00.00 Biri Sizi Dusunuyor - N. G. Kabal File

There’s a hairpin under your pillow. Pink.

"Ben." That was the last night Elif slept with the lights off. And the first night she understood: sometimes, the person thinking about you isn’t a stalker, or a ghost, or a lover.

They started coming from inside.

Someone is thinking of you.

Elif frowned. A prank? A wrong number? A new dating app feature? She didn’t swipe right on anything that required her real number. She locked the screen and finished her water.

Elif changed her phone number. She bought a camera for the hallway. She told the police, who shrugged and said, "Probably an ex. Block and ignore."

"Birisi sizi düşünüyor."

She looked up. Her reflection smiled—a full second before she did.

Her stomach turned cold. She walked slowly to her bedroom, lifted the pillow. A small, pink, plastic hairpin—one she’d lost three months ago—lay on the gray bedsheet.

She was halfway through a glass of cold water, standing by the kitchen window in the dark. The city outside was a smear of amber lights and distant sirens. Her phone buzzed once—a sharp, clean vibration against the marble counter. 00.00 Biri Sizi Dusunuyor - N. G. Kabal

"Biri sizi düşünüyor."

And then the reflection spoke again, softly, as if sharing a secret:

She lived alone. The door was locked. The windows were shut. There’s a hairpin under your pillow

The messages continued every midnight. Each one more intimate than the last. "Bugün mavi kazak giydiniz." (You wore the blue sweater today.) "Sol ayağınızı sağ ayakkabıyla giydiniz." (You put your left foot into the right shoe.) "Komşunuzun kedisi öldü. Üzüldünüz ama ağlamadınız." (Your neighbor’s cat died. You were sad, but you didn’t cry.)