The Girl Who Remembered Tomorrow ✨

Chapter 1 — The Dream

The first time Aira dreamed about the railway station, she didn't know it was a warning.

She was standing alone on an empty platform.

No passengers.

No trains.

Not even the sound of the city.

Only rain.

It fell silently around her, turning the railway tracks into long silver lines beneath the pale moonlight.

Aira looked around.

“Hello?”

Her voice disappeared into the darkness.

Then she heard footsteps.

Slow.

Steady.

Coming closer.

A boy stepped out from beneath the old station roof.

She had never seen him before.

He looked about her age, wearing a dark jacket that was soaked from the rain. He stopped a few steps away and stared at her as if he had been waiting for her.

Aira frowned.

“Do I know you?”

The boy didn't answer.

Instead, he looked past her toward the railway tracks.

Then he said quietly,

“Don't come here.”

Aira's heart skipped.

“What?”

“Whatever happens…” His voice became almost a whisper. “Don't come here.”

A loud train horn suddenly echoed through the station.

Aira turned around.

There was no train.

She looked back at the boy.

He was gone.

“Wait!”

She ran toward the place where he had been standing.

Nothing.

Only an old photograph lay on the wet platform.

Aira picked it up.

It showed the same railway station.

The same platform.

The same boy.

And standing beside him—

was Aira.

Her breath caught.

She turned the photograph over.

There was a date written on the back.

September 17, 2046.

Aira stared at it.

Then the station lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

The boy's voice whispered from somewhere behind her.

“You weren't supposed to remember.”

Aira woke up.

She sat upright in bed, breathing quickly.

Morning sunlight filled her room.

For a few seconds, she couldn't remember where she was.

Then she laughed nervously.

“It was just a dream.”

She reached for her phone.

September 17, 2026.

Exactly twenty years before the date in the photograph.

Aira froze.

Her smile disappeared.

Because on her desk, beside the books she had left there the night before…

was a wet, old photograph.

The same photograph from her dream.

And on the back were five words:

“You have twenty years left.”