I was born on a winter night in January, when the full moon lit up the sky and bathed the world in its silvery glow. I grew up in my family's care, in a quiet life that seemed ordinary, yet those around me always sensed something different—something mysterious hidden behind my smile and calm presence. I was mischievous and full of energy, yet I was never touched by harm, as if a hidden force was protecting me.
I grew up living in this balance between curiosity and awareness, until the day that turned my life upside down. It was a sunny morning. I wore a red dress and stood with my classmates in the high school courtyard, waiting for the results of the first exam session. I had always been an outstanding student, consistently achieving the highest grades, which irritated a classmate named Hamza.
He began to boast in front of everyone and mocked my efforts. I couldn't hold myself back and responded to him directly. His anger flared, especially when the other students started laughing at him. He rushed toward me in rage, trying to slap me. I closed my eyes in fear, and suddenly I heard a soft but steady and confident voice:
"Don't be afraid, Rana."
I opened my eyes to see something I was not ready for: Hamza's hand was paralyzed, and he was screaming in a strange pain. I trembled and ran to the bathroom without thinking. I couldn't comprehend what had just happened, and every feeling of joy or triumph over my academic success dissolved into deep shock.
My close friend Mariam quietly distanced herself from me, as if she was afraid, and went home without saying a word. When I returned home, I felt a heavy weight on my heart, and although I had achieved the highest grades in the exam, it felt as if everything around me had collapsed. I went into my room, tried to think, but eventually surrendered to sleep.
Then came the dream… a dream I will never forget.
I was in a vast field of red flowers, their fragrance filling the air, birds singing in the sky. I was wearing a pearl-studded dress, and on my head was a crown that shimmered under the sunlight. In the distance, a knight appeared on a white horse, approaching me, looking at me with gentle eyes, and saying in a warm voice:
"I am your knight… do not be afraid, Princess Rana."
I woke up to my mother's voice calling me, but what remained in my mind was only that mysterious knight.
The next day, while I was still trying to process what had happened, shocking news arrived: Hamza had suddenly died under strange circumstances.
I screamed involuntarily: "It's my fault… it's my fault!"
But my friend Mariam's eyes, which looked at me with an expression I had never seen before, silently warned me, and she left without saying a single word.
I stood there, trying to understand: Who is this knight? Why did he appear in my dreams? And what is his connection to what happened?
Everything felt like the beginning of something bigger, more mysterious—an unknown world that I had no idea how far it would take me.
Not long after, the police knocked on our door. Mariam had told them that I had confessed, saying I was responsible. I was taken in for questioning; they searched my phone, but found nothing linking me to the victim. I returned home shattered, unable to understand how my closest friend could betray me.
That night, while I cried until I fell asleep, I opened my eyes to find a red rose beside my pillow, releasing the same scent that had filled my dream. I asked my family about it, but no one had placed it there. Terrified, I went back to my room and picked up my sketchbook, where I often drew. I sat in an eerie silence, as if floating above the clouds, until I was struck with shock: I had drawn, with perfect precision, the face of the knight who had appeared in my dream.
I had no one to confide in except Sara, my strange classmate who believed in energy, karma, and hidden dimensions. I brought her my sketchbook. She greeted me with a cold smile, and before showing her the drawing, I asked:
"What do you think about Hamza's death?"
She replied indifferently:
"Hamza was killed by his fate."
"I don't want philosophy, Sara… you know I'm being accused because of it."
"In a past life, Hamza wronged a queen, and karma punished him with a horrific death."
I didn't understand her cryptic words, but she asked to see my drawings. The moment she looked at them, her face changed in shock, yet she quickly excused herself, claiming she had to visit her grandmother, and gently but coldly asked me to leave.
I returned home confused, when suddenly a cold whisper pierced my ear:
"Rana… I cling to you like your shadow… don't be afraid."
My heart trembled. Was I going insane? Or was something truly following me? I tried to convince myself it was exhaustion, but the truth felt deeper.
That night, I wore a red dress, combed my long black hair, lined my eyes with kohl, applied oud and amber perfume, and lit a red candle. I sat and called out:
"Show yourself, shadow! I am not afraid of you! You did not kill me like you did Hamza!"
But silence ruled the room. I remained like that for hours until exhaustion overcame me, and I fell asleep in my dress and makeup.
In the dream, I found myself on a luxurious bed in a vast room. I stepped onto a balcony overlooking a lush garden with a central fountain, surrounded by white birds. On a nearby chair sat the same handsome knight, calmly drinking his coffee. He raised his eyes and said confidently: