The classroom was already half full when Arman and his new friend rushed inside.
Room 312 looked older than the rest of the building. Wooden desks were arranged in neat rows, and tall windows lined the wall, letting in the grey light of the rainy afternoon.
Students talked loudly, some scrolling on their phones, others discussing assignments.
But Arman barely noticed any of it.
His mind was still on the girl.
Elina.
He sat down slowly while his friend dropped into the chair beside him.
"Man, you almost missed the first class," the boy said, breathing heavily. "I'm Rafi, by the way."
"Arman," he replied.
Rafi leaned back in his chair.
"So… who was that girl you were talking to?"
Arman looked at him, confused.
"The one near the window."
Rafi frowned.
"There was nobody there."
Arman sighed.
"Yes, there was. Long black hair. White dress. Blue sweater."
Rafi looked around the classroom as if expecting someone to match the description.
"Nope. Didn't see anyone like that."
Arman didn't answer.
Maybe Rafi had simply arrived a little late.
Maybe he just didn't notice her.
Still… something about it felt strange.
Before Arman could think further, the classroom door opened.
A middle-aged professor walked in carrying a stack of books. The room slowly quieted.
"Good afternoon, everyone," the professor said.
His voice was calm but firm.
"My name is Professor Haleem. I will be teaching you Modern Literature this semester."
Arman tried to focus on the lecture.
But every few minutes, his eyes drifted toward the window.
The rain was falling harder now.
Droplets streaked across the glass like silver threads.
And for a brief moment…
Arman thought he saw someone standing outside in the courtyard.
A girl.
White dress.
Black hair.
His heart skipped.
"Elina?"
He leaned closer to the window.
But the courtyard was empty.
Just rain.
And wind.
"Arman."
He snapped back to attention.
Professor Haleem was staring at him.
"Is there something interesting outside?" the professor asked.
The class chuckled softly.
Arman shook his head quickly.
"No, sir."
"Then perhaps you would like to answer a question."
Great.
"Tell me," the professor said, folding his arms. "What is the role of memory in literature?"
Arman hesitated.
His mind was still scattered.
"Um… memories shape characters," he said slowly. "They explain why people act the way they do."
Professor Haleem studied him for a moment.
Then he nodded slightly.
"Correct."
Arman relaxed in his seat.
The lecture continued.
But something strange kept bothering him.
A feeling he couldn't explain.
When the class finally ended, students quickly packed their bags.
Rafi stretched his arms.
"Lunch?"
"Sure," Arman replied absent-mindedly.
They walked out of the classroom and headed down the long hallway.
The rain outside had slowed to a gentle drizzle.
Most students were heading toward the cafeteria.
But Arman suddenly stopped.
Rafi looked back.
"What?"
Arman stared toward the far end of the corridor.
The same window.
The same place.
And standing beside it…
was Elina.
Just like before.
White dress.
Blue sweater.
Long dark hair resting on her shoulders.
She looked exactly the same.
Completely calm.
Completely still.
Arman felt a chill run down his spine.
"Rafi," he whispered.
"What?"
"Do you see her now?"
Rafi followed his gaze.
He looked directly at the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned back.
"See who?"
Arman's stomach tightened.
"She's right there."
Rafi stared again.
"Bro… there's nobody there."
Arman slowly walked toward the window.
His footsteps echoed softly through the corridor.
Elina watched him approach.
A small smile appeared on her face.
"You came back," she said.
Arman stopped in front of her.
"Where did you go earlier?"
"I was here."
"You disappeared."
"No," she said gently. "You just stopped seeing me."
Arman frowned.
"That doesn't make any sense."
Elina turned her eyes toward the rain outside.
"Most things don't."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally Arman asked the question that had been bothering him.
"Why can't anyone else see you?"
Elina didn't answer immediately.
Her expression changed.
The calmness in her eyes slowly faded.
Instead, there was something else.
Something sad.
Something distant.
"I don't know," she whispered.
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
Arman opened his mouth to speak again—
But at that exact moment, something strange happened.
A group of students walked straight past Elina.
Not around her.
Through her.
Like she wasn't even there.
Arman froze.
His heart began to race.
And for the first time since meeting her…
A terrifying thought entered his mind.
What if Elina wasn't real?