I woke up at 11 a.m. to the sound of my mom shouting, "Wake up! It's 11 o'clock! How many times do I have to call you?" As I rose from my bed, I felt a throbbing pain in my head, as if someone were crushing it.
I couldn't remember how I got back home. When I checked my forearm, expecting to see a wound, it appeared completely normal without even a scratch. It must have been just a dream. I glanced at myself in the mirror and made my way to the bathroom, but something felt off.
I quickly turned back to the mirror, and to my horror, I realized there was no iris in my eyes. They were completely black. Oh my god! Just then, my mom walked in and told me to freshen up. I tried to turn away, hoping she wouldn't notice, but it was too late. She looked at me closely, and my heart started racing uncontrollably.
"Your eyes are red," my mother exclaimed.
"I told you to dry your hair before going to bed. Look, now you've caught a cold. Your dad also asked where you left your scooter so he can take it to the service center."
"The service center?" I asked, puzzled.
"You said the tire got punctured," my mother replied, her voice filled with concern.
Confusion overwhelmed me. What was happening? There were no visible scars on my body, yet I couldn't recall how I had returned home. I had left my scooter somewhere, but why? Yesterday, I had gotten into a fight with some men at a bar, but why?
I couldn't comprehend if all of this was just a dream or a harsh reality. If the crop top I had been wearing was indeed real, then my black top must have a tear on the sleeve. I hurriedly searched for the garment in the laundry basket, but it was nowhere to be found.
The sound of the washing machine caught my attention, and I opened it in hopes of locating my top. After some searching, I finally found it. My heart raced as I inspected the left sleeve, relieved to find it intact.
However, my gut instinct still nagged at me, urging me to check the other sleeve. I gasped in disbelief as I discovered it was torn. Was I losing my mind? How did I suddenly possess such strength to lift a man? How did the knife fail to pierce through my body? And how did I end up finding myself in that bar when I had never even been there before? The situation was confounding, especially with the peculiar state of my eyes, which my mother couldn't seem to notice.
I recalled asking something to the men in the bar, but the reason behind my inquiries eluded me completely. It was beyond frustrating. If things continued like this, I feared I might even resort to pulling out my own hair. Perhaps wearing sunglasses could help conceal my unusual eyes and bring some solace.
Rani had sent me job offers, and it was high time I focused my attention on them rather than dwelling on these inexplicable circumstances. It was crucial to redirect my energy towards building a future and moving forward.
I had sent my CV via email and needed to print out a few copies. Heading to the nearby printing shop, I approached the shopkeeper and requested, "Bro, I need five copies of each." The sun was shining brightly, and I kept my sunglasses on to conceal my unsettling dark eyes.
As the shopkeeper scanned the documents in the machine, I glanced at my reflection in the shop's glass door, which had sun protectors installed. Curiosity got the better of me, and I removed my sunglasses, hoping for a change. However, to my dismay, my eyes remained pitch black.
Intrigued and slightly disturbed, I attempted to touch the eyes of my reflection, only to notice something peculiar on my hand—a substance that was visible solely in the reflection. It appeared as if a smoky substance was emanating from the center of my palm, even though there was nothing there in reality.
Feeling a mix of fear and confusion, I checked my other hand and gasped in horror. Both of my hands had darkness within the palm, with smoky wisps emerging from them. The sight sent shivers down my spine. Compelled by an overwhelming curiosity, I cautiously reached out to touch my reflection again. Instead of the resistance of the glass door, my fingers passed through it as if it were insubstantial. Meanwhile, the fingers of my reflection extended outward, displaying the same eerie darkness.
Hastily retracting my hand, I managed to hold back a scream, feeling a deep sense of unease settling within me. As I walked out of the shop, the shopkeeper handed me the printed copies, and I paid him for the service.
However, as I turned around, I suddenly jerked back in surprise. He was standing right there, a few feet away from me. I quickly averted my gaze and fumbled to put on my sunglasses, hoping to shield my eyes from his sight. After mustering the courage, I turned back to face him, my voice filled with confusion.
"What are you doing here?" I questioned, trying to maintain a composed demeanor.
He stood there silently, wearing a white t-shirt that fit him perfectly, paired with black cargo pants. Taking a step toward me without uttering a word, he made me feel uneasy. In response, I instinctively took a step back, only to stumble against the shop door. I frantically tried to regain my balance. To my astonishment, he bent down, bringing his face close to mine. I could see his dark brown eyes, but upon closer inspection, something peculiar caught my attention—the definition of his irises seemed to be expanding and contracting, creating an exotic and captivating effect.
I couldn't help but wonder if he had caught a glimpse of my own unusual eyes. "What?" I frowned, still feeling a mix of unease and curiosity.
"Nothing," he quickly replied, seemingly brushing off the previous encounter. He stepped back, creating some distance between us. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, as I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.
Deciding not to engage in further conversation with him, I continued walking, determined to put some space between us. However, he unexpectedly came up beside me, causing me to tense up. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact.
"What's with the papers?" he inquired, seemingly interested.
I kept my response short and direct, "For my job interviews." I didn't elaborate any further, maintaining my focus on the path ahead.
"You're still looking for a job?" he asked, his voice sounding curious.
"Yes," I replied, not giving him any more than a one-word answer.
His next question caught me off guard. "Can I give you an idea?"
I abruptly halted in my tracks, causing him to also stop and face me. Turning to fully face him, I met his gaze. The irritation in my expression was evident as I spoke sternly, "Don't you dare suggest I need to exorcise ghosts."
I glared at him, making my stance clear. A mischievous smile formed on his face as he responded, "I was actually going to suggest exactly that."
His attempt at humor didn't amuse me, and I continued walking, determined to leave him behind.
"Hey, wait! I was just kidding," his voice called out from where I had left him. I chose to ignore him and kept walking, not wanting to entertain any further banter.
Suddenly, his voice reached my ears again, this time with a more serious tone. "Chitra Gupta owns a data entry company. I can recommend you to him," he said, catching my attention.
Intrigued, I turned back to face him, and he started walking towards me. "How can I trust you?" I asked, still skeptical of his intentions.
He seemed confident in his offer as he responded, "Come with me, and I will take you to his company. You can see for yourself."
Considering his proposal, I contemplated the options. However, I decided to exercise caution and replied, "Give me the address, and I will visit later to check it out on my own."
He insisted, "No, let's go together. Get ready at 4, and we'll go there together. That way, you can meet Chitra Gupta in person and get a better sense of the opportunity."
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Taking this chance might offer some clarity and potential progress in my job search.
It was 3:55 p.m., and I stood outside my home, anxiously waiting for him with my file in hand. I had chosen to wear a stylish houndstooth blazer over a black tee, paired with black jeans. Of course, I made sure not to forget my sunglasses.
Suddenly, I flinched as he casually laid his arm across my shoulder, catching me off guard. "Why are you wearing glasses?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
Feeling uncomfortable, I instinctively hunched my shoulders and moved away from him, creating some distance. Searching for an excuse, I quickly responded, "I have conjunctivitis. I don't want it to spread, so I need to wear these."
It was a lie, but I hoped it would deter any further questions about my unusual eyes and help maintain a sense of normalcy.
"Give me the key," he requested, extending his palm towards me.
Confused, I inquired, "For what?"
"To drive," he replied confidently. Uncertain about his driving abilities, I hesitated for a moment, then decided to take charge.
"I will drive," I asserted, taking out my keys from my pocket.
He insisted, "I'm the one who knows the way." His claim made me consider the practicality of letting him drive. After a brief pause, I reluctantly handed him the keys, realizing that it might be more efficient to rely on his familiarity with the route. As he started the scooter and shifted it out of the parking area, my sigh of resignation escaped me.
He turned to the left and positioned himself on the scooter, waiting for me to join him. "Climb up, my lady," he winked playfully, attempting to persuade me to ride with him.
Sensing potential prying eyes, I quickly responded, "Not here. Go and wait at the corner of the street. I'll join you there."
He frowned in confusion, prompting me to explain further, "I don't want the neighbors to see me. If they do, they'll start gossiping behind my back."
His raised eyebrows conveyed his skepticism, and he challenged my concerns, asking, "So what if they do?"
I sighed, realizing I needed to clarify my point, "They'll spread malicious rumors about me. I'd rather avoid that unnecessary drama."
"If they talk like that, I'll shut their mouths for good," he said, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. His playful comment momentarily tempted me to smile in response, but I reminded myself to stay focused.
"Just go," I replied, maintaining a serious tone. He nodded in understanding and departed, leaving me to gather my thoughts and prepare for the journey ahead. As I walked towards the left corner of the street, my mind was filled with questions. Why was he being so nice to me? Did he have ulterior motives? I reminded myself to remain cautious and vigilant, not allowing myself to be easily swayed by his charm.
Reaching the corner, I saw him patiently waiting on my scooter. I climbed onto the backseat and secured myself by gripping the handlebar at the back with my right hand.
He started the scooter and accelerated quickly, causing me to instinctively request, "Go slow. I thought you would use your magic to get us there."
"Oh, if you're up for it, we can give it a try next time. Just don't blame me if you end up losing your whole meal," he jokingly remarked.
Curious, I questioned, "Why? Does it feel like being on a boat?"
He shook his head and clarified, "No, it's not quite like that. Since you have a normal human body, traveling through magic from one place to another can cause discomfort. It may make you feel sick and uneasy."
As we rode on the scooter, I couldn't help but notice his broad shoulders, which obstructed my view of the road ahead. I had to sit up straight and strain to see beyond him. He continued to speed up, making me hold on tightly to the scooter to avoid falling off. However, the thought of holding on to him directly was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. It felt like a worst-case scenario in my mind, a situation I desperately wished to avoid.
We finally arrived at our destination, greeted by a main gate manned by a watchman. I stepped off the scooter while he took care of parking it. He led the way, walking ahead of me. As we approached the gate, he acknowledged the watchman with a simple nod of his head. The gate was already open, allowing us to enter the premises.
Inside, I was impressed by the size of the company. The building was expansive, adorned with numerous glass doors and windows. Two buildings stood side by side, and we made our way towards the one on the right.
The main hall welcomed us with a burst of color and lively decorations. The walls were adorned with vibrant paintings, seemingly designed to uplift the spirits of those working under pressure. To the left of the reception table, there was an elevator, offering access to different floors. In the center of the hall, a wide staircase with gray marble steps awaited, accompanied by glass handrails on both sides. The ceiling stretched across both the ground floor and the first floor, adding to the sense of spaciousness.
We went inside the elevator. There were no other people in the elevator. We stepped inside the elevator, finding ourselves alone in its confined space. I leaned against the back wall, observing him closely. Meanwhile, he stood upright, seemingly lost in his thoughts as his gaze wandered towards the ceiling. He crossed his arms, his left foot lightly tapping the floor.
I mirrored his posture, crossing my own arms and silently studying him. I couldn't help but notice his striking black hair, which added to his overall appeal. His haircut was well-maintained, neither too short nor too long, perfectly complementing his features.
Suddenly, he turned his head to the left and glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to himself.
I couldn't quite decipher his intentions, but I remained intrigued. As the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, a young man around the age of 25 entered, clad in a black shirt adorned with a pattern of rose flowers and blue jeans. He wore square-framed spectacles, which added a touch of intellectual charm to his appearance. The elevator doors closed once again, and he positioned himself to my left, leaning against the wall with his backside. The tag hanging from his pants pocket indicated that he must be an employee of the company we were visiting.