On a cold night, after midnight, Nasser returned from work as he did every day. He entered his apartment exhausted, while the loud music filled the room, almost spilling out to the street.
This had always been his habit: silent during the day, blasting music at night to escape the pressure of work and loneliness.
Nasser, 24, had been working since he was 18 at a car manufacturing company. He lived alone, far from his family, and was their sole provider, always trying to support them, sometimes beyond his means.
His father died when he was only eight, and the case surrounding his death remained unresolved, as if the past were still chasing him.
He had a psychological condition, present since birth, but financial struggles prevented proper treatment. The illness worsened over the years, leaving him isolated—no true friends, no outings, nothing but the walls of his room and the radio that annoyed the neighbors.
In the morning, he saw car parts and machines; in the evening, only his room walls.
He slept deeply until 12:35 AM.
Suddenly… his phone rang.
He jumped in shock. Receiving calls at this hour was unusual; his phone normally rang only for his alarm.
He looked at the screen—an unknown number.
Hands trembling, he answered.
A voice on the other side said:
"Hello… Hello… Is this Nasser?"
He almost denied it, but before he could speak, the caller continued:
"I won't take much of your time, and I apologize for disturbing you at this hour. I just wanted to inform you of something important: tomorrow, you will meet someone… do not trust them. Take care of yourself."
The call ended abruptly.
Nasser froze. He didn't understand a thing. Who was this person? Why did they warn him? And how did they know he would meet someone the next day?
He spent the rest of the night wrestling with his thoughts, watching the clock tick slowly.
When the clock struck 7:00 AM, his phone rang again.
He woke quickly, a mix of fear and anticipation running through him. Was it a hallucination, or was something truly awaiting him today?
He considered staying home, avoiding work, but the voice of his manager, who had tested his patience since his first day at the factory, pushed him to go.
He took a cold shower, not out of choice but because his home had no water heater. He dressed and left for work without breakfast, carrying a strange anxiety about the day ahead.