The Girl Who Came Walking

...NEW FAMILY, OLD CURSE...

Five years had passed since Shyamlal’s body vanished and the neem tree died. The village of Devgarh had changed — modern roads had replaced dusty paths, and tourists had begun to visit, unaware of the history buried beneath.

A young couple from the city — Raghav and Meera — moved into Shyamlal’s old house, now renovated by the government as part of a heritage restoration project. They had a three-year-old daughter, Tara, curious and bright.

The villagers warned them not to stay.

"Ghosts don’t die here," said the priest quietly.

But Raghav laughed it off. "Superstitions don’t scare us. We believe in science."

But science doesn’t explain why Tara started talking to someone invisible in her room every night.

...THE “IMAGINARY” FRIEND...

It began with small things.

Tara would laugh suddenly, whisper into empty corners, and once told her mother, “She says your necklace used to be hers.”

Meera froze — the locket Tara pointed to had been found during renovation, buried in a box under the floorboards. They thought it was just an antique.

Then, one night, Meera found Tara sleepwalking… toward the forest.

Barefoot, silent, eyes glazed — just like Shyamlal had been.

And behind her, faint footprints appeared in the mud.

Small ones.

...THE RETURN...

That night, Raghav set up a camera in Tara’s room.

At 2:11 a.m., Tara sat up in bed, eyes wide open. She turned to the corner and said, “I’m ready.”

The video showed a shadowy figure enter the frame — child-sized, but its feet never touched the ground.

When they tried to show the footage to the police the next morning… the file was gone. Erased completely.

But Tara had drawn a picture.

Two figures standing near a dead tree — one was her, the other had black eyes and broken bangles.

Written in shaky letters below:

"She wants her life back."

...THE FOREST RITUAL...

Meera, desperate, returned to the priest.

He revealed the truth: “The girl Shyamlal buried wasn’t just a sacrifice. She was cursed. A soul that never got her name spoken. Never got her justice.”

“She has found your daughter. She doesn’t want company. She wants rebirth.”

There was only one way: complete the ritual under the neem tree’s dead roots. Speak the girl’s name — but first, they must find it.

Raghav, skeptical but scared, agreed.

That night, Tara whispered in her sleep:

“She says her name is Bhuri.”

...BLOOD BENEATH THE ROOTS...

At midnight, the family, led by the priest and a few brave villagers, stood before the rotting stump of the neem tree. The ground pulsed beneath their feet, as if the earth remembered.

The priest lit a circle of salt and chanted verses from the Atharva Veda. Meera, holding Tara tightly, whispered the name:

“Bhuri.”

The wind stopped.

Then a high-pitched scream split the night sky.

The ground cracked open.

A hand — skeletal, but more human than before — reached out, holding the same locket. The priest urged Meera, “Take it. Accept her.”

With trembling hands, Meera took the locket.

Tara collapsed.

...THE REBIRTH...

Tara was unconscious for three days.

When she awoke, she looked around confused, blinking slowly.

“Where’s Bhuri?” Meera asked gently.

Tara smiled. “She’s resting now. She said thank you.”

From that day on, Tara stopped sleepwalking. The shadow never returned. But she often hummed lullabies no one had taught her. Songs in an old dialect that even the priest couldn’t fully understand.

The neem tree grew back — not cursed this time, but with blossoms that glowed faintly at night.

Bhuri had finally found peace.

Or so they thought.

Because on the next full moon…

A new locket appeared on Tara’s pillow.

And inside it was a picture.

Of a young Shyamlal… and another girl no one could recognize.

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