Chapter 1: Isolation and Suppressed Pain

The sun cast a faint glow across the classroom as Khaled sat at the back of the room, staring out the window and trying to tune out everything around him.

He gazed through the window as if searching for an escape from a world where he felt like a stranger. The weak sunlight seeped through the glass, casting warm patches on his face, granting him a fleeting sense of calm. Yet the laughter of his classmates in the background shattered that peace, constantly reminding him that he was different, that he was alone in a world filled with people who didn't understand him.

Khaled felt like a misplaced piece of a puzzle, something that didn't quite belong.

"Look, it's Khaled, the cursed one!" one of his classmates shouted, drawing a wave of laughter.

"Look at him; he's always sitting alone, never talking to anyone. What a weirdo!"

"Did you know his dad died when he was young?"

"Haha, no wonder! A weird kid like him can only bring bad luck."

"Yeah, he's cursed! Don't get too close if you don't want to catch his bad luck too. Haha!"

"No surprise he's always alone. No one wants to be near him."

Each word pierced Khaled's heart like a sharp knife, though he showed no reaction. He had long learned never to display weakness before them. But inside, he was boiling, hiding behind a wall of silence. The more they mocked him, the wider the gap grew between him and the world, strengthening his love for solitude, his only refuge.

After school, Khaled finally sighed in relief. Heading home was the only part of his day that brought him some comfort. No annoying voices, no ridicule-just him and his old computer in his small room.

Khaled was a 18-year-old boy, yet his sharp features and distant gaze made him seem older. His pale skin and deep-set eyes carried a faint glimmer of sorrow that he tried to hide. His dark brown hair, almost black, was slightly long and messy, as if he couldn't care less about how he looked.

Entering his dark, empty home, Khaled was met with familiar silence. Since his father's death, his mother had been the sole breadwinner, working long hours. They rarely got the chance to talk.

He dropped his school bag to the floor and headed straight to his room. This room was his entire world-a sanctuary surrounded by books and his old computer. Sitting on his worn-out chair, he powered on the machine. As the screen flickered to life, Khaled felt a small wave of comfort.

Though he seemed cold and distant, Khaled was brimming with emotions and possessed an active, vivid imagination. He was a talented writer who expressed himself through his stories, even though he struggled to articulate his feelings aloud.

Away from the judgmental eyes of others, Khaled could finally relax and indulge in his beloved hobby: writing. Through his stories, he created the perfect world he wished to live in-a world where he had real friends who supported him with kind words, where everyone respected and valued him, and where he could be the hero. In this imaginary world, Khaled embodied himself in a character named Noor.

Noor was an 18-year-old young man with symmetrical features and a charismatic presence that reflected his high self-confidence. His bronzed skin, kissed by the sun, added warmth to his appearance. His wide hazel-brown eyes radiated reassurance and kindness.

Noor's long, jet-black hair brushed his shoulders. He was strong and broad-shouldered, his toned muscles reflecting his experience in dueling and hard labor. His posture exuded dignity, standing tall with his head held high like a leader, and his ever-present smile brimmed with energy, spreading positivity to everyone around him.

Dressed simply yet neatly, Noor favored warm colors that complemented his approachable nature. He was adored by the villagers, and his steady, powerful voice inspired confidence in those who heard it. His hands bore the subtle marks of a life spent working and training-small scars and calluses that he viewed as badges of experience and courage.

Known for his devotion to his parents, Noor prioritized their well-being. He would spend hours helping them and considered their comfort his greatest responsibility.

Every week, he and his father, Tarek, embarked on a hunting trip, and today was perfect for one.

The sun filtered gently through the dense forest canopy, casting shadows over the grassy ground. Noor stood beside his father, who was intently examining deer tracks in the damp soil.

"Do you see these prints, Noor?" Tarek said in a low, confident voice. "This deer passed through here about an hour ago. Notice how the right hoof is deeper than the left? That means it was running."

Noor crouched to inspect the tracks, hanging on to every word. "How did you know it was running?"

Tarek smiled, looking at Noor. "It's simple. When a deer runs, it pushes harder with its front hooves, leaving deeper impressions. Now, look over there." He pointed to some freshly broken twigs. "You can tell they snapped recently. The deer must be close."

Excitement surged through Noor. How amazing it was! His father wasn't just a skilled hunter but seemed to speak the language of nature itself.

"So, what's next?" Noor asked, trying to steady his nerves.

"The next step is silence," Tarek said. "We move slowly, making sure our footsteps don't disturb the ground too much. The key to hunting is becoming one with your surroundings."

Moving cautiously, the pair crept through the forest. After several minutes, Tarek pointed toward a small bush. Behind it, a young deer stood, alert and poised to flee.

"Now, Noor, remember this: hunting isn't always about the kill. Sometimes, it's about observing and understanding. Look at this deer. Notice how its ears twitch and how it keeps its legs ready to bolt?"

Noor watched in silence, feeling like he was learning a profound lesson about life itself.

Turning to his father, Noor asked with curiosity, "How did you become so skilled at this?"

Tarek smiled and replied, "Hunting isn't just a skill; it's an experience. Every time you enter the forest, you learn something new. The forest is a great teacher, but it only shares its wisdom with those who are patient."

In that moment, Noor felt immense admiration for his father. He didn't just see him as a skilled hunter but as a wise teacher. "I hope I can be half the man he is someday," Noor thought to himself.

They returned home without a catch that day, but Noor carried back something far more valuable: a deeper understanding of nature and a growing admiration for his father.

When they arrived back at the house, the aroma of food wafted through the air. Noor's mother greeted them at the door with her warm, familiar smile. "Back so soon? I assume this means you didn't come empty-handed?" she teased, wiping her hands on a cloth.

Tarek laughed as he set his hunting gear down. "Not quite, my dear. But today was more of a lesson than a hunt."

Noor chimed in, "Father is the best teacher I could ever ask for. I think I learned more today than I have in months!"

"Well, if you two are going to become poets after a hunting trip, I'll need to prepare a bigger table!" the mother replied, motioning for them to come inside.

Inside the house, the table awaited them, laden with delicious dishes: fresh bread, a large pot of soup, and meat cooked with local spices that filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma. They sat around the table, exchanging grateful glances.

"Tell us, Noor, how was your day?" the mother asked as she filled a bowl of soup and handed it to him.

Noor began speaking with enthusiasm, describing how he learned to track animal trails and how his father pointed out small clues he would never have noticed on his own. His words flowed freely, while his father smiled occasionally, either confirming or correcting minor details.

"Wait, did you say you managed to get close to a deer without it running away?" the mother asked with genuine amazement, her eyes gleaming with interest.

"Yes!" Noor said proudly. "Dad said I'm improving, but I need to learn more patience."

"I believe the forest teaches us all patience, Noor," said his father as he reached for a piece of bread. "Even I'm still learning from it every day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by heartfelt laughter. The father shared a humorous story about an old hunting trip that ended with him being chased by a wild boar. The mother interrupted, laughing, "I hope you didn't teach Noor that part of the hunting craft!"

As they enjoyed their meal, the atmosphere brimmed with warmth. Noor felt that this time, despite its simplicity, was the most precious thing he had. Every bite, every laugh, and every shared glance affirmed that family was his sanctuary-the place where he could truly be himself, free of restrictions or fear.

At the end of the meal, the father sighed contentedly and patted Noor on the shoulder. "A long and tiring day, but it was wonderful. Ready for another one tomorrow?"

Noor nodded eagerly. "Of course! As long as you're with me."

The mother smiled as she began clearing the dishes. "With you two, nothing is impossible."

Leaving Noor's bright and lively household behind, we return to Khaled's dim and quiet room.

In his darkened room, Khaled sat slouched at his desk, staring at a blank page before him. Silence enveloped him, broken only by the sound of his labored breathing. Despite his attempts to escape into Noor's world, dark thoughts crept into his mind, stealing away the warmth of the imaginary refuge he had always relied on.

Noor's family was perfect. Their scene at the dinner table was brimming with love and laughter, as if taken from a world to which Khaled did not belong. As he sank deeper into the details of their evening, a pang of longing clenched his heart. He couldn't stop himself from recalling faint memories of his own family-faded recollections that refused to disappear, no matter how painful they were.

He remembered his father... how he would sit at the head of the table, laughing loudly and joking with them. His mother would serve the food, laughing along, while Khaled and his father shared conversations about his small dreams.

But that fateful night had been the breaking point.

The news came like a thunderbolt. The phone's ringing late at night was the beginning of the end. Khaled, just six years old at the time, didn't immediately understand what had happened. But he vividly remembered the look on his mother's face as she dropped the phone, her expression void of life, and her tears that wouldn't stop.

"What happened, Mama?" he had asked in a small voice, but he received no answer. Only long, silent weeping was all he heard.

On a raised scaffolding at a construction site, Khaled's father was working as usual. The sounds of machinery and hammering filled the air. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he balanced himself on the narrow wooden plank. The day was no different from any other-until bad luck struck in a single moment.

His foot slipped.

In that fleeting moment that felt like an eternity, all sounds faded, replaced by a profound silence. His body plummeted toward the ground, but his mind was elsewhere. He saw his family's faces before him, as though they were standing on the ground, waiting for him. His wife, with her gentle smile, and his little boy, who always ran toward him with open arms.

A deep sense of regret filled him. He had sacrificed so much for them, yet he never imagined it would end like this, in a fall he would not survive.

"I'm sorry..." he murmured, the only words he could manage, as he tried to hold back tears.

But gravity was faster than any apology.

Khaled opened his eyes to the sound of his own ragged breathing. He raised a hand to wipe away a tear that had slipped unnoticed.

"My father was amazing too... Noor," he whispered in a hoarse voice, as if addressing the fictional character who now felt closer to him than anyone else in his life.

But he couldn't continue. He turned off the single light in the room, letting darkness envelop him once more as he closed his eyes on memories that would never return.

Khaled grew more withdrawn with each passing year. He barely spoke to his mother, who was rarely home due to her exhausting work schedule. Khaled carried burdens he was never meant to bear.