Alexandria, Egypt, April 17, 1974, 12:00 am.
A breezy spring night. The city was quiet, with silver diffuse moonlight covering a hundred-year-old mansion on the Mediterranean sea coast owned by the Abaza family generation after generation. That night the entire house was a block of darkness except for one room with dim lights and heavy cigar smoke. The room was enormous with walls covered in books line after line and many certificates and prizes, all with the same name and title.
The novelist Ramzi Abaza.
Tons of pictures all over the walls of the room with one person in common. One man throughout the years from his late twenties till his mid-sixties; had light blue hooded eyes with an intense yet warm look. Ramzi was sitting on a brown leather carver chair next to an opened balcony door, a cigar half-smoked, and a glass of water on the table next to him.
Shaking his legs roughly as he stared at the door intensely. His eyes shifted from the door to the clock next to it. Before it hit midnight, he stood up and opened a safe embedded behind the massive row of books next to the balcony from the right.
Ramzi opened the heavy door of the safe and it revealed an ancient book with unique symbols on its dark-brown leather cover. He grabbed the book slowly and went back to his chair. He left the book on the table next to him and inhaled the thick smoke of the cigar.
Ramzi looked intimidated, yet his body was moving rather fast, racing the clock before it struck midnight. He flipped the pages until he reached page number six hundred sixty-six. Ramzi took another deep breath and then read it aloud. He looked at the clock and then held the glass. The ground vibrated from below and the lights flickered rapidly.
Beads of sweat covered his forehead as the white-colored door with engraved flowers changed along with the vibrations into a bigger one painted brown with hieroglyphics engraved all over it. The vibration faded away; Ramzi got up, leaving the book on the table, and then went to the door to open it.
On the other side was an unfamiliar room that had its unique vibe. The door opened to a metal railing and stairs. He looked down and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a burgundy couch with a coffee mug between his fingers. He looked at Ramzi and smiled. "Hello old friend, are you ready to pay your dues?" Pulse beating in his ears, blocking out any other sound. Ramzi could not talk. His fear of what would happen to him left him completely paralyzed.
...
Alexandria, Egypt, December 17, 2009.
Deep breaths were taken; annoying thoughts crawled back to her. Captivated, grounded, and trapped in a terrible play. Asking herself every day why she couldn't just disappear. A daydream where she could leave everything behind and simply vanish. With every day passing, an unreasonable aching feeling crawled into her soul slowly, leading her to lose all sense of reality.
Nadine finds herself dragged into these dreams that feels more real and believable than her own life. For the past eight years, one dream was a regular visitor. She couldn't recall it fully, yet she vividly remembered how it felt. She sighed and looked at the ceiling, defeated. The daily yearning began. It was towards something, or rather someone she does not know or remember.
Or yet to remember.
A new song played into her ears. Emotional lyrics and a singer's voice right from heavens; clear and dominant yet soft and heartwarming. She knew every word and memorized every sound in it. The song had a spark within her soul.
It was the starter engine of her weird dream. The beginning of her escape.
She discovered the song seven years ago. The only one ever created by that singer's angelic voice. The music industry and fans went insane, wanting to know the identity of its creator yet no luck. Even after long seven years, the identity of the famous unknown singer was still unsolved.
His deep and calming voice always put Nadine on cloud nine. His voice felt familiar and close to her heart. Every time she feels somehow carried away from her body into a magical light one. Feeling her soul floating through the air. Alive and free.
Feels real, too real.
The realism of her feelings got to her, scaring her to the core. She opened her eyes swiftly, confirming what she feared. Floating in the air and right above her body. She blinked and watched herself closely, looked foreign and plastic.
Nadine moved away and reached the floor to stand. Walked toward the mirror, she didn't see her reflection but a golden halo inside the mirror shined before her. She felt a powerful urge to touch it, gazing at her hand, slowly reached to touch the halo, and feeling attached to whatever was behind.
A memory, familiar and safe, like taking the first step on memory lane. The so-called dream always stopped at this moment; with her about to touch the mirror and never knew what was behind. Yet this time was different. It felt real and not a dream anymore.
The golden halo flickered when she touched it and quickly spread all over. She looked back at her body and saw the halo slowly covering and swallowing it whole.