After a long time, Devendra finally loosened his grip on his mother.
She gently wiped his tears and spoke in a calm voice, the kind she used when she wanted him to believe her more than his fear.
"It's okay now," she said. "Go to your room and do your homework. I'll make dinner."
Devendra hesitated.
"You'll be here… right?" he asked.
"I'm not going anywhere," she replied, walking toward the kitchen.
The sound of utensils soon followed—real, familiar sounds. That helped him breathe again.
Devendra sat alone in his room, his notebook open in front of him.
Letters blurred on the page as he tried to focus.
Just homework, he told himself. I'm awake. Nothing can happen.
Then—
That feeling returned.
Not cold.
Not pain.
Pressure.
As if the air behind him had thickened.
His hands stiffened.
Something brushed past his hair—not pulling, not hurting—just enough to make his scalp prickle.
His heart dropped.
A voice spoke close to his ear.
"You're trying to ignore me again."
Devendra's breath hitched.
"You think I disappear when you don't look at me?" the voice continued, calm… almost curious.
"I'm not something you can ignore."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm awake," he whispered. "This isn't a dream."
The presence leaned closer.
"Then sleep quickly," the voice murmured.
"This time, I won't let you leave when you wake up."
His chest tightened.
"How will you live," the voice went on softly, "if I keep you there… for a long time?"
A quiet, echoing sound followed—not laughter, not crying—something in between.
Then—
Silence.
The room felt empty again.
Devendra jumped to his feet and ran.
"Mom!"
He burst into the kitchen, clutching her clothes, shaking.
His mother dropped what she was doing and knelt down immediately. "What happened? Tell me."
"She was here," he cried. "I was awake—awake—and she talked to me."
His mother pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly.
"That's enough," she said, voice trembling now. "That's enough."
She didn't send him back to his room.
Not anymore.
That night, as Devendra lay beside her, eyes wide open, he realized something terrifying:
She didn't need sleep anymore.
She could wait.