The girls gathered in Prajwal's living room the next day. The air was filled with tension and curiosity. Prajwal placed the old diary gently on the table. The leather was cracked, the pages yellowed. It felt like holding history.
"Okay," she said, looking around. "Let's find out what really happened to Niyati Sharma."
Everyone leaned in closer as Swara carefully opened the first page.
"This is the diary of Niyati Sharma, Class 9-A, Green Mountain High School," Swara read aloud. The handwriting was neat, but something about it felt heavy—like pain behind each word.
As she flipped through the pages, the girls learned that Niyati had been a bright student—smart, friendly, always helping others. But then things started to change.
"She wrote about a boy," Rutuja said, peeking over Swara's shoulder. "A senior."
"Wait—boys were allowed back then?" Darshana asked.
"Seems like it," Anushka said. "She liked him. Trusted him."
Swarali read a part that made everyone go silent: "He told me to meet him in the basement. Said he had a surprise. But he locked the door from outside. I banged and screamed, but no one came. I thought it was a prank. Hours passed. I was scared… hungry. Then it went dark."
"That's horrible," Akshada whispered. "She died down there thinking it was her fault."
"She even wrote names," Apurva added. "Teachers who ignored her disappearance. Students who laughed it off."
Akshara leaned back. "No one even searched properly. Just labeled her as 'runaway'. That's messed up."
Swara closed the diary gently. "We should do something."
"Like what?" Srushti asked.
"Tell the truth. Let people know what really happened to Niyati Sharma," Swara replied.
"Yeah," Prajwal nodded. "She didn't deserve to be forgotten."
"Maybe we can submit this diary to the principal. Or to someone who will actually care," said Rutuja.
"And we can make a small memorial in school," suggested Akshara. "Something simple… just so people don't forget."
The girls all agreed. Even Darshana, who usually acted dramatic, stayed serious.
"I have goosebumps," Anushka admitted. "This is like some movie."
"No," said Apurva. "It's our story now too."
They sat in silence for a while, feeling the weight of what they had discovered.
Then Swarali said softly, "We gave her peace."
Prajwal smiled. "And we found our own strength."
The girls knew their lives wouldn't be the same. The basement wasn't just a scary story anymore—it was a real memory, a real truth. And they were the ones who brought it to light.
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