The Girl Who Knew Tomorrow

THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOMORROW Chapter 1 — The Boy in the Dream Aarohi had learned one important rule about dreams: Never ignore the ones that come true. She was nine years old when it first happened. Back then, she didn't understand what was happening. She thought dreams were simply strange stories created by the mind while people slept. One night, she dreamed about her father. He was standing outside their house, holding a bright blue umbrella. The next afternoon, it rained heavily. When her father came home, he was carrying a blue umbrella. Exactly the same one. Aarohi had stared at him for almost a minute. "What's wrong?" he had asked. "Nothing." She hadn't told him. She thought it was a coincidence. Then it happened again. She dreamed about her school assembly. In the dream, her mathematics teacher dropped a pile of papers while walking toward the stage. The next morning, the exact thing happened. Then she dreamed about a flowerpot breaking outside her classroom. She tried to prevent it by moving the pot somewhere safe. But during lunch, a student accidentally knocked it over. Aarohi had stood there, staring at the broken pieces. That was when she understood. Her dreams weren't random. They showed her things that hadn't happened yet. At first, she thought it was a gift. Then she realized something terrifying. She couldn't control what she saw. And she couldn't always change what was going to happen. So she made another rule. Don't interfere. For seven years, she followed it. Until tonight. --- Aarohi was standing on a railway platform. She didn't know how she had gotten there. There was no train. No crowd. No stationmaster. No announcements. Nothing. Only silence. A cold wind moved through the empty station, carrying the smell of rain and something metallic. Aarohi looked around. The platform seemed abandoned for decades. The benches were covered with dust. Old posters hung from the walls, their corners curled and torn. Several lights flickered overhead. She looked toward the station sign. Her eyes narrowed. RAVIPUR STATION She had never heard that name before. Yet the sight of it made her heart beat faster. She took a step forward. Her shoes made a soft sound against the concrete. Tap. She stopped. The sound echoed. Tap. Tap. Tap. Aarohi looked down the railway tracks. They disappeared into a wall of darkness. Something moved in the distance. She couldn't tell what it was. "Hello?" Her voice travelled across the empty platform. There was no answer. She took another step. Then she heard footsteps behind her. Aarohi froze. Someone was walking. Slowly. She turned around. Nothing. The platform was empty. She waited. Silence. Then— Tap. Another footstep. Closer. Aarohi's heart began pounding. "Who's there?" The lights above her flickered. Once. Twice. Three times. Then one of them remained on. Under that single yellow light stood a boy. Aarohi stared. He looked about her age. He was wearing a dark school uniform. His hair was slightly messy, as if he had been running. Around his neck hung a thin silver chain. At the end of it was a small key. Aarohi didn't recognize him. But somehow… She felt like she did. The boy stared at her. Neither spoke. Finally, he took a step forward. "Aarohi." She stepped backward. "How do you know my name?" The boy didn't answer. He looked toward the enormous clock hanging above the station entrance. The clock showed: 11:11 Then he looked back at her. "You shouldn't be here." "Where am I?" "Ravipur." "Why am I here?" His expression changed. Fear appeared in his eyes. "Because you're starting to remember." Aarohi shook her head. "Remember what?" The boy looked at the clock again. "Everything." "I don't understand." "You will." He took another step. Aarohi could finally see his face clearly. There was something familiar about him. Something she couldn't explain. "Who are you?" The boy whispered, "Reyansh." Aarohi repeated the name silently. Reyansh. Something inside her mind moved. A memory? A feeling? She couldn't tell. Then the boy suddenly looked terrified. He pointed behind her. "Listen to me." Aarohi turned. There was nothing there. When she turned back, Reyansh was closer. His voice became almost a whisper. "Tomorrow, you will forget me." Aarohi's heart raced. "What?" "Whatever happens tomorrow, don't trust anyone." "Who?" "The person who wakes you." Aarohi stared at him. "Why?" The lights went out. Everything became black. She heard Reyansh's voice one final time. "You have already forgotten once." Then— A train whistle screamed through the darkness. Aarohi woke up. --- She sat upright in bed. Her heart was pounding. For several seconds, she didn't know where she was. Then she saw her room. Her study table. Her books. Her schoolbag. The curtains moving slightly near the window. Everything was normal. Aarohi looked at the digital clock. 6:30 a.m. Her alarm began ringing. She turned it off. Her hands were trembling. She had never experienced a dream like that before. Usually, her future dreams were short. Simple. A broken cup. A teacher entering a classroom. Rain. A conversation. Nothing strange. But this dream had felt different. The station. The clock. The boy. His voice. Most importantly— His final words. You have already forgotten once. Aarohi touched her forehead. "Just a dream." She said it quietly. "Just a dream." Then— Knock. Knock. Knock. Someone knocked on her bedroom door. "Aarohi?" Her mother's voice. Aarohi froze. The boy's words immediately returned. Don't trust the person who wakes you. She stared at the door. "Mom?" "Yes?" "Did you wake me?" There was a pause. "Of course. You have school." Aarohi swallowed. She slowly got out of bed. Then she noticed something on her bedside table. Something that hadn't been there before. An old photograph. She stopped. The photograph was faded. Its edges were damaged. Aarohi picked it up. Her fingers became cold. The picture showed an old railway station. The same station from her dream. RAVIPUR STATION. Aarohi's breathing stopped. She turned the photograph over. There was writing on the back. Four words. YOU MUST NEVER REMEMBER. She stared at them. Then the bedroom door opened slightly. "Aarohi?" She quickly hid the photograph under her pillow. "Coming!" She changed into her school uniform and went downstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. "You're late today." Aarohi didn't answer. She watched her mother. Her mother looked completely normal. Too normal. Aarohi pulled out a chair. "Mom." "Hmm?" "Have you ever heard of Ravipur Station?" The spoon in her mother's hand stopped. Only for a second. But Aarohi noticed. Her mother looked at her. "What did you say?" "Ravipur Station." Her mother's face changed. It was subtle. A tiny tightening around her eyes. A slight pause in her breathing. Then she smiled. "No." Aarohi stared at her. "Are you sure?" "Of course." "Why did you look scared?" "I didn't." "You did." Her mother put the spoon down. "Aarohi, where did you hear that name?" "In a dream." Her mother's expression immediately disappeared. "What kind of dream?" "A strange one." Her mother looked toward the window. Then back at Aarohi. "You should forget it." Aarohi's heart sank. That sentence sounded familiar. Not from her dream. From somewhere else. "Why?" "Because dreams don't mean anything." "Mine do." Her mother went silent. Aarohi waited. Finally, her mother said, "You need to get ready for school." --- The school bus arrived at 7:20. Aarohi sat beside Meera. Her best friend immediately noticed something was wrong. "You look like you haven't slept." "I didn't." "Bad dream?" Aarohi nodded. "The future kind?" "Not exactly." Meera turned toward her. "What happened?" Aarohi looked around the bus. Most students were talking loudly. Nobody was paying attention. She lowered her voice. "I dreamed about a railway station." "Okay." "An abandoned one." "Okay..." "There was a boy." Meera smiled. "A boy?" "Don't start." "I'm not starting anything." "He knew my name." Meera's smile disappeared. "What?" "He called me Aarohi." "Did you know him?" "No." "What did he say?" "He said tomorrow I would forget him." Meera stared at her. "That's creepy." "It gets worse." Aarohi pulled out the photograph. Meera looked at it. Her expression changed. "Where did you get this?" "It was on my bedside table." "This morning?" "Yes." "Did your mother put it there?" "I don't know." Meera turned the photograph over. She read the words. YOU MUST NEVER REMEMBER. Neither girl spoke. The bus stopped at the school gate. Students began getting off. Meera handed the photograph back. "Maybe you should tell a teacher." "No." "Why?" "Because I don't know who I can trust." Meera frowned. "You're actually scared." Aarohi looked toward the school entrance. "I've never been scared of my dreams before." --- Class 10-B was unusually noisy that morning. Aarohi walked to her seat. She was halfway across the room when she saw him. The boy from her dream. Reyansh. He was sitting in the last row. Same face. Same dark hair. Same silver key around his neck. Aarohi stopped. For a moment, the entire classroom seemed to disappear. Reyansh looked up. Their eyes met. His expression didn't show surprise. It showed recognition. He already knew she would be there. Meera grabbed Aarohi's arm. "What's wrong?" Aarohi couldn't speak. The teacher entered. "Good morning, everyone." The class replied. The teacher put her books on the desk. "Before we begin, we have a new student joining us." Aarohi stared at Reyansh. The teacher smiled. "Please introduce yourself." Reyansh stood. "My name is Reyansh Malhotra." Aarohi's stomach tightened. Malhotra. The name seemed to echo somewhere inside her memory. He continued. "I recently moved here." The teacher pointed toward the empty desk. "You can sit there." Reyansh walked past Aarohi. As he passed, he quietly whispered, "Don't ask me anything here." Aarohi turned. He was already sitting down. --- The first two classes passed slowly. Aarohi couldn't concentrate. Every few minutes, she looked at Reyansh. He didn't look back. When the lunch bell rang, Aarohi immediately left the classroom. Meera followed. "You're going to talk to him." "Yes." "Are you sure?" "No." They reached the library. Aarohi sat at one of the computers. She searched: Ravipur Station Almost nothing appeared. She searched again. Ravipur railway station abandoned Then: Ravipur Station missing student Her eyes stopped. A newspaper archive appeared. She clicked it. The headline read: STUDENT MISSING AFTER SCHOOL EVENT Date: 10 YEARS AGO. A photograph appeared below the headline. It was blurry. But the name was clear. REYANSH MALHOTRA, AGE 15. Aarohi stared at the screen. Her fingers became cold. Meera leaned closer. "That's him." Aarohi nodded. The article explained that Reyansh had disappeared after attending a school event. His belongings had been found near Ravipur Station. But his body had never been found. Aarohi scrolled. Then stopped. There was one final sentence: Authorities closed the case after several years due to lack of evidence. Meera whispered, "He's supposed to be missing." Aarohi stared at the screen. "Then who is sitting in our classroom?" Neither knew the answer. A voice came from behind them. "You shouldn't have searched for me." Aarohi turned. Reyansh stood there. Meera immediately stepped back. Aarohi stood. "You disappeared ten years ago." "I know." "You're fifteen." "I know." "That makes no sense." "I never said it would." "Who are you?" Reyansh looked at the computer. Then at the photograph in Aarohi's hand. "Where did you get that?" "My room." "Your mother?" "I don't know." He looked worried. "You showed her?" "No." "Good." "Why?" Reyansh leaned closer. "Because if she knows you found it, she'll know you remember." "Remember what?" He looked directly into her eyes. "Ravipur." Aarohi's voice became sharper. "I've never been there." Reyansh shook his head. "Yes, you have." "When?" "You were five." Aarohi stopped. Her mind suddenly filled with a strange image. A yellow dress. A railway platform. A silver key. A little boy laughing. Then the image disappeared. Aarohi held her head. "What was that?" Reyansh stepped forward. "You remembered." "What happened when I was five?" "I can't tell you here." "Why?" "Because someone is listening." Aarohi looked around. The library was almost empty. "Who?" Reyansh looked toward the door. "I don't know." Then he said something that frightened her more than anything else. "But they've been watching you for years." --- That evening, Aarohi went home with one question repeating in her mind. What happened when I was five? She waited until dinner. Then she asked her mother. "Who is Reyansh Malhotra?" Her mother's fork stopped. Aarohi watched carefully. "He is a new student in my class." Her mother looked confused. "I don't know anyone by that name." "You do." "No." "You knew him ten years ago." Her mother's face became pale. Aarohi continued. "He disappeared at Ravipur Station." Her mother stood so quickly that the chair moved backward. "Where did you hear that?" "From him." Her mother stared. "From who?" "Reyansh." Silence filled the room. Aarohi pulled out the photograph. Her mother looked at it. The moment she saw the picture, she stepped backward. "Where did you get this?" "My room." Her mother closed her eyes. For several seconds, she didn't speak. Then she whispered, "Give it to me." "No." "Aarohi." "Tell me the truth first." Her mother looked toward the window. "There are things about your childhood that you don't remember." "Why?" "Because you were too young." "That's not an answer." "It was necessary." "Necessary for what?" Her mother finally looked at her. "To keep you safe." Aarohi's anger disappeared. "Safe from whom?" Her mother didn't answer. "Mom." Still nothing. "Who is Reyansh?" Her mother whispered, "You must stay away from him." "Why?" "Because wherever that boy appears, something goes wrong." Aarohi shook her head. "That doesn't make sense." "It doesn't have to." "Did you know him?" Her mother's eyes filled with fear. "Go to your room." "Mom—" "Now." Aarohi stood. She had never seen her mother behave like this. She went upstairs. But she didn't sleep. --- At 11:00 p.m., Aarohi sat at her desk. The photograph lay in front of her. She examined it carefully. Three people stood at Ravipur Station. A young woman. A teenage boy. And a little girl wearing a yellow dress. Aarohi moved closer. Her heart began pounding. The woman was her mother. The boy was Reyansh. And the little girl… Aarohi. She was sure of it. She turned the photograph over. The message was still there. YOU MUST NEVER REMEMBER. But now she noticed something underneath the folded corner. She carefully opened it. There was another line. IF SHE REMEMBERS, THE CLOCK WILL START AGAIN. Aarohi stared at it. Then her room lights went out. She froze. The house became completely silent. Her phone buzzed. One new message. Unknown number. Don't look outside. Aarohi stared at the screen. Another message appeared. He's already there. She slowly looked toward her window. The curtains were closed. She didn't move. Another message arrived. Aarohi, whatever happens next, don't open the door. Then— Knock. Knock. Knock. Someone was standing outside her bedroom. Aarohi's heart raced. "Aarohi?" Her mother's voice. Again. "Open the door." Aarohi didn't move. Her phone buzzed. Another message. That's not your mother. Aarohi's breathing stopped. She stared at the door. The voice came again. "Aarohi, open the door." It sounded exactly like her mother. Exactly. Then the doorknob slowly moved. Aarohi stepped backward. The lock clicked. She grabbed her phone. Another message appeared. Look at the clock. Aarohi looked toward the digital clock on her desk. 11:11. She blinked. 11:12. The numbers changed. Then— A train whistle echoed outside. Impossible. There were no railway tracks anywhere near her house. The photograph on the desk began to tremble. Aarohi stared. The image had changed. The three people were still standing at Ravipur Station. But now Reyansh was looking directly at her. And the clock behind him showed: 11:12. Then something even stranger happened. Aarohi noticed another person in the photograph. Someone standing far behind them. Someone whose face had been hidden in the original image. Now the person was visible. A tall figure. Watching. Aarohi's hands shook. She brought the photograph closer. She recognized the clothes. The same clothes she had seen on the person standing outside her bedroom door. The door handle moved again. "Aarohi." This time the voice wasn't her mother's. It was Reyansh's. "Open the door." Aarohi whispered, "How did you get here?" "I didn't." "Then who is outside?" There was silence. Then Reyansh said, "Don't open it." Aarohi looked at the door. "You're outside?" "No." "Then where are you?" His voice became quieter. "At Ravipur." Aarohi's eyes widened. "What?" "I'm at the station." "But you're talking to me." "I know." "How?" "I don't know." Suddenly, the lights returned. The bedroom door was still locked. The hallway outside was empty. Aarohi opened the curtains. Nothing. No person. No shadow. Only the dark street below. She looked at her phone. The conversation with Reyansh was still open. She typed: How can you be at Ravipur and talk to me at the same time? The reply came immediately. Because Ravipur isn't a place. Aarohi frowned. Then what is it? Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. They appeared again. Finally, a message arrived. It's where the memory begins. Aarohi stared at the words. Her room suddenly felt colder. She looked at the photograph. The little girl in the yellow dress was no longer looking toward the camera. She was looking toward the tall figure. Aarohi whispered, "What happened that night?" The phone buzzed. Reyansh had sent one final message. Ask your mother why she erased your memory. Aarohi looked toward her bedroom door. Then toward the photograph. Then toward the clock. 11:13. The clock was moving. After fifteen years… Ravipur Station had started again. And somewhere in the darkness, a train was coming.