Has anyone ever seen a lonely person?
People who have no one…
Often become so used to being alone—
That they begin to fear even their own shadow.
They get startled by the sound of their own footsteps—
As if someone is always behind them.
Something similar was happening with Feroz Khan.
A 17-year-old boy.
Running through the dark streets—
Trying to save himself from someone chasing him.
But no matter how fast he ran—
It felt like it was never enough.
The faster he moved—
The louder the footsteps behind him became.
Step by step.
Closer.
Harsher.
Unavoidable.
It felt like the person following him—
Was just about to catch him.
At last—
Exhaustion took over.
His body gave up.
His breathing broke.
And he stopped running.
He was ready.
Ready to face whoever was behind him.
Ready to surrender.
But when he turned—
There was no one.
Empty road.
Silent night.
No presence at all.
Feroz froze.
"…what?"
Was it an illusion?
A trick of the mind?
Or something else?
He stood there for a moment—
Trying to understand what just happened.
And slowly—
The truth began to settle in.
There was no one chasing him.
It was him.
The footsteps…
Were his own.
Feroz Khan stood still.
Confused.
Shaken.
Silent.
But deeper than confusion—
Something else grew inside him.
Questions.
How long will he run from himself?
How long will he live with this fear?
How long will he stay trapped in these dreams?
How long…?
Questions without answers.
But somewhere inside him—
A promise formed.
Unspoken.
Unbreakable.
He would find the truth.
About his past.
About himself.
About everything.
The wound on his foot burned again—
Pulling him back to reality.
He exhaled slowly.
And began walking again.
He needed medicine.
He needed survival.
Maybe—
He could find something to heal his body.
But he already knew—
There was no medicine for the wounds life had given him.
Still…
He walked.
Hopeful.
Quiet.
Unbroken.
Because deep down—
He believed one thing.
One day…
He would know the truth.