The First Meeting

The next morning, I got ready early and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Mom looked at me with a soft smile and said,

“Samira, college is so close. Do you really have to move into the dorms? Can’t you just stay here, honey?”

I smiled back, trying to reassure her.

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself. Don’t worry—I’ll visit you on weekends, okay?”

In my defense, Dad added,

“Let her go if she wants, dear. It might help her feel better if she lives with her friends.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said gratefully.

“Alright then,” Dad continued with a grin, “but I’m dropping you off, and that’s non-negotiable.”

“Yes, Dad,” I replied, laughing softly.

---

They already knew I hadn’t moved on from the accident.

It’s strange. A phone with a virus can be restarted, reset.

But life doesn’t come with a restart button.

Before I realized it, we had arrived at my dorm.

“There you go, ma’am. We’ve reached your destination. How was the ride? Don’t forget to give me a five-star rating,” Dad joked.

“Dad!” I laughed, “Why are you acting like a cab driver? Fine, you get five stars.”

He smiled warmly.

“Well, the reason for that was simple. I just wanted to see you smile—and guess what? I succeeded.

But now that you’re staying here, please take care of yourself. Eat your meals on time, avoid going out late, sleep properly, and don’t eat junk food every day. Come home whenever you want. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” I said playfully. “But everything you just said applies to you and Mom too. So while I’m not around, you both have to take care of yourselves.”

We hugged tightly. He helped me unload my luggage, waved goodbye, and drove off.

---

I stood in front of the dorm building—the place where the next chapter of my life would begin.

Inside, I found my allotted room. It was empty for now—my roommate hadn’t arrived yet.

I knew who it would be—Rima, my childhood friend.

We’d known each other for years.

I unpacked, freshened up, and sat down to read a book.

A little peace before the chaos.

Just then, the door burst open.

“Samiraaa!” Rima yelled, practically throwing her arms around me.

Before I could respond, she unleashed a storm of words,

“Why didn’t you call me? Did you not miss me? How are you? I heard you had a birthday party! Why didn’t you invite me? Oh, wait, I was out of town—I’m so sorry! I brought you a gift! You’ll love it! Are you gonna open it? Samira, say something! Hello? You alive?”

When she finally stopped, I raised an eyebrow and asked,

“Anything else you’d like to add?”

She grinned.

“Nope, I’m done. You may speak now.”

I laughed.

“I missed you too. The party was a last-minute thing, and honestly… a lot happened that day. But thank you for not forgetting my present.”

She handed me the gift.

“Open it!”

Inside was a small, beautiful diary with a lock and a tiny golden key.

“This isn’t just for notes,” Rima said. “I want you to write down your thoughts, your feelings—everything you find hard to say out loud.

You always keep things bottled up. I know you too well.

So, when you feel like you can’t talk, write.

Let your heart breathe.

And don’t worry—it’s locked. Your secrets will be safe.”

I stared at her, speechless.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I hugged her tightly.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” I whispered. “And… thank you, for being so good to me.”

She wiped my tears gently.

“No more ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you,’ okay? I’m your best friend. Who else would care if not me? You’ve done so much for me over the years—this is nothing.”

Suddenly, she looked at the clock—and screamed.

“Oh my God! We’re late! Samira, we’ve got 15 minutes before class starts! You talk too much, and now we’re doomed!”

“I don’t think I was the one doing all the talking,” I muttered.

“What was that?” she turned to me.

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” I said, raising my hands in surrender.

“Then grab your stuff! Let’s go!”

---

She dragged me down the hallway like a hurricane.

We were racing toward our class when I suddenly bumped into someone.

My books scattered everywhere.

“Samira!” Rima yelled. “Come on, we’re late! Be careful!”

“I wasn’t being careless!” I replied. “This guy bumped into me!”

“What guy?” Rima looked around, puzzled. “There’s no one here.”

“What do you mean?” I pointed. “That guy. Right there.”

He stood tall—around 6'5", I guessed.

Fair skin, striking black eyebrows, piercing blue eyes, and golden-brown hair.

He wasn’t bulky, just perfectly fit.

He looked like a character straight out of a fantasy novel—unreal and captivating.

Rima frowned.

“Samira, not now. We don’t have time for jokes. There’s no one here.”

“I’m serious,” I said. “You really can’t see him?”

“I swear, there’s no one but us.”

Just then, a group of girls walked past.

Rima stopped them.

“Hey, do you see anyone standing here? Around us?”

They looked around and shook their heads.

“Nope, just you two,” one of them said before walking off.

Rima turned to me, concerned.

“Come on. You’re tired. Don’t mess with me right now.”

Before I could protest, she dragged me to the classroom.

I looked back one last time.

He was still standing there.

And then…

he smiled at me.

A strange, knowing smile.

And walked away.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

I couldn’t focus.

Not in class, not during lunch, not even in the dorm afterward.

Who was he?

Why could only I see him?

Was I hallucinating?

Was something wrong with me?

Maybe it was stress. Maybe I was just imagining it.

I tried to calm myself down.

But deep down…

I knew what I saw was real.

And I had a feeling—

This wasn’t the last time I’d see him.

---

To be continued...

Next Chapter: The Second Meeting

When mystery returns with answers—or deeper questions.

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