'Beep', 'beep', 'beep'.
The air was filled with the scent of antiseptic and the low beeping sound of hospital machines when Farid opened his eyes for the first time since he had the accident.
His head hurt with a severe, ache-like sensation radiating up from the back of his neck, as if every part of him had been smashed—pretty much like he had been hit by a truck, which was not far from what actually happened because he had, after all, been hit by a car.
The light bulbs above them made a gentle buzzing sort of sound and made the room light, but in a cold, unprofitable manner.
The first thing he saw was his mother's face, covered in tears. Her eyes were red but full of relief as she held on to his hand firmly.
"Farid, oh, my baby, you're awake!" She cried as she hugged him hard, making his wounded ribs ache.
He flinched at the pain, but he did not pull back. Her warm embrace comforted him, bringing him back from the cold, dark, empty space still lingering in his mind.
The doctors came a little later, their white coats clean and they spoke in a calm professional way. They checked his pulse, pointed a light into his eyes, and asked him his name, the date, and what he remembered.
Farid replied as well as he could, but his thoughts were unclear, like he was trying to solve a puzzle with half of the pieces missing.
When he mentioned the voice he heard in the darkness—while he was unconscious, the one that had mentioned a curse, the doctors looked at one another and wrote it off as a delusion, something that occurs to individuals when they are in a coma.
"It's normal," Dr. Patel said, adjusting his glasses. "Your brain was processing trauma. Dreams may feel very real in that state."
Farid nodded his head, but he couldn't be certain. The voice had been too clear and deliberate. 'You are blessed, and you're going to live the hardest life.'
The words still echoed in his mind, cold and solid, like a stone falling into a calm pond. He said nothing about it to his mother. She was worried enough as it was.
A month went by, and Farid was once again in his tiny city apartment, but life was more like a puzzle.
His mother made sure she never left his side all the time, always ready to cook him something: his favorite dish of spiced lamb stew and flatbread or just dropping by to see how he was every hour.
His friends stopped by, laughing and making jokes, but Farid was distant, as though he was watching their existence on the opposite side of a window.
School had resumed again, bringing the usual exhausting classes with it, homework, and dodging bullies in the hallways.
Farid was average in every way. Average grades, average looks, average dreams of maybe one day working as a graphic designer. He wasn't the brilliant kid, and he was okay with that. Or at least was, until the day the world decided to remind him of the curse.
It was a Thursday afternoon with a dark gray sky and the air smelled of rain. Farid was hanging around in the school courtyard after class, chatting with his buddy Ansel, a skinny kid with a wild mane of curls and a passion for conspiracy theories.
Ansel was in the midst of a rant about the surveillance state when the ground shook under their feet.
At first, Farid thought it was his imagination, or maybe a trick of his still-healing body. But then there was a shaking much more strong, a low rumble that grew into a deafening roar.
The brick walls of the school shook, and before Farid could even think of what was happening, the entire building fell down in a big cloud of dust and rubble.
High screams echoed through the air as students and teachers scrambled for cover.
Farid remained where he was, his heart pounding as a chunk of ceiling came flying fast towards him.
Time seemed to rush, and all that Farid saw was the flying ruins of the Collapse and the fear of death. Then he heard that voice in his head again, creeping into his mind like smoke.
"May I take your place?"
The words were cold, intentional, and filled with something wicked. Farid's lips were dry, and his body was caught beneath a piece of concrete. Fire flowed through his chest, and he could barely gasp for air.
Fear overwhelmed him, and without regard for the consequences, he screamed, "Okay!"
He was suddenly surrounded by darkness.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the courtyard, unharmed. The school stood in the distance, looking normal, like nothing had gone wrong. Ansel was next to him, tapping his back. "Yo, Farid, why were you just standing there like a zombie? You alright?"
Farid blinked, feeling shocked. Everything appeared normal, the gray sky remained, and students still walked about like every normal day. He touched his chest, expecting pain, but there was none. "What… what happened?" he stuttered.
Ansel raised an eyebrow. "Uh, we were talking about drones, and you zoned out. Sure you okay? You've been behaving weird since the accident."
Farid shook his head, trying to understand the situation. Was it a hallucination? A daydream? But it felt so real—the concrete against his skin, the strange voice in his mind. He looked across at the school building, expecting it to fall down once again, but it stood firm.
Farid could not sleep that night. He lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling of his room, thinking about the words of the creepy voice in his head. ''You are cursed''. Farid wondered what it meant and why the world resumed as if nothing had happened after he somehow agreed to let the voice take his place.
The following day, he tried to act normal. He went to school, at through his classes as usual, and acted like everything was fine. But he still felt uneasy.
Ansel saw that something was off with him and took him to their usual diner in town after school, a casual spot where they often hung out.
"Alright, start talking," Ansel shoved a fry into his mouth. "You've been acting like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?"
Farid paused. Ansel was his best friend, but how could he explain something so confusing to him? Finally, he took a deep breath and told him everything.
The strange voice he heard while he was in a coma, the school collapsing, and the strange reset. Ansel listened, his eyes getting narrower with curiosity.
"Dude," Ansel said after Farid finished, "That's some crazy stuff. So you're telling me you died, made a deal with some weird freaky voice, and then... what? Time went backwards?"
"I don't know," Farid said, poking at his burger. "Maybe I'm going crazy.".
Ansel leaned closer and whispered like he was sharing a secret. "Or maybe you're not crazy. Think about it this way. You said the voice mentioned a curse, right? What if this is like some kind of old magic or something? Like you're the chosen one in a fantasy novel."
Farid snorted. "I'm not a chosen one. I'm just some dude who got run over.".
"Sure, but you didn't die," said Ansel. "And now you're having weird visions and hearing creepy voices. That's not right, man. You need to find out what's going on with this curse.".
Farid wished he could just forget about it, but Ansel's words kept replaying in his head. The voice he heard didn't feel like a dream. It felt too clear, too purposeful. And was the collapse of the school also real? Or his mind was just messing with him.
For the next few days, Farid tried to get back to normal. He went to school, helped his mom with chores, and tried not to think about the voice. But strange things started happening. At first, they were small but hard to ignore.
His phone would glitch, showing creepy messages like "You cannot escape" before rebooting. He'd see shadows moving from the corner of his eye, but they'd vanish when he looked. At night, he had dreams of darkness, with the voice promising him pain and suffering.
One night, Farid was walking home from the library when the air felt strange and the streetlights flickered. Farid felt a chill and quickened his pace.
Then he heard it. A deep, scary growl from the alley to his right. He froze, his heart pounding, as glowing eyes appeared in the shadows.
The creature came out of the darkness, and Farid's heart almost stopped in fear.
A massive dragon stood before him, covered in shiny, rainbow-coloured scales that sparkled like black, polished wood. It had wings which were tucked behind it, and a powerful tail that smashed the pavement, breaking it into pieces.
Farid could not believe his eyes. A real dragon, like something from a fantasy novel, was staring right at him.
"You can't get away from me," the dragon growled, this time its voice was real and not just in Farid's head. Its mouth opened wide to yawn, showing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. "You made a deal with me. Your life belongs to me now."
Farid's legs reacted before he could even think. He started running immediately and the earth rumbled with the dragon's roar behind him. Farid's heart was racing, his breath burning but he kept running fast.
The Curse was real, the voice was real, and now a dragon was chasing him through the streets of the city.
He thought about Ansel's words while he ran:
This is where Farid's story begins.