Dinner was quiet.
Devendra sat across from his mother at the table, chewing slowly. The spoon clinked softly against the plate. The fridge hummed in the background. Everything felt… normal.
Too normal.
Then the air changed.
The warmth drained from the room all at once, like someone had opened a giant freezer door. Devendra's breath turned shallow. His fingers went numb around the spoon.
"Mom…?" he whispered.
She didn't respond.
She didn't move.
His mother sat frozen in place, eyes open, spoon halfway to her mouth—as if time itself had stopped for her.
The fridge went silent.
The lights dimmed.
From the far corner of the room, something moved.
Hair.
Long strands slid across the floor, slow and deliberate, like they were alive. They rose upward, twisting, gathering—reaching.
Devendra tried to scream.
Nothing came out.
The hair wrapped around his arms, his chest—not tight, not crushing—just firm enough to remind him he had no control. His feet lifted off the floor.
The room spun.
He hovered in the air, heart hammering so loudly it hurt.
Then she appeared.
Not fully.
Never fully.
A shape formed in front of him—familiar, wrong, smiling without warmth.
"Eat quickly," she said, her voice light, almost playful.
"And go to sleep."
Her presence pressed into his thoughts, heavy and suffocating.
"Watch carefully," she continued softly.
"This world keeps moving… even when you don't."
Devendra shook, tears slipping down his face.
"I don't want to," he whispered.
She leaned closer.
"When you close your eyes," she murmured,
"you'll understand."
The pressure vanished.
Sound rushed back all at once.
The fridge hummed.
The light brightened.
The spoon clattered.
Devendra dropped back into his chair, gasping.
Across from him, his mother blinked and continued eating—unaware.
As if nothing had happened.
"Mom…" he said slowly.
"Yes?" she replied, calm.
"If I told you," he asked, voice shaking,
"that you just froze… and something lifted me into the air…"
Her hand stopped.
The spoon slipped from her fingers and hit the plate.
She stared at him.
"If that happened," she said carefully,
"why don't I remember anything?"
Devendra swallowed.
"It felt like…" he whispered,
"our bodies stayed here. But I didn't."
He looked down at his hands.
"Like something pulled me out… and put me back."
His mother didn't answer right away. She stood up and pulled him into a tight embrace.
That night, Devendra lay in bed, eyes wide open.
Sleep came anyway.
The village returned.
Red moon.
Dark houses.
The old home waited.
And this time…
the door was already open.