Chapter 5: Fractured Truths

Chapter 5: Fractured Truths

Rick sat in his dorm room, staring at the passenger list on his laptop. His name was there, clear as day: **Rick Sharma**.

"This can't be real," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I was never on that train."

But the evidence was staring him in the face, and the whispers from his nightmares—"You're already here"—echoed in his mind. He needed to prove it was a mistake.

First, he checked his phone's location history. If he could show he was somewhere else at the time of the accident, that would settle it.

But as he scrolled through the data, his heart sank.

There was a gap—a blank space in his location history at the exact time of the train crash. It was as if his phone had stopped tracking him for those crucial hours.

"No, no, no," Rick whispered, his hands trembling. "This has to be a glitch."

Next, he decided to ask a classmate. Maybe someone could vouch for his whereabouts that day. He approached Arjun, a guy from his economics class, during a break.

"Hey, Arjun," Rick said, trying to sound casual. "Do you remember where I was on the day of the train accident? I think I was in class, but I'm not sure."

Arjun frowned, scratching his head. "Uh… I think you were in class? Or maybe you left early? Honestly, I don't remember clearly."

Rick's stomach churned. "You don't remember? At all?"

Arjun shrugged. "Sorry, man. It was a while ago."

Rick's paranoia grew. He checked his bank transactions next, hoping to find proof of his activities that day—a cafe visit, a bus ticket, anything.

But there was nothing. No transactions, no purchases, no evidence that he had even existed that day.

It was as if he had disappeared.

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Desperate for answers, Rick began digging deeper. He spent hours online, searching for any information about the train accident. That's when he stumbled upon a forum post mentioning an eyewitness—a railway worker who had seen the train before the crash.

Rick's heart raced as he tracked down the man's contact information. The next day, he took a bus to the outskirts of the city, where the railway worker lived.

The man was old, his face lined with wrinkles and his eyes clouded with something Rick couldn't quite place—fear, maybe, or regret.

"I don't talk to reporters," the man said gruffly when Rick introduced himself.

"I'm not a reporter," Rick replied. "I'm… I'm just trying to understand what happened. I think I might have been on that train."

The man's eyes narrowed. He studied Rick for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. Come in."

Inside the small, dimly lit house, the man sat down heavily in a chair. Rick remained standing, his nerves on edge.

"What do you want to know?" the man asked.

"You saw the train before it crashed," Rick said. "Did you see… me? Was I on it?"

The man hesitated, his gaze distant. "I saw you," he said finally. "You were on the train. But… you weren't alone."

Rick's breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean?"

The man leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You were arguing with someone. Someone who looked… just like you."

Rick felt the room spin. "What are you talking about? Another version of me?"

The man shook his head. "I don't know what I saw. But it wasn't natural. That train… it wasn't right. None of it was right."

Rick's mind raced. *Another version of me?* The idea was insane, but it fit with the gaps in his memory, the missing evidence, the whispers in his nightmares.

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Rick returned to his dorm that night, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He couldn't shake the railway worker's words. *Another version of me. Arguing with myself. What does that even mean?*

As he sat on his bed, his phone buzzed. It was an anonymous text.

**Unknown Number**: *You need to see this.*

Attached was a video file. Rick's hands shook as he tapped to open it.

The footage was grainy, clearly from a CCTV camera. It showed the train station platform, crowded with people. The timestamp in the corner read minutes before the crash.

Rick's heart stopped as he saw himself—clear as day—boarding the train.

He watched in horror as his doppelgänger turned to the camera, his face twisted in anger, and mouthed something Rick couldn't hear. Then the figure disappeared into the train, just as the doors closed.

The video ended abruptly, leaving Rick staring at his phone in stunned silence.

"No," he whispered. "This… this can't be real."

But deep down, he knew it was.

To be continued...