The Silent Companion
Days passed, and Amit tried to convince himself that it was over. The village had stopped whispering about him, his grandmother had returned to her usual prayers, and the nights were… quiet.
Too quiet.
The absence of whispers should have comforted him, but instead, it felt like something was waiting. Watching.
And then, the voice came back.
Not as whispers from the tree.
But inside his own head.
"Amit… you see me, don’t you?"
It was subtle at first—a faint murmur in his thoughts. But then, it started slipping into his daily life.
When he looked into the mirror—his reflection smirked a second too late.
When he walked past dark corners—his shadow moved the wrong way.
When he closed his eyes—someone else was staring back.
The Disguise
One night, as Amit sat on the veranda, his grandmother stepped out, her frail form illuminated by the lantern’s glow.
"You should sleep, beta," she said softly.
Something in her tone made Amit uneasy.
He frowned. "Daadi, you went to sleep hours ago."
She smiled. "I woke up."
His stomach twisted. Something was… off.
The way she stood—too still. The way her shadow stretched unnaturally behind her.
But it was her eyes that sent ice through his veins.
They were too dark.
Too empty.
Like the ones he had seen under the banyan tree.
"Amit," she said again, stepping forward. "Come inside, beta."
Amit gripped the arms of his chair. His grandmother never called him beta twice in one sentence.
His throat went dry.
He knew the rule.
Don’t speak. Don’t acknowledge. Don’t respond.
But fear, confusion, and exhaustion cracked his resolve.
"Who… are you?" he whispered.
And just like that, everything changed.
The Revelation
His "grandmother" smiled wider. Unnaturally wide.
"You finally spoke to me, Amit."
Her voice twisted, overlapping with others, a chorus of forgotten souls.
Amit staggered back. "No… this isn’t real."
She stepped closer. "But I am real. I’ve been waiting, Amit. Waiting for you to answer."
His mind screamed to run, to wake his real grandmother, to flee the village, but his body felt frozen.
"Wh-what do you want?" he stammered.
The thing wearing his grandmother’s face tilted its head. "You. Just like the others."
Amit’s breath caught. "The others…?"
Her smile faded. "The ones who answered before you."
Then, the lantern flickered—and she lunged.
The End
Amit woke up in his bed, gasping. His grandmother sat beside him, her old, wrinkled hands trembling as she clutched his.
"You spoke to it," she whispered.
Amit’s heart pounded. "Was it… real?"
Her eyes welled with tears. "I told you never to respond."
He sat up, dizzy. His mind felt… different.
Like something was inside it.
Watching.
Waiting.
From that day on, Amit was never the same. The whispers didn’t return.
Because they didn’t have to.
Now, they lived within him.
