural hand.
It reached toward me, slowly.
And with every inch it drew nearer.
I felt a deadly chill crawling through my chest.
"Don't come near me," my voice came out trembling, barely a whisper.
"Don't come near..."
It drew even closer.
I screamed with every ounce of strength left in my chest.
"No... No, no... No... No!"