Chapter 6: Whispers in the Dark
The moonlight streamed through the window of Room 217, painting silver stripes across the sleeping forms of Ruhan, Neerav, Sadhya, and Anvesh. But in the bed by the window, Neerav was still awake, his mind racing too fast for sleep.
He could hear Ruhan's steady breathing from the adjacent bed, a familiar sound that usually comforted him. But tonight, it only amplified the turmoil in his heart.
"Bro, you awake?" Ruhan's voice was barely a whisper in the darkness.
Neerav turned toward him, surprised. "Yeah. Can't sleep."
Ruhan sat up, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."
"I know," Neerav said softly. "It's about Kavya, isn't it?"
There was a heavy pause before Ruhan responded. "Bro Neerav, I know you love Kavya. I've seen how you look at her when she's not watching. But I've also seen that Kavya likes Anvesh." His voice was gentle, careful. "And today at the canteen... I saw you smiling while feeding her, trying to steal that moment. And then watching as Kavya fed Anvesh right after."
Neerav let out a slow, shaky breath. "Bro, what can I do? Love is love, even if it's one-sided. The heart wants what it wants." He turned to face Ruhan fully. "Anyway, you also know that Ishika loves you. I've seen how she looks at you—like you're her entire world."
Ruhan's sigh was heavy with resignation. "Yes bro, I know. But I only consider her a good friend. I don't love her in that way. And I've told her this many times, but she just doesn't understand. Or maybe she doesn't want to."
"Like I can't understand why Kavya can't see what's right in front of her," Neerav said, the pain raw in his voice.
"No, man, I'm not saying anything to you," Ruhan said quickly, leaning forward. "I'm just trying to explain it to you, my brother. Sometimes the heart follows paths we can't control."
Just then, the door creaked open and Niwan peered in. "What are you two friends talking about so late at night?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Neerav quickly composed himself. "Nothing, Niwan. I was just telling Ruhan that he treated us really well today at the canteen."
Niwan smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "Yeah, really. Ruhan, thank you. It meant a lot."
Ruhan waved him off. "Hey, in friendship, no sorry, no thank you. That's the rule."
"Okay, fine," Niwan said with a soft chuckle.
For a moment, the three of them sat in comfortable silence, the earlier heaviness lifting slightly. But then Neerav stretched and said, "Come on guys, it's late now. Let's sleep, we have to go to college tomorrow."
"Okay, let's sleep," Ruhan agreed.
As Niwan returned to his room and the others settled into their beds, the hostel slowly quieted down. The boys—Nivan, Ruhan, Neerav, Sadhya, and Anvesh—in their rooms, and the girls—Kavya, Ishika, and Nisha—in theirs.
Sleepless Nights and Unanswered Questions
In the darkness of Room 214, Niwan lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind kept drifting back to that moment with Atharv—the bully's threatening face, the shove, the fear... and then that inexplicable force that had thrown Atharv backward. He replayed the moment in his mind: his hand thrusting forward, the surge of... something... through his veins, and Atharv flying back as if pushed by an invisible wall.
How? The question echoed in his mind. How did I do that?
The memory made his throat dry. He sat up and reached for the water bottle on his bedside table, drinking deeply before settling back into bed. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he drifted into a troubled sleep.
The Awakening
Across the hall, Neerav finally decided to get some water himself. As he sat up, his hand accidentally got tangled in Ruhan's blanket that had slipped to the floor. Irritated, he reached for the water jug on the table near the window—a good six feet from his bed.
But as he stretched his hand toward it, something impossible happened.
The jug didn't wait for him to reach it. Instead, it flew across the room and landed neatly in his outstretched hand, not a drop spilled.
For a moment, Neerav simply stared, his brain refusing to process what had just occurred. The cool ceramic of the jug felt real in his hand. The water sloshed gently inside it. Everything was normal except for the fact that it had traveled through the air to reach him.
Neerav's heart began to pound, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. "What happened?" he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. "The jug was so far away. How did it come into my hand?"
His first, irrational thought was: Is there a ghost here or something?
But even as the fear gripped him, a deeper knowing stirred within. The power hadn't come from outside him. It had surged from within—a strange, unfamiliar energy that had responded to his unspoken need.
With shaking hands, he drank the water, the cool liquid doing nothing to calm the fire of panic and wonder raging inside him. He placed the jug carefully on his bedside table and lay back down, pulling the covers up to his chin.
But sleep didn't come.
He lay in the darkness, staring at his hand—the same hand that had somehow called the jug to it. The moonlight caught the lines of his palm, making them look like strange, mystical symbols.
It wasn't a ghost, he realized with dawning certainty. The power had felt natural, instinctive. As if it had always been there, sleeping within him, waiting for this moment to awaken.
As the initial panic subsided, it was replaced by a terrifying, exhilarating question that echoed in the silence of his mind, growing louder with each passing moment:
If I can do this... what else am I capable of?
Outside, the wind picked up, whispering through the trees as if carrying secrets of its own. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, the sound lonely in the night. But Neerav heard none of it. His entire world had narrowed to that single question, and the strange new reality it represented.
The night suddenly felt endless, filled with possibilities too wonderful and terrible to comprehend.
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