Last Seen

Last Seen She willed herself not to check her phone. 1. Again. 2. The device lay face down on her desk, silent and innocent-looking, yet it possessed an almost supernatural ability to command her attention. Every few minutes, her eyes drifted toward it. 3. Don't do it. 4. She lasted thirty-two seconds. 5. Flipping it over, she opened WhatsApp and immediately regretted it. 6. Still no message from Aarav. 7. The familiar ache settled in her chest. 8. Three days. 9. Three whole days since she had sent him that message. 10. Not a casual text. Not a meme. Not a random question. 11. A confession. 12. The kind that took months to gather the courage to write. 13. The kind that could alter friendships forever. 14. The kind that deserved a reply. 15. Even a rejection. 16. Anything. 17. But there had been nothing. 18. No response. 19. No explanation. 20. Just silence. 21. Worse than silence, actually. 22. Because silence would have meant he wasn't online. 23. Instead, she had watched him come and go. 24. "Last seen today at 9:14." 25. "Online." 26. "Last seen five minutes ago." 27. Every appearance felt like a tiny stab. 28. He was alive. 29. He was using his phone. 30. He was talking to other people. 31. Just not to her. 32. Meera dropped her head into her hands. 33. This was ridiculous. 34. She was twenty-six years old, not sixteen. 35. Yet she felt exactly like an insecure teenager waiting for a crush to text back. 36. The worst part was that she knew better. 37. She knew that people got busy. 38. She knew that not every delay was personal. 39. She knew that catastrophizing never helped. 40. But knowing and feeling were different things. 41. And right now, every passing hour felt like confirmation of the answer she feared. 42. He didn't feel the same way. 43. And he didn't know how to tell her. 44. Her phone vibrated. 45. The sound nearly launched her out of her chair. 46. Heart pounding, she grabbed it. 47. A notification. 48. A message. 49. From Aarav. 50. For a second, the world stopped. 51. Her hands trembled. 52. She stared at his name on the screen. 53. Finally. 54. Finally. 55. Three days of anxiety. 56. Three days of overthinking. 57. Three days of imagining every possible outcome. 58. And now the answer was here. 59. Taking a shaky breath, she opened the chat. 60. The message was short. 61. Very short. 62. Only eight words. 63. She read them once. 64. Then again. 65. Then a third time. 66. Her stomach dropped. 67. "I know what happens after we die." 68. Meera blinked. 69. What? 70. She stared at the screen. 71. The message remained unchanged. 72. "I know what happens after we die." 73. That was it. 74. No greeting. 75. No mention of her confession. 76. No explanation. 77. Nothing. 78. Just that. 79. A chill crawled up her spine. 80. What kind of response was that? 81. Was he joking? 82. Having some sort of breakdown? 83. Drunk? 84. She typed immediately. 85. "What?" 86. The three dots appeared. 87. Disappeared. 88. Appeared again. 89. Then another message arrived. 90. "Can you come to my apartment?" 91. Her pulse quickened. 92. "Aarav, are you okay?" 93. A minute passed. 94. Then another. 95. Finally: 96. "Please come." 97. That's all he wrote. 98. Meera grabbed her keys. 99. ________________________________________ 100. Twenty minutes later, she stood outside Aarav's apartment building. 101. Rain drizzled from a dark evening sky. 102. The streetlights cast blurry halos across wet pavement. 103. Everything felt strangely unreal. 104. She climbed the stairs two at a time. 105. When she reached his door, she knocked. 106. No answer. 107. She knocked again. 108. The door slowly swung inward. 109. Unlocked. 110. A knot formed in her stomach. 111. "Aarav?" 112. Silence. 113. She stepped inside. 114. The apartment was dimly lit. 115. Only a lamp glowed in the living room. 116. Everything appeared normal. 117. Books. 118. Coffee mugs. 119. A jacket draped over a chair. 120. Yet something felt wrong. 121. Very wrong. 122. Then she saw him. 123. He sat at the dining table. 124. Motionless. 125. Staring straight ahead. 126. "Aarav?" 127. He looked up. 128. And she nearly gasped. 129. His face was pale. 130. Not sick pale. 131. Ghost pale. 132. As though he hadn't slept in days. 133. His eyes looked hollow. 134. Exhausted. 135. Terrified. 136. Relieved. 137. All at once. 138. "You came." 139. "Of course I came. What's going on?" 140. For several seconds, he simply stared at her. 141. Then he laughed. 142. A strange laugh. 143. Humorless. 144. Broken. 145. "I wasn't sure anyone would believe me." 146. "Aarav, you're scaring me." 147. "Good." 148. "What?" 149. "Because I'm scared too." 150. He gestured toward the chair opposite him. 151. "Sit." 152. Reluctantly, she sat. 153. Rain tapped softly against the windows. 154. The apartment felt unnaturally quiet. 155. Then Aarav leaned forward. 156. Three days ago, he said, he had died. 157. Meera almost interrupted. 158. Almost laughed. 159. But something in his expression stopped her. 160. He wasn't joking. 161. Not even slightly. 162. "I was driving home." 163. His voice shook. 164. "Near the highway." 165. "A truck crossed the divider." 166. Her breath caught. 167. "There was an accident." 168. He swallowed. 169. "I remember the impact." 170. The room seemed colder. 171. "I remember the pain." 172. His fingers trembled. 173. "And then..." 174. He looked directly into her eyes. 175. "Nothing." 176. Silence stretched between them. 177. "What do you mean?" 178. "I mean I died." 179. Meera stared. 180. "Aarav—" 181. "Listen." 182. His voice sharpened. 183. "Please." 184. She fell silent. 185. "I wasn't unconscious." 186. He continued. 187. "I wasn't dreaming." 188. "I know the difference." 189. "What happened next wasn't a hallucination." 190. He took a deep breath. 191. "There was darkness." 192. "Then light." 193. Every horror movie cliché flashed through Meera's mind. 194. Yet his fear felt genuine. 195. Raw. 196. "There was someone there." 197. Her skin prickled. 198. "Who?" 199. "I don't know." 200. "Was it a person?" 201. "No." 202. "An angel?" 203. "No." 204. "What then?" 205. His answer came immediately. 206. "Everything." 207. Meera frowned. 208. "What does that mean?" 209. He stared at the floor. 210. "It wasn't a person." 211. "It wasn't a voice." 212. "It wasn't a creature." 213. "It felt like standing in front of every mind that ever existed." 214. The room had become so quiet that she could hear her own heartbeat. 215. "It knew everything." 216. He continued. 217. "Every moment." 218. "Every memory." 219. "Every choice." 220. His eyes glistened. 221. "And it showed me." 222. "What?" 223. "Us." 224. Meera froze. 225. "Us?" 226. He nodded. 227. "You." 228. "Me." 229. "Our lives." 230. "Every possibility." 231. The air left her lungs. 232. "Aarav..." 233. He laughed again. 234. The same broken laugh. 235. "You sent your confession an hour before the accident." 236. She felt heat rise to her face. 237. "I know." 238. "I saw it afterward." 239. "What are you talking about?" 240. He looked at her. 241. "While I was dead." 242. The words sounded absurd. 243. Impossible. 244. Yet he spoke them with unwavering certainty. 245. "It showed me every path." 246. He whispered. 247. "The one where I ignored you." 248. "The one where I rejected you." 249. "The one where we stayed friends." 250. "The one where we fell in love." 251. A tear slid down his cheek. 252. "And the one where I lost you." 253. Something shifted inside Meera. 254. Not belief. 255. Not yet. 256. But concern. 257. Whatever was happening, Aarav genuinely believed it. 258. "And then?" 259. She asked softly. 260. His face darkened. 261. "And then I came back." 262. The room fell silent. 263. "What do you mean?" 264. "The paramedics revived me." 265. He laughed bitterly. 266. "I woke up in a hospital." 267. "Everyone called it a miracle." 268. "But I knew." 269. "Knew what?" 270. His gaze met hers. 271. "Something came back with me." 272. The words settled heavily between them. 273. Meera suddenly wished she hadn't come alone. 274. "Aarav..." 275. Before she could continue, the lights flickered. 276. Once. 277. Twice. 278. Then steadied. 279. Both of them looked upward. 280. A moment later, his phone vibrated. 281. He grabbed it. 282. His expression changed instantly. 283. Pure terror. 284. "What?" 285. She asked. 286. He slowly turned the screen toward her. 287. The message had no sender. 288. No number. 289. No name. 290. Only six words. 291. YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO RETURN. 292. Meera's blood ran cold. 293. "That's not funny." 294. "I know." 295. "Who sent it?" 296. "I don't know." 297. He showed her. 298. No contact information existed. 299. Just the message. 300. Nothing else. 301. Her mouth went dry. 302. Then her own phone vibrated. 303. For a brief second she felt relief. 304. Until she looked. 305. A message. 306. Unknown sender. 307. Identical text. 308. YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO RETURN. 309. The room seemed to tilt. 310. Neither spoke. 311. The silence stretched. 312. Then a loud crash erupted from the kitchen. 313. Both jumped. 314. A glass had shattered. 315. No one was there. 316. Aarav stood abruptly. 317. "It's here." 318. "What?" 319. "I told you." 320. His voice cracked. 321. "It followed me." 322. Every rational thought in Meera's brain screamed for an explanation. 323. A prank. 324. Stress. 325. Coincidence. 326. Anything. 327. Yet fear had already rooted itself inside her. 328. Another crash. 329. This time from the hallway. 330. Then footsteps. 331. Slow. 332. Heavy. 333. Approaching. 334. Meera's heart hammered. 335. Aarav backed away. 336. The footsteps continued. 337. One step. 338. Another. 339. Another. 340. Closer. 341. Closer. 342. Then stopped. 343. The apartment became silent. 344. Utterly silent. 345. And a voice spoke. 346. Not from the hallway. 347. Not from a person. 348. From everywhere. 349. "HE SAW." 350. The sound vibrated through walls. 351. Through furniture. 352. Through bone. 353. Meera covered her ears. 354. Aarav looked frozen. 355. The voice spoke again. 356. "HE REMEMBERS." 357. The lights exploded. 358. Darkness swallowed the apartment. 359. Meera screamed. 360. Something moved. 361. Fast. 362. A shadow. 363. A shape. 364. Impossible to describe. 365. The darkness itself seemed alive. 366. Then Aarav shouted. 367. "NO!" 368. A blinding flash filled the room. 369. For a moment everything vanished. 370. The apartment. 371. The darkness. 372. The fear. 373. Everything. 374. ________________________________________ 375. Meera opened her eyes. 376. Sunlight streamed through a hospital window. 377. Machines beeped nearby. 378. Confused, she sat upright. 379. A nurse rushed into the room. 380. "Oh thank goodness." 381. "What happened?" 382. The nurse blinked. 383. "You don't remember?" 384. Meera stared. 385. Remember what? 386. Then she noticed the bandage on her arm. 387. The IV. 388. The hospital room. 389. Confusion deepened. 390. "Where's Aarav?" 391. The nurse hesitated. 392. Something about that hesitation felt wrong. 393. Very wrong. 394. "Who?" 395. "Aarav." 396. "My friend." 397. The nurse frowned. 398. "I'm sorry." 399. "We don't have anyone by that name here." 400. Panic surged. 401. "No, he was with me." 402. The nurse exchanged a strange glance with another staff member. 403. "Miss, you've been unconscious for three days." 404. Three days. 405. The words echoed in her mind. 406. Three days. 407. The same amount of time she'd waited for his reply. 408. "What happened?" 409. The nurse spoke gently. 410. "You were found alone in your apartment." 411. "Collapsed." 412. "No one else was there." 413. Meera stared. 414. Alone? 415. No. 416. That wasn't possible. 417. She remembered. 418. The messages. 419. The apartment. 420. The voice. 421. Aarav. 422. Didn't she? 423. The nurse handed her phone over. 424. "You had this with you." 425. Shaking, Meera unlocked it. 426. Immediately she opened WhatsApp. 427. Her conversation with Aarav appeared. 428. But something was wrong. 429. There were no messages from him. 430. None. 431. Only her confession. 432. Sent three days ago. 433. Unread. 434. She scrolled frantically. 435. Nothing. 436. No strange messages. 437. No replies. 438. No conversation. 439. Just silence. 440. Her chest tightened. 441. "What is this?" 442. The nurse looked concerned. 443. "Miss?" 444. "Aarav." 445. She whispered. 446. "Where is he?" 447. No answer came. 448. Later that afternoon, after insisting repeatedly, she searched online. 449. The article appeared instantly. 450. A fatal highway collision. 451. Three days earlier. 452. One victim. 453. Aarav Sharma. 454. Pronounced dead at the scene. 455. No survivors. 456. Meera stared at the screen. 457. Unable to breathe. 458. Unable to think. 459. The article blurred through tears. 460. Dead. 461. Three days ago. 462. Exactly when she had sent the confession. 463. Exactly when she had begun waiting. 464. Her hands shook violently. 465. Then her phone vibrated. 466. A message notification. 467. Her heart stopped. 468. Slowly. 469. Very slowly. 470. She opened it. 471. Unknown sender. 472. One message. 473. Only six words. 474. Thank you for coming that night. 475. And beneath it. 476. A final line. 477. I loved you too. 478. The sender disappeared before her eyes. 479. The chat vanished. 480. Leaving no trace behind. 481. Outside the hospital window, sunlight broke through the clouds. 482. And for the first time in three days, Meera smiled through her tears.