Our Smart and Cute Neighbor
292 Words
Our neighborhood was like a quiet map, dotted with secrets.
Right next to Tara’s house lived cute Mr. Vikram, a retired librarian who hadn’t stepped outside in years.
But his windows glowed blue every night. One evening, curiosity got the best of us.
We watched from Tara’s rooftop as an owl—not one I had drawn—circled his home. It was too large, too silent. Its eyes glowed like stars.
“I don’t think he’s normal,” Myra whispered.
“None of us are,” Arjun replied.
“But he feels... smarter celeb. Like he knows what we are,” I added.
That week, I dreamt of him. He stood at the edge of my bed, holding a book bound in vines.
“Inkheart,” he said. “You are inkheart.”
I woke up sweating. 🙄 I didn’t tell anyone. Not yet.
Meanwhile, school grew more intense. We weren’t the only ones changing.
Riya Sharma, the girl who always read in the corner of the library, suddenly started speaking in tongues when she touched a certain history book.
Kunal Mehta, our class monitor, had begun to draw strange runes on the chalkboard—runes that glowed faintly and erased themselves before anyone else saw.
The veil was thinning.
One afternoon, we gathered at the treehouse.
Arjun was adjusting the gears on The Disappearer, Tara was sketching herbs with glowing petals, and Myra was humming something that made the birds still.
I pulled out The Origin and sketched something new—a mirror.
The moment the last line connected, the mirror rose from the paper and hovered in the air.
And inside it? ❌ We didn’t see our reflections.
We saw our future selves—older, wiser... and terrified. 😰
- Writer
