Chapter 5: The Silence Between Us
The days turned into weeks, and the memory of that haunted rooftop began to slip quietly into the background of their lives. Anay, out of old habit, found himself wandering up the stairs after dinner, phone in hand, ready for another quiet conversation under the open sky. He barely the way the night pressed against the windows, shadowy and silent.
Below, Saurav caught a glimpse of Anay disappearing up the staircase. A surge of disbelief hit him. He spun around, searching for Shivam and Nitin, heart thudding. “You were pranking me, right?” Saurav demanded, his words tumbling out. “Nothing happened on the roof when I went home, right? Because I just saw Anay going up there like nothing ever happened.”
The color drained from Nitin and Shivam’s faces as Anay disappeared up the stairs. Fear rooted them to the spot, yet neither dared follow. Minutes ticked by—long, uneasy moments—until at last Anay returned, descending from the rooftop as if nothing had happened. He slid back into their midst without uttering a word about his brief absence.
The others pressed him: What did you see? Why did you go up there? But Anay shrugged off every question, his lips sealed tight. Eventually, their curiosity waned, but the silence spoke for itself. The shadow of fear lingered in Anay’s eyes, a silent testament to whatever mystery the rooftop held that night.
As summer slowly gave way to the impatient winds of autumn, the campus thrummed with a new kind of electricity. Companies began to visit, and the seniors—Rahul, Ishaan, Harshit, and Niranjan—transformed almost overnight. Gone were the carefree days; in their place stood young men with crisp haircuts and meticulously pressed shirts, navigating the familiar college halls in formals that felt both alien and oddly empowering.
Each morning, the four would gather in the mess, a nervous energy shimmering between them as they rehearsed interview answers and straightened each other’s ties. The air was thick with hope, mingled with anxiety, as they watched the flow of candidates and waited for their names to be called. With every company that arrived, the stakes seemed to grow higher; every handshake and every question became a test, not only of knowledge, but of who they imagined themselves becoming.
Ishaan was the first among them to receive his placement letter—a whirlwind of excitement swept through his world. Not long after, Harshit followed, securing his own offer from a prominent MNC. Together, they reveled in the thrill of new beginnings, their conversations bubbling with dreams of city lights and corporate corridors. Meanwhile, Anay and his friends, sensing the weight of impending exams, buried themselves in books and late-night revision sessions, the soft flicker of table lamps casting anxious shadows across their notes. While outside, the world moved on, inside their hearts, anticipation and anxiety interwove, tying them all to the coming days in ways none could yet imagine.
The news of their placements swept over them like a gust of long-awaited relief. Ishaan, Harshit, Saurav, Niranjan and the rest of their circle had braved endless exams, interviews, and sleepless nights. Now, with offer letters in hand, celebration was not just inevitable—it was necessary.
The decision was made one lazy evening: a rooftop party under the broad, indifferent sky. Ishaan volunteered to bring the drinks, his excitement barely contained. Harshit promised to handle the food, already texting their favorite takeout spot. Rahul and Niranjan, though, excused themselves; an off-campus drive the next day had them anxious and unwilling to tempt fate or hangovers. They wished their friends luck, their voices trailing off as they disappeared into their books.
An invitation was extended to Anay and his group as well, but they declined. The shadow of their previous encounter on the rooftop lingered, a silent warning that neither end semester exams nor bravado could dispel. Saurav, however, was unfazed. He’d been away during the infamous incident and considered the stories nothing but the exaggerated tales of a few anxious students. When Ishaan called to invite him, he accepted without hesitation.
Ishaan, Harshit, and Saurav hauled their supplies up the stairs—the insulated can brimming with cold water, a plastic bag of snacks rattling in Harshit’s grip, a battered speaker swinging from Saurav’s hand. With practiced efficiency, they spread the old mattress along the rooftop’s edge, arranging themselves in a triangle: Ishaan, always alert, faced the entrance; Harshit and Saurav lounged opposite him, the city lights flickering behind their backs.
The trio settled in, the sounds of laughter and clinking bottles mingling with the faint music from the speaker, a sense of camaraderie threading between them. On this night, the rooftop was their world—its secrets and past fears momentarily forgotten under the promise of celebration and the open sky.
As the night grew deeper, the rooftop was alive with laughter and the clink of glasses. The three friends—seated in a triangle on the old mattress, surrounded by snacks and the hum of music—felt a rare sense of accomplishment wash over them. In that moment, celebration eclipsed every memory of the past.
Suddenly, Ishaan’s demeanor changed. He straightened abruptly, his eyes wide with an urgency that startled the others. “Leave everything. We have to go. Now,” he commanded, his voice sharp and unrecognizable.
Harshit and Saurav exchanged confused glances. “Why? What happened?” Saurav managed to ask, his voice echoing the unease settling around them.
Ishaan’s response exploded from him—an angry outburst rawer than any of them had ever witnessed. “Just listen to what I am saying!” he yelled, already moving towards the stairs, leaving his bewildered friends scrambling to follow.
Ishaan bolted down the stairwell, heart thundering against his ribs. His trembling hands barely managed to secure the lock on his door before his knees gave way. Upstairs, Harshit and Saurav exchanged anxious glances, uncertainty tightening their features, but soon they hurried to Anay’s room below.
Inside, Anay, Nitin, and Shivam sat cross-legged on the floor, textbooks scattered between them, the yellow glow of the lamp flickering across their tense faces. The abrupt arrival of Harshit and Saurav shattered the uneasy calm. Shadows seemed to stretch and shiver along the walls, as if listening in.
Saurav and Harshit, breathless and shaken, scrambled to explain everything to the group. The tension in the air was nearly palpable as they hurried down the corridor, the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the walls. When they reached Ishaan’s room, however, they found the door tightly locked from the inside. Anay placed a steadying hand on Saurav’s shoulder and said quietly, “Let’s wait until morning to find out what happened. There’s no use standing here all night.” Reluctantly, each of them drifted back to their own rooms, uncertainty and fear trailing after them like shadows in the dimly lit hallway.
Ink of Dread 
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