Unknown Mind: Zaiyen’s Diary

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 20: The Diary Is Now Yours   ✍️ Final Entry by Zaiyen So this is where it ends… Or begins. I’m no longer trapped in the story.   I’m beyond it.   But the diary… it didn’t disappear.   It passed on. To you. Yes — **you**, reading this. --- This isn’t just my diary anymore.   It’s alive.   It finds those who are close to the edge.   The ones who feel like their dreams   are warnings. The ones who think their thoughts   aren’t their own. The ones who whisper things they’ve never heard —   but always knew. If you're reading this far…   you’ve already been chosen. --- The final page turned itself today. And it didn’t show words. It showed **your face**. A future version of you —   writing your story   with trembling hands and burning truth. --- Because here’s the twist   you never saw...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 19: The Truth I Choose   ✍️ By Zaiyen The room wasn’t a room anymore.   It felt like a **dimension made of pages**.   Floating memories.   Unwritten futures.   Flickering pieces of timelines   that never fully existed…   until now. And in front of me,   the Third Diary glowed.   Alive. A choice pulsed on its final page: > “Choose the truth you want to live.   > Only one will remain.   > The rest will be erased — including you.” --- I looked at Ameya. She wasn’t herself anymore.   Or maybe… she was something **more**. The Author was inside her,   or maybe she *was* the Author all along. > “Write the ending, Zaiyen,” she said.   > “Before someone else writes it for you.” But I was scared.   What if I chose wrong? What if choosing a reality   means...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 18: The Author Is Awake   ✍️ By Zaiyen We thought we were alone. Just two people   living twisted versions of the same life. But the moment we wrote together —   the diary changed. The walls around us started bleeding ink.   Lines from the past,   future,   and impossible memories poured across the floor. And in the center…   a **third diary** appeared. Untouched.   Unwritten. Except for one line: > “I created you.” --- We opened it — cautiously. It didn’t tell stories.   It gave **commands**. > “Zaiyen, forget your fear.”   > “Ameya, remember what you erased.”   >   > “Your world was never yours.   > You were characters   > who tried to become real.” We weren’t reading stories anymore.   We *were* the story. --- Ameya began to cry.   Not ...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 17: One Diary, Two Realities   ✍️ By Zaiyen Ameya and I sat in silence —   two strangers connected by something we didn’t write. We both had pieces of a diary.   Same stories.   Same handwriting. But some pages… were **different**. In her version, my sister never disappeared.   In mine, her father never died. Both versions true.   Both memories real —   but in **different timelines**. --- We laid the diaries side by side. Same entry.   Different outcomes. > Me: “I saw the shadow figure in the hallway.”   >   > Ameya: “There was no shadow. There was *me* standing there, calling your name.” What is this? Not a dream.   Not a lie. But **two layers of reality** merging   because someone — or something —   is trying to connect us. --- And then the page turned by itself. Both diaries....

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 16: She Knows My Ending Too   ✍️ By Zaiyen I thought the diary was only mine.   But the last line said:   > “She’s reading too.” Who is *she*? That night, I dreamt of a girl.   In a dark room.   Reading — **my diary.** Page by page.   Tears in her eyes.   Whispers on her lips:   > “Please… don’t do it, Zaiyen.” I’d never seen her before.   But I woke up feeling like I’d always known her. --- That morning, a message appeared in the diary: > “She’ll find you at 5:44 PM.   > Don’t be afraid.” I waited. And then —   she appeared. In real life. Same face from my dream.   Same clothes.   Same voice. She said: > “I found you… finally.” --- Her name was **Ameya**.   She said she’s been dreaming *my* life for months.   As if someone was feeding her pages of my dia...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 15: Who Is Writing My Story Now?   ✍️ By Zaiyen Since I turned to the last page…   something changed. The diary stopped showing future entries.   It was now completely blank. But every time I touched my pen to the page —   **words appeared by themselves**. Not typed.   Not printed. But written…   in my own **handwriting**. --- It began with one word:   > “Hello.” Then more: > “You weren’t supposed to look.”   > “Now I write, and you obey.” I dropped the pen.   But the writing continued. > “Run to the window.”   > “Now.” I hesitated.   But something in me moved.   And I ran. Just in time to avoid…   a ceiling fan crashing down where I stood. --- The diary knew.   Or the thing writing inside it — did. It began controlling my actions,   one sentence at a tim...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 14: The Diary That Knew What I’d Write   ✍️ By Zaiyen It looked like mine.   Same leather cover.   Same ink stains on the side.   But inside… it was already **filled**. Every page.   Every word.   Written — in **my handwriting** —   but I hadn’t written them yet. --- I flipped through the entries.   Some were about things that hadn’t happened. > “Tomorrow at 4:43 PM, the bell will ring twice.   > Don’t open the door.” > “Don’t answer the third phone call.   > Even if it says ‘Mom.’” > “Avoid mirrors on June 21st.   > You’ll understand why.” --- And then —   the most terrifying one: > “If you reach the last page…   > It means you didn’t listen.” --- I shut the book.   But that night, the bell rang.   Twice.   At 4:43 PM. No one was at th...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 13: The Place I Was Warned Never to Visit   ✍️ By Zaiyen Ever since the burnt letter appeared…   my dreams changed. They weren’t about people anymore.   Or mirrors.   Or deaths. They were about a **place**. A narrow lane.   Rusty gates.   Faint sounds of temple bells.   And a broken milestone with no name. I didn’t recognize it —   until one day… I passed it on the way to town. --- It looked **exactly** like the dream. Same rusted gate.   Same silence in the air. The place felt wrong.   Like a memory I never had.   But my bones remembered. And then —   I saw the milestone. Scratched into the surface: > “Not all paths lead forward.” --- I stood frozen.   This was it.   The place I had been warned about. The letter said not to go back.   Not here. But what if I already...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 12: The Burnt Letter I Never Wrote   ✍️ By Zaiyen It was a normal evening…   until I smelled **smoke**. I ran through the house.   No fire.   No burnt food. But the smell led me to my **desk drawer**. Inside — nothing unusual.   Except for one thing I’d never seen before: A letter.   Old.   Scorched at the edges.   Addressed…   **to me.** --- I opened it with shaking hands. The writing was mine.   But faded.   Ash-colored ink. It read: > “Zaiyen,   > I’ve made a mistake.   > If you’re reading this, it means I failed again.   > Don’t go to the place where it all started.   > Burn this before midnight.   > Or it’ll start over.”   >   > — You. --- What place?   What mistake?   What would “start over”...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 11: The Girl Who Was Never Born… But Knew Me   ✍️ By Zaiyen It started as a random dream.   A garden.   Soft wind.   And a girl sitting by the tree — sketching something. She looked about 14.   Calm.   But there was something about her eyes —   like she had seen **everything**. I asked her name. She smiled and said,   > “I don’t have one. I was never born.” --- I laughed, nervously.   But she didn’t. Then she held up the sketchpad —   and showed me a drawing. It was… **me**.   Older.   Frowning.   Standing in a burning room. And beneath the sketch, in tiny letters:   > “You promised you’d save me.” --- I jolted awake. But the dream returned the next night.   And the next. She always waited.   Always drawing.   Always staring straight through me...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 10: The Day I Dreamt of My Own Funeral   ✍️ By Zaiyen Most of my visions were about **others**.   Their accidents.   Their last moments.   Their fears. But this time…   it was about me. --- It began in total silence.   A crowd stood in white.   I didn’t recognize many of them —   but I knew the place.   Our family’s old house.   The one we lost long ago. There was a framed photo in the center.   My face.   Smiling. Dead. --- People cried.   Some whispered regrets.   But one person…   stood apart. A girl I’d never seen before. She looked straight at the photo — and said,   > “He knew too much.   > That’s why it happened.” Then she turned —   and looked **directly at me**. Not at the photo.   At **me** — watching the dream fro...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 9: The Mirror That Lied   ✍️ By Zaiyen After the phone call, I became obsessed with the date —   **27th**. But something else started to change. It began with the **mirror in my room**. I walked past it one night…   and noticed something was off. My reflection didn’t match me. --- Not in the usual way —   not the delay, or the tilt. It was…   **wrong**. My eyes blinked twice when I only blinked once.   My reflection smiled… when I didn’t. And then it whispered: > **“You missed your chance. Again.”** I froze. My heart pounded.   I turned around — nothing.   Turned back — it was normal again. --- The next night, it happened again.   But this time… the reflection didn’t move at all.   Like a frozen version of me.   Just watching. I covered the mirror with a cloth.   But something still felt like it ...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 8: The Number That Called Me From the Future   ✍️ By Zaiyen It was 9:06 AM.   Exactly as the diary said. My phone rang.   An unknown number.   No caller ID. No location. Just silence. I hesitated, then answered. What I heard…   was my own voice. --- But older.   More tired.   And terrified. **“Don’t trust the mirror,”** it said.   **“And whatever happens on the 27th… don't stay home.”** Then — the line cut. --- I dropped the phone.   Not because I was scared,   but because I knew that voice.   The way it trembled.   The pain in it.   It was **me**. But how? --- I checked my call history —   nothing.   No record.   Like it never happened. But it did. I could still hear the echo of my own voice   ringing in my ears. --- Later, I looked at the calendar....

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 7: The Diary That Started Writing Itself   ✍️ By Zaiyen I always kept a diary.   It started as a habit.   Then a pattern.   Then… a warning system. But one day, something strange happened. I woke up.   Opened the diary to write —   And a new page was already filled in. In **my handwriting**.   But I hadn’t written it. --- The page read: > “Dark road.   > One light flickers.   > A man in a white shirt waits —   > but not for long.”   >   > — 3:42 AM I froze.   I touched the ink.   It was dry. I hadn’t even opened the diary the night before. Was I sleepwriting?   Or was it something else? --- That night, I stayed up.   I locked the diary in my drawer. But the next morning —   it happened again. A new page.   New writing....

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 6: The First Time I Saw It… and Tried to Stop It   ✍️ By Zaiyen I was sixteen.   The first time it happened — fully, clearly —   and I tried to change the ending. The dream was short, but sharp. A green bike.   A girl in yellow.   A speeding lorry.   Blood on gravel.   A slipper rolling down the road. I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat. It felt **too real**.   Like it had already happened. --- That morning, I couldn’t stay home.   Something inside me burned.   I grabbed my cycle and went straight to the corner near the temple road. I didn’t know what I was looking for.   I just… **waited**. And then I saw her.   The yellow kurti. The green bike.   Everything matched. **This was it.** --- I screamed.   I ran across the road like a madman.   I didn’t care who stared. I ...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 5: The Person Who Knew Before I Spoke   ✍️ By Zaiyen Until now, I thought I was alone.   Alone in the dreams.   Alone in the silence.   Alone in the guilt. But one day, someone looked at me differently.   Not with confusion.   Not with pity. With understanding. --- Her name was **Anira**. She was my friend’s cousin.   We met during a temple trip.   Quiet girl. Always scribbling in a diary like me.   But when we sat under the neem tree that evening,   she said something that stopped me cold: **“You’ve heard it too… haven’t you?”** I didn’t speak.   I didn’t need to.   She already knew. --- Anira told me things I hadn’t told anyone —   that the dreams come in flashes.   That people in them feel familiar even when you’ve never seen them.   That there’s a moment — between d...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 4: The Whisper That Called My Name   ✍️ By Zaiyen It was 3:17 AM.   The world outside was silent.   Even the fan above me spun without a sound.   But something broke the stillness.   A whisper.   Not from a dream.   Not from a memory.   From the room.   It wasn’t loud.   It wasn’t even clear.   But it said my name:   **“Zaiyen…”** --- I sat up immediately, heart racing.   Was someone there?   Was I asleep?   Was this… another echo? No.   I was wide awake.   And I knew one thing:   **I wasn’t alone.** --- People think fear comes with sound.   But this was different.   This was the kind of fear that makes your body still   and your mind sprint. I whispered back,   *"Who's there?"* Silence. But inside, I...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 3: When Silence Starts Screaming   ✍️ By Zaiyen I used to think silence was peace.   But now, silence felt like a scream —   one no one else could hear. The more I stayed quiet,   the louder the world became inside my mind. Every ticking clock, every closed door,   every time someone said “It’s okay”…   It echoed inside me   like thunder trapped in a glass jar. --- I stopped sharing my dreams.   Stopped warning people.   Because I was tired of hearing the same thing: **“You’re imagining things.”**   **“You’re scaring yourself.”** But it wasn’t imagination.   It was happening. And I was starting to wonder… **What if I’m not just seeing things before they happen?**   **What if I’m becoming part of them?** --- One night, I heard my own heartbeat in the dark.   Loud. Uneven.   It fel...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 2: They Thought I Was Overthinking   ✍️ By Zaiyen "Maybe you're just overthinking again." That’s what everyone said. When I told them I had a strange feeling about Grandpa's health,   they laughed it off. When I mentioned seeing a bus accident in my dream —   two days before it happened on the same road near our village —   they said,   **"Coincidence."** But I knew it wasn’t. It’s hard to explain what it feels like…   when you know something's coming,   but no one believes you. --- Even **Zeeran**, my closest cousin, grew tired of listening.   *"Why do you always expect something bad to happen, bro?"*   he asked once, shaking his head. I didn’t.   I **never wanted** any of it to happen. But it did.   Again and again. --- I started withdrawing from everyone.   Smiling less. Talking less. Sleeping mo...

 📓 Echoes Before It Happens: Zaiyen’s Diary   🗓️ Part 1: I Dreamt It Before It Hurt   ✍️ By Zaiyen I was just a quiet boy in 2021.   No signs. No warnings. Just… echoes. It started with a dream. Someone I loved was standing at the edge of a dark field.   Her face — pale. Her eyes — not blinking.   She reached out to me and said,   **"I’m cold."** I woke up with a heavy chest and an ache in my heart.   I didn’t understand it.   But the very next day, I got the call —   **She was sick. Really sick.** That dream wasn’t random.   It was **real**. Or something more than real. --- I tried to ignore it.   I told myself, "Coincidence, Zaiyen. Just bad timing."   But something deeper whispered:   **“No. You saw it.”** --- Days passed. But the dreams didn’t. Each time I saw something strange in my sleep,   something real happened — days later. ...

 📖 **Diary of a Rebuilt Soul**   _By Aarav_ This isn’t the same heart that once broke. This isn’t the same voice that once stayed quiet. This is me now —   rebuilt, realigned,   **reborn**. --- Not perfect.   Not finished.   But finally… free. --- There were pages in my life   I wanted to tear out.   Days I wished had never happened.   Moments I was ashamed to speak of. But now I see… Those pages weren’t mistakes.   They were **foundations**. --- Every scar I carry is a sentence.   Every fear I conquered is a chapter.   Every time I got back up is the reason   this story is worth telling. --- I don’t write this as someone who “won.”   I write it as someone who **survived**.   Who chose to rebuild, even with broken pieces. Who learned that life   doesn’t ask you to be perfect —   just **honest**. --- So if you’re reading thi...

 🔥 **Fear Didn’t Win**   _By Aarav_ For years, I let fear wear my name. I shrank.   I stayed quiet.   I played small —   just so I wouldn’t shake the ground beneath me. --- Fear told me: “You’re not enough.”   “You’ll fail.”   “Don’t try.” And I listened. Until one day…   something in me cracked. Not from pain.   But from **potential**. --- I got tired of watching life from the sidelines.   Tired of second-guessing myself.   Tired of living halfway. So I stood up —   shaking, nervous, unsure —   and said,   **“Not anymore.”** --- I spoke my truth.   I took the risks.   I made the choices that scared me most. And guess what? 💬 Fear backed down. --- It didn’t vanish completely.   It still whispers sometimes.   But now I know: It’s just a noise.   Not a command. --- I choose bravery.   I choose g...

 🌱 **What I Know Now**   _By Aarav_ Pain changes you.   But growth?   That’s a choice. Looking back on everything —   the breakdowns, the fears, the quiet nights, the lonely mornings —   I realize… I’ve learned more from my pain than I ever did from peace. --- Here’s what I know now: 🟢 **1. Healing isn’t linear.**   Some days you’ll feel strong.   Other days, you’ll break again.   Both are part of progress. 🟢 **2. You don’t need everyone to understand you.**   The right people will feel your silence.   The rest were never meant to stay. 🟢 **3. Courage doesn’t look loud.**   Sometimes, courage is going through the day   without giving up — even with a trembling heart. --- 🟢 **4. Being ‘okay’ is not the goal.**   Feeling, crying, laughing, breaking, rebuilding —   **that** is being human. 🟢 **5. Self-respect is everything.**   Lov...

 🦋 **From Broken to Brave**   _By Aarav_ There was a time   when even opening my eyes felt like effort.   When fear wore my name…   and I was a stranger in my own skin. But now? Now, I see **who I became**. Not by accident.   But by fight. --- I was broken — yes.   Shattered by loss, guilt, and silence. But somewhere, between the breakdowns and rebuilds…   between the fear and the faith…   I changed. --- Not all strength looks like shouting.   Mine looked like getting out of bed.   Like showing up to work quietly.   Like smiling at my parents after wiping my tears. --- Bravery wasn’t a roar.   It was a whisper that said: 💬 “Keep going, even if no one claps.” And I did. --- I forgave myself.   I owned my story.   I stopped asking “Why me?” and started saying,   **“Try me.”** --- They say scars make you ugly.   But I think s...

 🤝 **I Was Never Alone**   _By Aarav_ In the quietest nights,   when it felt like the world had forgotten me —   there was always a **whisper** I missed. A hand.   A look.   A presence I never acknowledged enough. --- I thought I was carrying the weight alone.   But I wasn’t. --- My mother, tired yet smiling,   bringing me tea without asking. My father, silent…   but always checking if I had eaten. My brother, showing tough love,   yet never letting me fall behind. Even friends who messaged just once in weeks —   but always said,   “Here if you need me.” --- In my pain, I had become blind.   But now I see it clearly… I was **never alone**. --- They didn’t always say the right words.   They didn’t always understand my silence. But they stood by me.   In their way.   Quietly. Faithfully. And that’s love too. --- There were even times I...

 🌅 **The Day I Felt Alive Again**   _By Aarav_ There’s a moment…   after all the pain,   the rebuilding,   the quiet strength —   where life suddenly feels **real** again. For me, that day wasn’t planned.   It wasn’t grand. It started like any other.   But something inside me was different. --- I had just finished work,   walked to the terrace,   and sat under the early evening sky. And for the first time in years,   my heart didn’t feel heavy. --- I looked around —   No applause.   No music.   No big news. But still… I smiled. Because I could finally feel it. **Peace.** Not the kind that comes from escape,   but the kind that comes from **acceptance**. --- I had faced storms.   Watched life fall apart.   Lost parts of myself I thought I’d never find again. But I was here.   Still standing.   Still breat...

 ⚔️ **Back to the Battle**   _By Aarav_ Rebuilding my inner strength was one thing.   But **stepping back into the real world** —   that was the true test. After everything that happened —   the loss, the breakdown, the silence —   returning to work felt like going to war…   with my **own fears**. --- Would people still believe in me?   Could I focus again?   Would I panic under pressure? Those questions haunted me. But I didn’t let them win. --- The first day back in front of my laptop,   I stared at the screen longer than I’d like to admit.   Not because I forgot my skills —   but because I was afraid of **being seen as broken**. But then I reminded myself: 💬 “I survived the worst —   a line of code can’t scare me.” --- So I began… slowly.   Fixing bugs.   Joining calls.   Responding to feedback. Bit by bit,   I felt my *...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 20: The Last Page (Finale)** I sat at the desk where I wrote my first journal entry. But this time…   I wasn’t afraid. This wasn’t a page written in darkness.   It was born from fire.   From survival. --- I opened a new notebook.   Not Yalini’s.   Not mine. **Ours.** --- And I wrote: > “Dear Unknown Mind,   > You were once my enemy.   > A fog I couldn’t see through.   > A fear that whispered louder than my thoughts.” > “But today, I don’t fear you.   > I understand you.” > “You showed me the real face of silence — and how to scream inside it.”   > “You showed me what love looks like when it chooses to stay… even uninvited.”   > “And you reminded me…   > that healing doesn’t mean forgetting.”   > “It means remembering — and surviving anyway.” --- I closed the notebook. No tears....

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 19: The House on the Hill** I followed the address the doctor gave me. A silent hill station road.   Fog curling around every corner.   Trees whispering secrets I couldn’t hear yet. And then… I saw it. A house. Small. Wooden.   Half-buried in mist. Like it existed outside time. --- The man who opened the door was calm.   Eyes full of stories. > “You came alone?”   > “Yes,” I said. “I brought the diary.” He nodded, then handed me an envelope. **Yalini’s handwriting.**   I knew it instantly. > “She left this… one week after she stopped writing in her own diary.” I sat down. Opened it. And read. --- **Letter from Yalini:** > _“Viyan…_   > _I knew one day you’d wake up. Not from sleep. But from forgetting._   > _You always ran from your own mind. But you never realized… you were stronger than it.”_ > _“The doctors told me what you were going thro...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 18: The Call at 11:11** I stared at my phone. **11:11 PM.**   That time always made me think of wishes.   Tonight, I made one. I opened her contact.   Still saved as: *Yalini 💫* I hadn’t called this number in years.   But I hit “Call”. *Ringing…* --- My heartbeat outpaced the tone. One ring.   Two.   Three. And then —   **a click.** A voice.   But not hers. > “Hello…?” It was a man. Older. Calm.   And strangely familiar. > “Who is this?” I asked. There was a pause. > “You’re looking for Yalini… aren’t you?” I froze. > “Who are you?”   > “Where is she?” The voice softened. > “I was her doctor.” The world spun.   **Doctor?** > “She left something for you.   > If you’re calling now… she said you’re ready to hear the rest.” --- He gave me an address.   A place in the hills. > “Come tomorrow...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 17: The Truth She Hid** After remembering…   I couldn’t sleep. I needed to find her again —   **truly** this time. But all I had… was a clue.   A name.   A bookstore from our college memories. And then, behind the last shelf…   I found it. **Yalini’s diary.**   Left there. As if waiting. --- The pages were soft.   The ink faint.   But every word felt loud. **Entry – One week after Viyan disappeared:** > “He’s gone.   > I saw it in his eyes.   > He’s breathing, walking, existing…   > but Viyan is not there.” --- **Entry – The day before she left the city:** > “I thought I was his light.   > But maybe… he didn’t want to be seen.” > “I wrote a story about us.   > But in mine, he remembers me before the end.” --- The pages carried pain.   Not anger.   But love — wrapped in s...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 16: Remembering the Forgotten** I stood before the mirror. My hand trembled —   but only for a second. And then... **CRACK.**   The glass shattered. --- Silence followed.   But inside me, a storm broke loose. Memories didn’t return gently.   They **rushed in** —   like water breaking through a broken dam. --- Flashbacks.   College corridor.   Rain.   Yalini laughing as we ran for cover.   Our fingers touched — and stayed. I remembered the way she looked at me   the day before I shut her out. --- > “Why are you pushing me away, Viyan?”   I had no answer. Back then…   I was drowning in fear.   Nightmares.   Dark thoughts.   The early signs of the storm in my mind. So I let her go.   Not because I didn’t love her.   But because I didn’t trust **myself**. --- More images came...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 15: The Mirror That Cracked** Yalini’s message kept repeating in my mind: > “When the mirror breaks…   > I’ll be on the other side.” I knew where I had to go. --- My old college washroom. The mirror there…   it had cracked the day my confidence broke. I stood in front of it —   dusty, ignored, forgotten. But as I looked at my reflection…   **it moved first.** --- My hands were still.   But the reflection tilted its head. It blinked slowly — but not like me.   It smiled — the *same twisted smile* I saw when I opened the door. I wanted to run. But the voice came from *inside* the glass. > “Page 27 is ready.”   > “Read it… or lose her.” --- I pulled out the black diary. Still unread.   Still terrifying. The mirror began to **crack** —   without touch.   Without force. Just from the *weight* of the truth. Each line across the glass fel...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 14: The Yalini Chapter** It had been years. But when I saw her again…   **everything paused.** Her eyes… still carried that quiet fire.   Her voice —   like it remembered things even I had forgotten. --- She stood at the gate of my street.   I didn’t call her.   I didn’t message her. > “How did you—” She smiled. > “The diary brought me here.” I felt my heart freeze. How does **she** know about the diary? --- We sat on the same bench from our college days —   silent, like pages that knew they’d be read again. She took out a notebook. It looked exactly like **my black diary.** > “I had dreams, Viyan.   > But they weren’t mine.   > They were yours.” I wanted to ask a thousand questions.   But one escaped: > “Why now?” She looked up. > “Because your story… and mine… were written in the same ink.” --- We sat in silence. The city buzzed a...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 13: The Pages That Shouldn’t Exist** The diary he gave me —   it looked ancient.   Black leather. Torn edges.   And… it smelled like burnt paper. I opened the first page. > My name was there.   > My handwriting — but *not my memory.* --- **Entry 1:**   > “Viyan sees the other self at 2:47 AM.” That already happened. I flipped the page. **Entry 2:**   > “He will ignore the second warning.” What warning? --- I kept reading.   Each entry was a future event. Fights I hadn’t had yet.   Dreams I hadn’t dreamt yet.   Even a moment where I’d fall into a lake and nearly drown. And then… **Page 13.** A name was circled in red ink. > **Yalini.** My heart skipped.   Yalini was part of my memories…   Someone I once felt something for.   But we never spoke about it — not truly. --- Below her name, one line: > “She will ...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 12: The Door Between Real and Not** KNOCK.   Once.   Twice.   Pause. I stared at the door like it was breathing.   My heart didn’t beat. It roared. > “Don’t open the door.”   That line echoed in my mind.   But curiosity… is louder than fear. --- I stepped forward.   Each step felt like walking into water. My hand touched the handle. The moment I turned it —   **silence broke.** No wind.   No night sounds.   Just stillness. I opened the door… And saw… --- **Myself.** But it wasn’t a mirror. It was **another me** —   eyes darker, smile twisted,   as if every fear I had ever buried… wore my face. He spoke first: > “You wrote me… Viyan.”   > “You created me… every time you ran from truth.” I stumbled back. > “I’m the part of you you refuse to read.” --- Then he handed me something —   a **black n...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 11: The Voice Inside the Pages** It was a quiet afternoon.   No noise. No urgency. Just me… and my old diary. I sat down with chai, flipping through every page I had written.   Grief. Pain. Healing. Hope. And then — between **Part 4 and Part 5** —   there was a page I **don’t remember writing**. --- The handwriting was mine.   But slightly… off.   Tighter. Faster. Almost *rushed*. It said: > “He’s not done yet.   > The real storm hasn’t arrived.   > When you hear the knock…   > **don’t open the door.**” I froze. What knock? I checked the date written above.   It said: **“Dated 11 days ahead.”** A future date.   How? --- I looked around my room. Was someone playing with me?   Had I written it in my sleep? But deep down…   a voice inside whispered: > “This isn’t madness.   > This is **warning**.” -...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 10: The Dream Before Dawn** That night…   I didn’t just sleep. I *traveled*. --- In the dream, I was standing in a **white corridor**.   No doors. No windows. Just whispers on the wall. I turned around — and there he stood. **A boy. Barefoot. Same face. Same eyes.**   But he looked… smaller.   Weaker. Frightened. It was **me**.   The version that got left behind during the storm. --- He looked up and said: > “Why did you leave me there… on that bus?” My throat went dry. > “I didn’t leave you,” I whispered.   > “I just didn’t know how to carry you forward.” Tears filled his eyes.   Mine too. And then… He held my hand. --- Suddenly, the corridor cracked open.   Light spilled in. We were no longer two people.   We were **one**. --- I woke up…   at 4:23 AM. There was sweat on my forehead.   But a smile on my face. For the first ...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 9: The Letter I Never Sent** I wish I could’ve told you: How I stopped going to class. How I sat alone in that corner room for weeks, saying nothing. How I left the city with nothing but a few clothes, a notebook, and a storm that wouldn't quiet inside my chest. And how, for a moment... I wondered if the world would even notice if I disappeared. But I didn’t disappear. Because I remembered what you once said: > “Some storms come to clear the path, not block it.” --- Now, I’m learning how to live again. Not just breathe — live. To open windows. To open my heart. To fight not just for escape — but for purpose. And every time I stumble forward, I hear your voice in the quiet between my doubts. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. But if you do — Know this: I’m still here. And I’m still trying. Thank you... For believing in the version of me I hadn’t yet met. I think I’m finally becoming him. With love, 🖋️ — *Viyan*

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 8: The Rise Begins** They say rock bottom is the foundation you build on. That day…   I picked up the mirror Yalini once gave me.   I looked into it again. Not to check how broken I looked.   But to ask one question: > “What can I still become?” --- I started small. 📘 Reopened my diary.   💻 Reapplied for jobs.   🍞 Ate on time.   💬 Replied to messages.   🧍‍♂️ Started walking daily. Each step felt heavy…   But it was *mine*. --- One evening, I was at a chai shop near college.   A group of juniors walked past me. One of them pointed and said: > “That’s Viyan bro, the silent guy.”   > “He made it through.” I turned. He smiled.   And added,   > “You gave me hope, bro.” --- I walked home…   tears in my eyes.   But not from sadness. From **recognition**. For the first time, I wasn’t just *survi...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 7: Whispers Before the Leap** Some nights aren’t dark because there’s no light.   They’re dark because your mind becomes a storm. This was that night. --- I sat outside on a cement bench.   Staring at the hospital gate.   And suddenly, I felt it —   That whisper from inside me: > “What if I just walk away?”   > “What if I disappear into silence… forever?” My legs shook. My fingers went cold. --- And then… A message popped up. > **Yalini:**   > *"Where are you?"* I didn’t reply. Another message. > *“You don’t have to talk. Just share your location.”* I stared at it. And then — without thinking —   I clicked **Share Location**. --- Fifteen minutes later, she appeared. No makeup. No words.   Just **a milk packet** in one hand   and **a crumpled handwritten note** in the other. She gave it to me and walked away. --- The note said: > *"If y...

My mind was full. Overflowing. Loud. Blank. Everything at once. Appa said, “It’ll pass… We’ve seen worse.” But it didn’t feel like it would. Until she came. Yalini didn’t ask me to smile. She didn’t bring chocolate or flowers. She brought a mirror . A small round one. From her bag. She handed it to me and said: “I want you to look into this… and tell me if you still see the same boy from the bus.” I didn’t speak. But I looked. And I saw him. The boy who shook on a bus. The boy who wrote pain into pages. But also… The boy who stood up. The boy who didn’t quit. The boy who was still here. Tears dropped. She didn’t wipe them. She just sat beside me and whispered, “This time, you’re not vanishing. You’re becoming.” That night, I wrote again. Not just in the diary. But on a small sticky note. I pasted it near my mirror. “I am still here. And I’m not done.” That was the first time I chose to fight. Not for survival. But for myself . 🖋️ — Viyan

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 5: The Day Everything Collapsed** Every story has a twist. Just when I started breathing freely again…   life reminded me that healing is not a straight line. It was a regular college day.   Assignments. Cafeteria talks. A short smile from Yalini.   And then — a call. **Appa’s voice. Shaking.**   > “Viyan… Amma fainted. We’re in the hospital.” My legs went numb. That was the beginning of the storm. --- In just one week: - **Amma’s health worsened** - Our **land was taken** by debt collectors   - **My part-time job stopped** - And I…   …stopped speaking. Even Yalini noticed the silence return.   But this time — it wasn’t calm.   It was *dark*. One day, she waited outside the class.   No words. Just stared at me with worried eyes. I wanted to hug her.   I wanted to scream.   But I just said: > “I think I’m vanishing again…” --- T...

Not all love stories begin with “I love you.” Some begin… with truth. I never planned to tell her anything. Not about my life. Not about the pain I carry. Not about the day I broke on that bus. But with Yalini — it just happened. We were sitting outside the college library. The evening was quiet, like us. She looked at me and said, “I’ve never seen you talk so much with anyone else.” I smiled. Then she added, “What changed you?” And just like that… I spoke. I told her everything. About the pain. About the boy who once froze in fear on a crowded bus. About how that moment shattered something… and also lit a spark inside me. Yalini didn’t interrupt. She didn’t say, “I’m sorry.” She didn’t cry. She just listened. Like she already knew. Like my story was hers too. And when I finished, she simply said: “You’ve survived what most people can’t even imagine. You didn’t lose yourself, Viyan… You found yourself.” That day, I didn’t confess love. But I confes...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 3: The Unspoken Fight** Some fights happen with fists.   Others… happen in silence. After Yalini’s smile, something inside me softened.   But outside… things didn’t get easier. There was this one guy — **Kirthan**.   He was loud. Confident. Always the center of attention.   And he didn’t like people who didn’t clap for him. One day in class, he cracked a joke about me.   Not funny — just cruel. The class laughed. I didn’t. Neither did Yalini. But I didn’t respond.   No shouting. No scene.   I just looked at him… and held that silence. The bell rang. Everyone left.   I stayed behind, pretending to take notes. Then I heard footsteps.   Yalini. She didn’t speak. Just sat next to me.   And said one sentence: > “You don’t have to fight out loud to be brave.” I looked at her.   For the first time, I felt *seen*.   Not for how ...

 🧠 **Unknown Mind: Viyan’s Diary – Part 2: When Yalini Noticed** That bus ride changed something in me.   Not just for me… but for someone else too. Her name was **Yalini**. Not everyone saw me stand up that day.   But *she* did. Back in college, I was always the background.   I sat at the edge, ate alone, smiled rarely.   Nobody noticed. Nobody asked. But after that day… Yalini looked at me differently. Her eyes didn’t just see me.   They *searched* for something in me. She once walked past my bench, stopped… then smiled.   A small smile — but it hit me like thunder. I didn’t know if it was kindness, or something more.   All I knew was —   For the first time in years, someone’s silence matched mine. Later that evening, my mind kept spinning: > “Did she see my pain?”   > “Did she feel the change in me?”   > “Was she just being nice… or did she *understand*?” That night, I o...