Aarav made a simple decision.
He would not lose time again.
No blinking longer than necessary.
No drifting thoughts.
No sleep.
If losing control meant something else took over…
Then he just wouldn’t let go.
At first, it worked.
He sat upright in his chair, lights on, phone recording continuously.
Every second accounted for.
Every minute… his.
The clock ticked.
1:12 a.m.
1:27 a.m.
1:43 a.m.
His eyes burned.
But he welcomed the pain.
It meant he was still here.
Still in control.
“Stay awake…” he whispered to himself.
“Just stay awake.”
By 3:00 a.m., his thoughts began to blur.
Not disappear.
Just… soften.
Like edges losing definition.
The room felt slightly different.
Not physically.
But perceptually.
As if it existed a fraction of a second out of sync with him.
Aarav stood up abruptly.
Movement helped.
He walked back and forth across the room, counting his steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Turn.
Repeat.
“Don’t stop,” he muttered.
“Don’t give it a chance.”
At 3:18 a.m., he stopped.
Not by choice.
His body simply… paused.
The silence deepened.
The ticking of the clock stretched unnaturally long between seconds.
Tick……
……Tick.
Aarav frowned.
“That’s not right.”
He looked at the clock.
3:18 a.m.
Still.
Not moving.
His chest tightened.
“No… no, no…”
And then—
Tick.
3:19 a.m.
The world resumed.
Aarav stepped back, breathing heavily.
“That wasn’t me,” he said quickly.
“I didn’t lose time.”
He was sure of it.
He had felt everything.
Every second.
But something had still… slipped.
He turned to the mirror.
He didn’t mean to.
His body just… did.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Just his reflection.
Tired.
Pale.
Eyes strained.
Then the reflection blinked.
Aarav didn’t.
His breath caught instantly.
“No…”
The reflection tilted its head.
Curious.
Almost amused.
“You’re still trying?” it asked.
Aarav stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the table.
“You’re not real,” he said, his voice shaking.
“You’re just—just in my head.”
The reflection smiled.
That same calm, knowing smile.
“Then why are you the one afraid?”
Aarav shook his head violently.
“No… I’m in control. I didn’t lose time. I stayed awake.”
The reflection stepped closer.
But Aarav didn’t move.
Because it wasn’t moving in the room.
Only in the mirror.
“Exactly,” it said softly.
Aarav froze.
“You’re learning,” the reflection continued.
“Losing time isn’t the only way I exist.”
A cold silence filled the room.
“What do you mean…” Aarav whispered.
The reflection raised its hand slowly.
Pressing it against the inside of the mirror.
“You think I live in the minutes you don’t remember,” it said.
“But I don’t need them anymore.”
Aarav’s heart pounded violently.
“I just needed you to notice me.”
The room felt smaller now.
Tighter.
Like the walls had moved closer without making a sound.
“You’re lying…” Aarav said, but his voice lacked conviction.
The reflection leaned forward slightly.
Its eyes sharper now.
Focused.
“Am I?” it asked.
Aarav’s breathing grew uneven.
He turned away from the mirror abruptly.
“I’m not listening to you.”
“Of course you are.”
The voice didn’t come from the mirror.
Aarav froze.
Slowly… slowly… he turned around.
The mirror was empty.
Just his reflection.
Normal.
Silent.
But the voice came again.
Clear.
Close.
“Because I’m not there anymore.”
Aarav’s chest tightened.
He felt it before he understood it.
A presence.
Not outside.
Not behind him.
Inside.
A thought that wasn’t his.
A calmness that didn’t belong.
“You’re exhausting yourself,” the voice said.
“But it won’t help.”
Aarav pressed his hands against his head.
“Get out… get out of my head…”
A soft laugh echoed—not around him, but within him.
“You still think this is your head?”
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Aarav staggered back, collapsing onto the chair.
His body trembled.
Not from fear anymore.
From something deeper.
Something breaking.
“If this isn’t mine…” he whispered, barely audible,
“Then whose is it?”
The answer came instantly.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
“Ours.”
Aarav’s eyes widened.
And for the first time…
He didn’t feel like he was losing time.
He felt like he was losing ownership.