The rain had just begun when Arman Rahman stepped through the old iron gates of Westbridge College.
Grey clouds hung low in the sky, and the wind carried the smell of wet leaves and distant thunder. Students rushed across the campus lawn, some laughing, some complaining about the sudden rain, while others hurried to their classes with backpacks over their heads.
But Arman stood still for a moment.
This was his first day.
A new college.
A new city.
A new life.
He adjusted the strap of his bag and walked slowly across the stone path leading to the main building. The campus was larger than he had imagined—ancient brick walls covered in ivy, tall oak trees swaying gently in the wind, and a massive clock tower standing at the center like a silent guardian.
"First day… don't mess it up," he murmured to himself.
Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was chaotic. Students crowded around notice boards, searching for their classroom numbers. Voices echoed through the hallway.
"Hey, did you find Room 204?"
"No idea, man. This place is like a maze."
Arman squeezed through the crowd and finally found the notice board. His eyes scanned the list of names.
Rahman, Arman — Literature Department — Room 312
"Third floor," he sighed.
Just as he turned to head for the staircase, something strange happened.
The noise around him seemed to fade.
Not completely—just slightly, as if the world had suddenly been wrapped in a thin layer of silence.
Arman frowned.
That was when he saw her.
She stood near the far end of the hallway, beside a tall window where raindrops slid slowly down the glass.
A girl.
She wore a simple white dress and a dark blue sweater. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders like a curtain of midnight. The pale light from outside framed her figure, making her look almost… unreal.
For a moment, Arman thought she might be waiting for someone.
But she wasn't moving.
She was just standing there, looking out at the rain.
Something about her felt different.
Not just beautiful.
Strange.
As if she didn't quite belong in the busy, noisy hallway.
Students walked past her constantly, yet none of them seemed to notice her.
Arman blinked.
That's odd.
He hesitated for a second before walking toward her.
Each step felt oddly quiet, like the hallway had grown softer around them.
When he stopped beside her, he cleared his throat.
"Um… excuse me?"
The girl slowly turned her head.
Her eyes met his.
They were dark. Deep. And strangely calm.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she smiled slightly.
"Are you talking to me?"
Her voice was soft—almost like a whisper carried by the rain.
Arman rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Yeah… I mean… sorry if I bothered you. I just wanted to ask where Room 312 is."
The girl tilted her head slightly, thinking.
"Third floor," she said. "End of the corridor. The last classroom on the left."
Arman blinked.
"That was… very specific."
"I've been here for a while," she replied.
He nodded slowly.
"First day?"
"Yes," she said.
"Mine too," Arman replied with a small laugh. "Guess we're both lost then."
The girl looked back at the rain.
"I'm not lost."
Something about the way she said it made Arman pause.
It wasn't arrogant.
It was… certain.
Like she truly knew exactly where she was.
Trying to shake off the strange feeling, Arman smiled.
"I'm Arman, by the way."
For a moment, the girl didn't answer.
Then she turned back to him.
"Elina."
Arman repeated the name quietly.
"Elina… that's a nice name."
She gave a faint smile.
Outside, the rain grew heavier, tapping against the windows like distant footsteps.
Students continued rushing past them.
Yet strangely, none of them looked at the girl.
Not once.
Arman didn't notice that.
Not yet.
Instead, he said, "Well… since we're both new here, maybe we could—"
Before he could finish, a loud voice interrupted him.
"Arman! Hey!"
Arman turned around.
A tall boy with messy hair waved at him from the staircase.
"Class is starting, man! You coming or what?"
Arman looked back toward Elina.
But something about her expression had changed.
She looked… distant.
Almost sad.
"Go," she said softly.
"You don't want to come?" Arman asked.
Elina shook her head.
"I'll see you again."
There was something strange about the way she said it.
Not maybe.
Not hopefully.
But certainly.
"I'll see you again."
Arman smiled and nodded.
"Alright. See you later then."
He hurried toward the staircase.
When he reached his friend, the boy glanced behind him.
"Who were you talking to?"
Arman frowned.
"The girl near the window."
His friend looked confused.
"What girl?"
Arman turned around.
The hallway was still crowded.
Students everywhere.
But the window was empty.
The girl in the white dress was gone.
Completely.
As if she had never been there at all.
And somewhere far outside, thunder rolled across the sky.