The Oblivion

Dum Dum, Kolkata didn’t usually feel this quiet.

From the outside, Adwika’s apartment looked like any other in the residency—balconies cluttered with plants, distant sounds of traffic, the occasional pressure cooker whistle from somewhere below. Normal. Predictable.

Inside, something felt… off.

Adwika sat on the edge of her bed, her laptop still open in front of her. The screen glowed against her face, reflecting in her eyes that hadn’t blinked for longer than necessary.

She read the last line again.

“You can’t say no to this invitation. Because I know you will come. And if not you… your soul will crave to.

I’ll be waiting.

— Lara”

A soft knock broke the silence.

“Adwika? We’re here.”

She snapped the laptop shut for a second, exhaled slowly, then opened it again.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open and Yuvika entered first, as usual—fast, expressive, already talking.

“Okay first of all, why did you sound so serious on call? You literally said ‘just come, don’t ask anything’—that is NOT normal behavior.”

Roshan followed, quieter, eyes immediately landing on Adwika.

“You okay?”

Avinesh came last. He didn’t say anything. He just looked around the room once, then at Adwika, then at the laptop.

Observing.

Always observing.

Adwika gestured toward the bed. “Sit. All of you.”

Yuvika frowned. “You’re scaring me.”

“Good,” Avinesh muttered under his breath, pulling a chair and sitting slightly apart.

Roshan leaned against the wall instead of sitting. “What happened?”

Adwika opened the laptop again, turning it toward them.

“I got an email.”

Yuvika groaned immediately. “That’s it? I thought someone died—”

“From Lara.”

Silence.

Not the normal kind. The kind that feels like something just shifted.

Yuvika blinked. “Wait… what?”

Roshan straightened slightly. “Lara… from school?”

Avinesh didn’t react—but his eyes sharpened.

Adwika nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“No,” Yuvika shook her head instantly. “No way. That’s not funny, Adwika.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Show me.”

Adwika turned the screen fully toward them and began reading aloud, her voice steady—but softer than usual.

“She says… she wants us to come to Daringbadi. Odisha.”

“Daringbadi?” Roshan frowned. “Isn’t that like… some remote hill place?”

“Yeah,” Avinesh said calmly. “Often called the ‘Kashmir of Odisha.’ Isolated. Less crowded.”

Yuvika looked between them. “Why do you both know that so casually?”

No one answered.

Adwika continued reading.

“She didn’t send it to all of us. Just me.”

That made Roshan look at her again. This time, longer.

“Only you?”

Adwika nodded.

“Why?” Yuvika asked immediately.

“That’s the problem,” Adwika said quietly. “She doesn’t say.”

A pause.

Then she read the last lines.

“You can’t say no to this invitation. Because I know you will come. And if not you… your soul will crave to.”

Yuvika let out a nervous laugh. “Okay that is—nope. No. I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.”

Roshan frowned. “That sounds… weirdly threatening.”

“It doesn’t sound like a threat,” Avinesh said.

All three looked at him.

“It sounds like certainty.”

Adwika’s fingers tightened slightly on the laptop.

Yuvika shook her head. “Why would she even contact us? We weren’t even close to her.”

“We weren’t anything to her,” Roshan corrected.

“That’s exactly what’s strange,” Adwika said.

Her gaze drifted slightly, unfocused for a second.

“She never talked to anyone… remember?”

Yuvika immediately nodded. “God, yes. She was so creepy. Always sitting alone, writing in those weird notebooks.”

Roshan added, “And the way she used to look at people…”

“Like she knew something,” Adwika finished softly.

A small silence followed that.

Avinesh leaned back slightly. “She left in second year.”

“Yeah,” Yuvika said. “Mid-sem. Just disappeared.”

“Shifted to Odisha,” Roshan recalled. “That’s what people said.”

“People also said her parents were abusive,” Yuvika added. “But no one actually saw them.”

“People say a lot of things,” Avinesh said flatly.

Adwika looked at the email again.

“Seven years,” she murmured. “We didn’t even think about her… and now this.”

Yuvika crossed her arms. “Okay but why us? Out of everyone?”

No one had an answer.

Roshan finally pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to Adwika.

“Forget why,” he said quietly. “The real question is—are we actually considering going?”

Adwika didn’t reply immediately.

Her eyes were still on the screen.

“Adwika,” Yuvika said quickly, “we are NOT going to some random remote place because a creepy ex-classmate sent you a horror-movie email.”

“It’s not random,” Adwika said.

All three looked at her.

She hesitated for a second, then shook her head slightly.

“I don’t know why but… it doesn’t feel random.”

Roshan studied her face carefully. “What does it feel like then?”

Adwika finally looked up.

“Like… this was going to happen anyway.”

That made Yuvika visibly uncomfortable. “Nope. I officially hate this conversation.”

Avinesh’s lips curved slightly—not a smile, just interest.

“Do you want to go?” he asked Adwika directly.

The room stilled again.

Adwika didn’t answer immediately.

Because the truth was—

She didn’t know why…

But the thought of not going felt… wrong.

Like leaving something unfinished.

Like ignoring a memory she hadn’t lived yet.

“I—” she started, then stopped.

Roshan stepped in gently. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

His voice softened, just a little.

“We’re here. Whatever this is… we’ll figure it out.”

Yuvika looked at him, then at Adwika, then sighed dramatically.

“If you say you’re going,” she pointed at Adwika, “I’m coming too. Because there is NO way I’m letting you go alone into some… haunted hill station situation.”

Adwika almost smiled.

Avinesh spoke next.

“I’m in.”

Yuvika turned. “Of course you are. You look like the type who would walk into danger just to ‘observe.’”

“I don’t walk into danger,” Avinesh said calmly.

“I walk into patterns.”

Roshan exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair.

“Great,” he muttered. “So we’re all just… okay with this?”

His eyes flickered to Adwika again.

“Are you?”

There was something unspoken in his gaze—something protective, something deeper he didn’t say out loud.

Adwika noticed.

She always did.

But she didn’t respond to that.

Instead, she looked back at the email one last time.

At the name.

Lara.

For a second—

Just a second—

She felt like she could almost remember something.

Something important.

Something she had never actually lived.

Her voice came out quieter than before.

“…We’re going.”

The fan above continued spinning.

Outside, everything remained normal.

Inside—

Something had already begun.