Chapter 1: The Day She Knew My Name
The first time I saw her, she was standing under the old banyan tree near the college gate.
The wind moved gently through her hair, sunlight slipping through the leaves and falling across her face. For a brief, impossible second, everything around me slowed down. The sound of traffic faded. The chatter of students blurred into silence.
It felt like time itself had paused.
I don't believe in destiny.
I believe in routines. In formulas. In predictable outcomes.
My name is Arjun Sen.
Second-year physics student.
I like numbers because numbers don't lie. They don't hide secrets.
People do.
She was new. That much was obvious. No one stands that confidently on the first day unless they're fearless—or pretending to be.
I told myself not to stare.
But then she looked at me.
Not casually. Not by accident.
Directly.
And then she said—
"Arjun Sen."
My steps froze.
There are moments when your brain refuses to process what just happened. This was one of them.
I was sure I had never seen her before.
"How do you know my name?" I asked, trying to sound calm.
She tilted her head slightly, as if amused by my confusion.
"I know a lot of things," she said softly.
Her voice wasn't dramatic. It wasn't playful.
It was certain.
I felt a strange chill crawl up my spine.
"Like what?" I asked.
She glanced toward the main building. Her expression shifted—serious now.
"Like you shouldn't go to the physics lab today."
I blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't go," she repeated. "Something bad will happen."
For a second, I thought she was joking. Some weird college prank. Maybe my friends had planned something.
But she didn't look like someone joking.
"Is this a threat?" I said.
"No."
"Then what is it?"
"A warning."
The word hung in the air between us.
Before I could say anything else, a group of students called out to her.
"Aisha! Orientation is starting!"
Aisha.
So that was her name.
She stepped back slowly, but her eyes remained locked on mine.
"Trust me, Arjun," she said quietly. "Some futures are better avoided."
And then she walked away.
The rest of the morning felt strange.
I tried to focus during lectures, but her words replayed in my head.
Don't go to the physics lab.
It was ridiculous.
Maybe she saw the class schedule posted online. Maybe she guessed my department. Maybe she was just dramatic.
Yes. That had to be it.
By lunch break, I had convinced myself she was just another mysterious girl trying to look interesting.
At 2:05 PM, my lab partner Rahul dragged me toward the physics building.
"Bro, hurry up. Professor Mehra is already in a bad mood."
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then I shook my head.
This was stupid.
I wasn't going to skip lab because some girl with dramatic eyes told me not to.
At 2:17 PM, it happened.
The experiment was simple—measuring voltage fluctuations. I had done it dozens of times before.
But something felt off.
The equipment sparked.
Rahul stepped back suddenly.
And then—
An explosion.
Not massive. Not cinematic.
But loud enough to shake the room.
Glass shattered. A sharp ringing filled my ears. The lights flickered violently before going out.
Smoke spread quickly. Someone screamed.
I fell backward, hitting the floor.
For a few seconds, everything was chaos.
And in that chaos, one thought screamed louder than anything else—
She knew.
Outside the lab, students gathered in panic. Some were coughing. Some were crying. Faculty members rushed in.
I stood near the corridor wall, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs.
I wasn't injured. Just shaken.
Very shaken.
Across the corridor—
She was there.
Aisha.
Watching me.
Not shocked.
Not surprised.
Just… waiting.
As if this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.
I walked toward her slowly.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
"How?" I demanded, my voice low but trembling.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she looked at my hands.
"You didn't get hurt," she said softly.
"That's not the point!" I snapped.
Her eyes met mine again.
For the first time, I saw something there.
Not confidence.
Fear.
"I told you not to go," she whispered.
"You knew this would happen," I said.
It wasn't a question.
It was a realization.
She hesitated.
"Not exactly," she replied.
"What does that mean?"
"It means…" she paused, searching for words, "…some things are fixed. And some things can change."
I stared at her.
"You're not making any sense."
She gave a faint smile.
"You'll understand soon."
"I don't want 'soon.' I want answers."
She stepped closer.
Close enough that I could hear her breathing.
"Tell me something, Arjun," she said quietly. "Have you ever felt like you've seen something before it actually happened?"
My heart skipped.
Because the answer was yes.
Sometimes, in dreams, I saw flashes of moments I couldn't explain.
Small things.
A falling glass.
A conversation.
A sound.
And then later—they happened.
I had always ignored it.
Coincidence.
Nothing more.
But now—
Now I wasn't so sure.
"How do you know that?" I asked slowly.
She looked away for the first time.
"Because," she said softly, "you're not the only one."
The hallway lights flickered again.
A strange, unsettling silence fell between us.
And for the first time in my ordinary life, I felt something terrifying and beautiful at the same time—
My life was no longer predictable.
And neither was she.