He knocked on the door softly, his eyes still fixed on the cat sitting beside the trash bin, its tail curled around its body like it was guarding some ancient secret.
Yousef whispered, his voice a mix of tension and curiosity:
"Why won't you come in with me?"
He slowly opened the door, a faint, forced smile on his face, expecting someone to appear. But… there was no one behind it.
He swallowed hard, a tightness in his chest.
Suddenly, a gentle voice floated from the living room, as if the room itself was breathing his name:
"Come in, Yousef…"
He stepped inside hesitantly, his eyes scanning the place.
And then… he saw her.
A pale woman, with wavy gray hair like threads of moonlight, and blue eyes brimming with calm and longing. She sat gracefully before a porcelain teapot trimmed in gold.
The woman said:
"Please, have a seat."
He sat cautiously, barely letting himself touch the edge of the chair.
As soon as he settled, a shadow in the shape of a woman slipped silently behind him, placing a cup of tea before him. The eerie quiet of her presence made his skin crawl.
A phone rang—though no phone was in sight—its sound sudden and intrusive, like a call starting from nowhere.
The shadow, in a metallic, telephone-like voice:
"Hello, how many sugar cubes in your tea?"
Startled, Yousef raised a trembling finger, indicating one, while the woman watched him with eyes full of memories.
The woman, in a warm tone laced with deep sorrow:
"Don't you remember? What happened to you, my boy?"
Yousef, stunned:
"My boy? Am… I your son?"
The woman:
"Yes… I took you in from the street, raised you along with other lost children."
Yousef:
"Was I a good child? Or a bad one?"
She smiled bitterly, her features shifting as the memory took shape.
"You were mischievous… nine years old, abandoned by your family. That left you carrying a pain no child should bear."
Yousef's voice came as if from another place:
"There was a woman… with gypsy hair…"
Her voice trembled as she interrupted:
"Tamara…"
Her face drained of color, her expression collapsing like someone struck by an invisible blade.
"Where is she? I haven't seen her in so long."
The woman closed her eyes, and dark smoke began to curl from her head, as if she were slowly burning.
"It's all because of you… YOU!"
Her eyes snapped open—now the color of blood.
Yousef stepped back, trembling.
"Calm down… please! I don't remember anything. Help me fix it!"
The smoke began to fade, her eyes returning to blue. She took a deep breath.
"She loved you… more than you could imagine. She sacrificed for you, worked to get you a place at the university. But… when you got in, you left her for the daughter of a wealthy man. You broke her."
Silence, then in a hushed voice:
"The boy… the teenager—was he my son?"
"I'm not certain… but yes, the twins… they were her children."
Yousef stared at her in shock:
"I only saw one of them…"
They spoke of the past until a buried curse stirred in his mind.
He stood, his face caught between fear and resolve.
"I want to show you something…"
The woman smiled faintly:
"What is it?"
He swallowed, then suddenly transformed into a bird, spiraling through the room, then into a cat, leaping onto the sofa. In a flash of anger, her head burst into blue flames, her teeth sharpening into fangs, and his nails lengthened like those of a beast.
She screamed, her voice deep and resonant as if the entire room spoke:
"Didn't I tell you never to use magic on yourself?! You drank from the potion I made?!"
Terrified, he shifted back into his human form. Behind him, multiple shadows emerged, all with glowing red eyes. The woman sat down, burying her face in her hands, her sobs shaking the walls.
"What have you done?! Who did you bind the magic cord to?!"
He lowered his head, watching the shadows weep crimson tears, their cries echoing like a voice from an old speaker.
"I'm sorry… I don't know what I've done. But I'll fix it!"
His entire body ignited, this time with red flames.
She looked at one of the shadows, which drew a knife and pressed it to its own throat.
"Find the soul you sacrificed."
"A man in the forest told me to find the sorcerer who cursed me…"
Her eyes widened in shock—so did all the shadows'.
From beneath the table, a tiny shadow, no larger than a teacup, emerged, picked up a sugar cube, and hurled it at Yousef's face, flipping him off.
The woman's hair flames dimmed:
"You are the sorcerer… Don't you remember? I taught you magic when you were seventeen."
Yousef, voice flat:
"Then… I'll find a way to break the curse."
But the tiny shadow threw another sugar cube, hitting him in the eye.
"Ow! Stop!"
"You can't… The curse is part of you now. But you can save the one you bound the magic cord to."
He brushed the knife away with ease, looked at them with steady resolve, and the flames covering him subsided until only his head remained aflame.
"I will continue my journey."
He reached the door, and before opening it, heard the woman's voice:
"Tell me… you didn't give the potion to anyone, did you?"
He shook his head. He stepped out and closed the door behind him.
He glanced at the cat, then at the window… the woman was still there, her hair burning, watching him through the glass.
He subtly pointed at the cat:
"Don't follow me…"
Noura—the clever cat—stayed beside the trash bin, silently watching the burning-haired woman like a quiet prayer.
As for Yousef, he walked to the end of the street, transformed into a falcon… and flew away.