Yesterday, 11:12 PM
Monday Morning, Flat 205 (Silence, Curiosity, and Tension)
Ravi woke up with a start, the sharp rays of morning sunlight piercing through the half-open blinds. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, before glancing at the clock: 8:05 AM.
He groaned softly, the weight of another day pressing down on him. His eyes were heavy, the remnants of last night’s dreams still clinging to him, but he forced himself to sit up. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake off the fog in his head.
The flat was still quiet, too quiet. The air felt thicker than usual, as if the weight of the silence had increased overnight. Ravi reached for his phone on the nightstand, a habit by now, to check for messages, calls, anything to break the stillness of the morning.
Nothing.
He scrolled through the screen, expecting to see at least a couple of messages from Neetu or Sirisha, they always checked in after their night out, especially if they had gone to the movie together.
But today, there was no trace of them. No playful goodnight texts, no witty emojis. It was as if they ignoring him.
Ravi frowned, a twinge of confusion tightening in his chest. It wasn’t like them. He couldn’t remember the last time a day had passed without at least a short text from Neetu or Sirisha, something light-hearted or teasing. Last night, he had heard nothing. This morning, still nothing. Silence.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, the hum of the city outside the window only adding to the unsettling quiet inside the flat. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
Without overthinking it, he dialed Neetu’s number, hoping to hear her voice, to get some reassurance that everything was fine, that maybe they’d just been busy. His phone beeped a few times. Then the tone changed.
“We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is switched off or out of network coverage.”
He stared at the screen not understand what to think. What was going on? This wasn’t like her. He dialed again, a little more impatient this time. Same result. Her phone was off.
A small flicker of worry crept up his spine.
He tried Sirisha’s number next, his thumb moving quickly across the screen, dialling the number as though it might somehow fix the strange, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him.
Ravi woke up with a start, the sharp rays of morning sunlight piercing through the half-open blinds. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, before glancing at the clock: 8:05 AM.
He groaned softly, the weight of another day pressing down on him. His eyes were heavy, the remnants of last night’s dreams still clinging to him, but he forced himself to sit up. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake off the fog in his head.
The flat was still quiet, too quiet. The air felt thicker than usual, as if the weight of the silence had increased overnight. Ravi reached for his phone on the nightstand, a habit by now, to check for messages, calls, anything to break the stillness of the morning.
Nothing.
He scrolled through the screen, expecting to see at least a couple of messages from Neetu or Sirisha, they always checked in after their night out, especially if they had gone to the movie together.
But today, there was no trace of them. No playful goodnight texts, no witty emojis. It was as if they ignoring him.
Ravi frowned, a twinge of confusion tightening in his chest. It wasn’t like them. He couldn’t remember the last time a day had passed without at least a short text from Neetu or Sirisha, something light-hearted or teasing. Last night, he had heard nothing. This morning, still nothing. Silence.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, the hum of the city outside the window only adding to the unsettling quiet inside the flat. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
Without overthinking it, he dialed Neetu’s number, hoping to hear her voice, to get some reassurance that everything was fine, that maybe they’d just been busy. His phone beeped a few times. Then the tone changed.
“We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is switched off or out of network coverage.”
He stared at the screen not understand what to think. What was going on? This wasn’t like her. He dialed again, a little more impatient this time. Same result. Her phone was off.
A small flicker of worry crept up his spine.
He tried Sirisha’s number next, his thumb moving quickly across the screen, dialling the number as though it might somehow fix the strange, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him.
.
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