Frequencies of Us - Part 2
- Aaditya Mehta
- Jun 8, 2025
- 2 min read
The station was quiet.
Platform 3 looked the same as it did a year ago, but something had changed. Not visually, not physically, but something in the air felt unfamiliar.
Aarav walked past the vending machine and the rusting bench where Meera once teased him for comparing time travel to reheating fries. The clock above ticked along just fine, but everything around him was too still. Not even the pigeons flapped anymore.
At exactly 11:11 PM, a low hum crept into his spine.
It wasn’t a train. It wasn’t the wind.
It felt like a pulse.
His watch screen glitched. Then it froze.
A faint blue shimmer danced above the tracks. For just a second, the air wavered like a mirage, and within it, a human outline.
Aarav blinked.
Gone.
He turned, and there she was.
A girl. Her posture. Her eyes. Her silence.
It was Meera.
But older. Different. She carried a calmness that didn’t exist in the version he remembered. A weight, like she had seen more than him.
She didn’t move toward him. She didn’t smile. She just looked at him, puzzled. Almost as if he was the one out of place.
“Meera” he whispered.
She looked confused.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
Aarav’s heart paused. At this moment, he couldn’t decide what was worse. Losing her forever or finding a version of her who didn’t know him at all.
“I think you do,” he said. “In another... frequency.”
Her expression didn’t change, but she didn’t walk away either. There was something in her stare. A flicker of memory or recognition. Maybe curiosity.
Then, the stillness shattered.
A metallic screech echoed through the station.
The digital clock blinked once, then reset.
00:00
The lights on the platform flickered wildly. Meera’s form began to glitch, like a badly tuned signal on an old TV.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, voice quieter now. “You’re out of sync.”
Aarav stepped forward, desperate to hold on to this moment, to her.
But she was fading.
And her voice was breaking apart with static.
“Find the frequency before…..”
She was gone.
Silence again.
The clock blinked back to 11:07 PM.
No flickers. No shimmer. No Meera.
Just Aarav, standing alone.
Except for one thing.
His notebook, the one tucked inside his coat, now had a page missing.
On the next page, scribbled in Meera’s handwriting, it read:
You’re close. But you’re not the only one searching.
To be continued...
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