He stepped out of his house, the door so rusty it looked as if it might fall apart at any moment. His mind was crowded with thoughts crashing against each other like restless waves. He felt as if he was waiting for something… or someone… though he had no idea who it could be. Still, a strange feeling followed him—the feeling that someone was watching him, or searching for him.
He headed toward the bus that carried him every day to the factory. When he got on, he found it full of workers discussing their jobs and the struggles of daily life. Their voices mixed with the rumbling of the road.
But Nasser remained silent.
He sat there, staring ahead, the same questions repeating inside his mind.
Who is this person?
And why do I feel like something is about to happen?
About thirty minutes into the ride, a man stepped onto the bus. His appearance was different from the rest of the factory workers. He looked more like a music teacher, or someone used to a completely different kind of life.
Nasser noticed him immediately.
The man briefly glanced at the passengers before walking toward the empty seats at the front. But then he stopped. Slowly, he turned and walked toward Nasser.
"May I sit here?" the man asked calmly.
Nasser hesitated for a moment, his face turning slightly pale before answering.
"Yes… of course."
The man sat beside him, and a heavy silence settled between them.
They barely spoke during the rest of the ride, exchanging only a few simple words. Yet the silence made Nasser even more uneasy. His heart beat faster than usual.
When they arrived at the factory, workers gathered at the entrance as they always did, entering in groups.
But then Nasser noticed something shocking.
The strange man was among them.
Nasser frowned slightly.
How could someone I just met on the bus be working in the same place… in the same team?
Is this just a coincidence… or something more?
Work soon began, and the factory filled with the deafening noise of machines and the constant movement of workers. No sound was louder than the roar of the equipment.
Everyone was focused on their tasks.
Everyone except Nasser.
His body was there, but his mind remained trapped in thoughts about that man.
When break time arrived—a short moment that always seemed to pass too quickly—Nasser took out his phone.
A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.
His fingers trembled slightly as he opened it.
The message read:
"You are the target. Be careful… very careful."
The color drained from his face.
He froze in place.
He couldn't eat. He couldn't speak. A strange and invisible sense of danger suddenly surrounded him.
At that moment, the strange man approached him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You look tired," he said with a calm smile. "Since I saw you on the bus, you've seemed distracted. Is something bothering you?"
Nasser quickly locked his phone.
"No… nothing," he replied quietly. "Just work pressure."
The man nodded.
"If you're tired, you should rest."
Nasser shook his head.
"We're almost done for the day. I'll rest later… thank you."
The man smiled again.
"My name is Youssef," he said. "I'm new here. I had some problems at my previous job, so I moved to this factory. I don't know anyone here yet… except the machines."
Nasser extended his hand.
"Nice to meet you. If you need any help, I'm here."
They spoke briefly before returning to work.
But something had changed inside Nasser.
He no longer felt afraid of Youssef. Instead, a strange sense of familiarity grew within him, as if he had known the man for a long time.
When the workday ended, they took the bus together again.
This time, the silence was gone.
They talked. They laughed.
For a moment, Nasser forgot about the mysterious message and the uneasiness that had been haunting him.
Later that night, he arrived home and turned the music up loud, trying to escape his thoughts. He prepared a light meal.
Since the next day was his day off, he decided to stay awake for a while.
Eventually, around four in the morning, sleep finally overcame him.
He had convinced himself that everything that had happened was just a coincidence… or perhaps nothing more than his imagination.
Two hours later, his phone suddenly rang.
Half-asleep, he grabbed it and saw the caller's name.
It was one of his neighbors—a kind man known for his good character.
Nasser answered immediately.
The neighbor's voice was trembling.
"Stay calm… and take a deep breath before I tell you this."
There was a short silence.
Then he continued.
"Your mother… was found murdered in her house."
Nasser's heart stopped.
"And your younger brother is missing. They're still searching for him."
The phone slipped from Nasser's hand.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
It felt as if the entire world had collapsed before his eyes.
In a single day…
He had lost his mother.
And his brother.