Dreams

CHAPTER 4

The room was softly lit by the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. It was late at night, and the house was enveloped in a serene silence. Yasmin lay in bed, trying to wait for Faruk to come back from work. Despite the comfort of her blankets, she felt a slight chill in the air, a sensation that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"It's a bit chilly tonight," she murmured to herself, pulling the blanket closer.

As she closed her eyes, a faint, eerie whisper filled the room. It sounded like a woman's voice, but the words were indistinguishable. Yasmin's eyes snapped open, her heart racing. She sat up, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder.

"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

The whispering continued for a few more seconds, then abruptly stopped. Yasmin sat there, frozen in place, her pulse quickening. After a moment, she shook her head, trying to brush off the feeling of unease. She lay back down, but sleep didn't come easily.

The following night, Yasmin was at her desk, studying a book about ancient history. The room was filled with the soft glow of her desk lamp. As she read, she heard a rustling sound from the bookshelf across the room.

"Now what?" she muttered, slightly annoyed.

She looked up just in time to see several books fly off the shelves, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Yasmin jumped out of her chair, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What is going on?!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the empty room.

She rushed to the bookshelf, picking up the fallen books. Her hands trembled as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She glanced around the room, feeling a growing sense of dread.

A few nights later, after a particularly exhausting day, Yasmin finally drifted off to sleep. Her rest was restless, filled with vivid, haunting dreams. In her dreams, she saw scenes from an ancient past—bustling markets with people dressed in old-fashioned attire, stone buildings, and a sense of overwhelming familiarity.

"You must remember..." a faint, echoing voice whispered in her dream.

She woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding and the scenes from her dream still fresh in her mind.

"What was that?" she panted, clutching the sheets. "It felt so real..."

The next morning, Yasmin sat at the kitchen table, staring into her cup of tea. Faruk entered the room, immediately noticing her troubled expression.

"Good morning, Yasmin," he said gently. "You look like you didn't sleep well. Is everything alright?"

Yasmin looked up at him, her eyes still filled with the remnants of fear and confusion from the night before.

"Faruk, something strange happened last night," she said hesitantly.

Faruk sat down beside her, taking her hand in his.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I heard whispering, like a woman's voice," she began. "And then, books flew off the shelves by themselves. And the dreams... they were so vivid. I saw scenes from an ancient past, and it felt like I was living through a tragic love story."

Faruk's expression turned serious, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

"Yasmin, I believe you," he said firmly. "There are things in this world that we don't fully understand. Maybe it's related to our connection, or something else entirely. But we'll figure it out together."

Yasmin nodded, feeling slightly reassured by his words.

"Thank you, Faruk. I'm just scared. It felt so real," she admitted.

Faruk squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes with determination.

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Yasmin. I promise. You're not alone."

Another night, Yasmin found herself again in the grip of vivid dreams. This time, she saw herself in an ancient courtyard, surrounded by stone walls and lush greenery. The sense of deep longing and sadness was overwhelming.

"Find the truth..." the faint, echoing voice urged in her dream.

She woke up abruptly, her breathing heavy. She sat up in bed, her mind racing.

"What truth am I supposed to find?" she whispered to herself, feeling a chill run down her spine.

"What happened" Faruk who had just woken up by Yasmin's abrupt movement said .

"Nothing" Yasmin replied.

A few days later, Yasmin met her friend Nuhur at a cozy cafe. The sound of soft music and clinking cups created a warm atmosphere, but Yasmin couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her.

"Yasmin, you've been quiet. Is something bothering you?" Nuhur asked, concern evident in her voice.

Yasmin took a deep breath, deciding to share her experiences with her friend.

"Nuhur, I've been experiencing some strange things since the wedding," she began. "I hear whispers at night, books fly off the shelves, and I have these haunting dreams about an ancient past."

Nuhur's eyes widened in concern.

"That sounds terrifying. Have you talked to Faruk about it?" she asked.

"I have. He believes me and says we'll figure it out together, but I'm still scared. It all feels so real," Yasmin confessed.

Nuhur reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on Yasmin's.

"You're not alone, Yasmin. We'll find out what's going on. Maybe there's a logical explanation. Have you considered seeing someone about it? Like a specialist in these kinds of phenomena?" Nuhur suggested.

Yasmin nodded, feeling a bit more hopeful.

"Maybe you're right. I just needed to share it with someone. Thank you for listening, Nuhur," she said, gratitude evident in her voice.

"Of course, Yasmin. We're in this together," Nuhur assured her.

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The strange phenomena continued, and Yasmin's dreams became even more vivid and clear. Each night, she found herself in different scenes from an ancient past, with one figure becoming increasingly prominent—Faruk.

Yasmin stood in a sun-drenched courtyard surrounded by stone walls and lush greenery. The scene was vibrant and full of life. She wore a flowing dress typical of an ancient era, and her surroundings felt eerily familiar. She walked through the courtyard, her senses alive with the sights and sounds of a bustling market nearby.

She could hear the chatter of merchants and the clinking of coins as people bartered for goods. The air was thick with the scent of spices and freshly baked bread. Yasmin felt a strange sense of belonging, as if she had walked these paths many times before.

Suddenly, she saw a figure in the distance—Faruk, dressed in the traditional attire of that time. He wore a long, flowing robe, adorned with intricate patterns that shimmered in the sunlight. His face was a mix of youth and wisdom, his eyes deep and knowing. He looked different, yet the same, as if time itself couldn't alter his essence. He approached her, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and sorrow.

"Yasmin, you've come back to me," he said, his voice filled with a deep sense of relief.

Yasmin felt a rush of emotions, both foreign and familiar. She reached out to him, but as soon as their hands touched, the scene shifted.

They were now in a lively marketplace, surrounded by merchants and shoppers. Faruk guided her through the crowded streets, pointing out various stalls and ancient artifacts. Yasmin felt a strong connection to everything around her, as if she had lived this life before.

The marketplace was alive with activity. Merchants called out to potential buyers, displaying their wares with pride. Colorful fabrics fluttered in the breeze, and the aroma of exotic spices filled the air. Yasmin and Faruk weaved through the crowd, their movements fluid and natural, as if they had done this a thousand times before.

"This is where we used to come. Do you remember?" Faruk asked, his voice gentle and full of hope.

Yasmin shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know, Faruk. Everything feels so real, but I can't remember."

Faruk took her hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. "You will remember, Yasmin. You must."

The dream shifted once more, and they were now in a grand palace. Yasmin felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity and dread. She saw herself, dressed in regal attire, standing beside Faruk in front of an imposing figure—an ancient sorcerer.

The palace was magnificent, with towering columns and intricately carved walls. The floor was a mosaic of precious stones, glittering under the soft light of chandeliers. Yasmin and Faruk stood before a throne, where a figure draped in dark robes sat, his presence ominous and commanding.

"You defied the natural order, and for that, you shall suffer. Your love will be tested across centuries, and only true remembrance will break the curse," the sorcerer declared, his voice echoing through the hall.

Yasmin watched in horror as the sorcerer cast a spell, and darkness enveloped them both. She woke up with a start, her heart pounding and her body drenched in sweat.

Yasmin and Nuhur sat in their usual spot at the cafe, the comforting hum of the place doing little to ease Yasmin's troubled mind. She recounted her latest dream to Nuhur, describing the vivid scenes and the presence of Faruk.

"This is all so strange, Yasmin. I don't know what to say. Have you talked to Faruk about it?" Nuhur asked, concern etched on her face.

"No, I haven't. I don't want to worry him. But these dreams are getting clearer, and they feel so real. I need to understand what's happening," Yasmin replied, her voice shaky.

Nuhur looked thoughtful, then nodded. "Maybe we should talk to Imam Sulayman. He might be able to give us some guidance."

Yasmin and Nuhur entered the serene and tranquil mosque. The cool air and quiet surroundings offered a momentary respite from Yasmin's troubled thoughts. They found Imam Sulayman in his study, a wise and gentle man with a calming presence. He greeted them warmly, sensing their distress.

"As-salamu alaykum, my daughters. How can I help you today?" the Imam asked, his eyes kind and inviting.

"Wa alaykum as-salam, Imam. I've been having strange dreams, very vivid and haunting. They feel like memories from an ancient past, and they're becoming clearer. I don't know what to make of them," Yasmin explained, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and confusion.

Imam Sulayman listened intently, his eyes full of understanding. "Tell me more about these dreams, Yasmin."

Yasmin described her dreams in detail, explaining the scenes, the emotions, and the presence of Faruk. The Imam nodded thoughtfully as he listened, his expression grave yet sympathetic.

"These dreams may hold a deeper meaning, Yasmin. It's not uncommon for the soul to remember past lives or experiences, especially if there is something unresolved. I know someone who might be able to help you understand these visions better," the Imam said thoughtfully.

Yasmin and Nuhur exchanged hopeful glances. "Who is this person, Imam?" Nuhur asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"He is an antiquarian and a scholar of ancient histories. His name is Hakan, and he has a deep understanding of the past and its connection to the present. I believe he can help you make sense of these dreams," Imam Sulayman replied.

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Yasmin and Nuhur found themselves in a study room filled with ancient artifacts, books, and relics. The room was a treasure trove of history, with every item telling a story of a bygone era. Hakan, an elderly man with a keen, knowing gaze, greeted them warmly. His eyes sparkled with the wisdom of years spent delving into the mysteries of the past.

"Welcome, Yasmin and Nuhur. Imam Sulayman told me about your dreams. Please, sit down and tell me everything," Hakan said, his voice gentle yet authoritative.

Yasmin recounted her dreams once more, with Nuhur adding details she remembered. Hakan listened with rapt attention, nodding occasionally.

"These dreams are indeed significant, Yasmin. They may be echoes of a past life, seeking resolution in this one. We must explore these visions further to uncover the truth," Hakan said thoughtfully.

Yasmin felt a mix of fear and anticipation. "What do I need to do?"

"We will begin by delving deeper into your dreams and the history they reveal. Through this journey, we will seek to understand the connections and uncover the path to resolution," Hakan explained, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words.

Nuhur squeezed Yasmin's hand reassuringly. "We're here for you, Yasmin. We'll face this together."

Yasmin nodded, feeling a renewed sense of hope and determination. "Thank you, Hakan. I'm ready to find the truth."

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Yasmin felt a mixture of apprehension and determination as she continued her journey. With Hakan's guidance, she learned to delve deeper into her dreams, exploring the vivid scenes and emotions they presented. Each night brought new revelations and challenges, but Yasmin faced them with courage and the unwavering support of her friends, particularly Nuhur.

Yasmin sat in Hakan's study, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of candles. The air was filled with the scent of ancient parchment and aged wood. Hakan handed her a small vial filled with a fragrant oil.

"This will help you focus and remember your dreams more clearly," Hakan explained. "Apply a small amount to your temples before you sleep, and keep a journal by your bedside to record everything you remember."

Yasmin nodded, her fingers trembling slightly as she took the vial. "Thank you, Hakan. I'll do as you say."

That night, Yasmin followed Hakan's instructions. She applied the oil to her temples, its soothing scent calming her nerves. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness envelop her. Soon, she found herself in the familiar courtyard of her dreams.

This time, the scene was more detailed. She noticed the intricate patterns on the stone walls and the delicate flowers blooming in the garden. Faruk was there, as always, but his presence felt more intense, more real.

"Yasmin, you're here," Faruk said, his voice filled with relief and urgency. "We must remember."

Yasmin reached out to him, her heart pounding. "Remember what, Faruk? What am I supposed to see?"

The scene shifted abruptly, and Yasmin found herself in a grand hall, standing before the sorcerer who had cursed them. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the power emanating from him. The sorcerer spoke, his voice echoing through the hall.

"Your love will be tested across centuries. Only true remembrance will break the curse."

Yasmin woke up feeling scared, her breath coming in short gasps. She grabbed the journal by her bedside and began to write, capturing every detail she could remember. The images, the emotions, the words—they all flowed onto the pages, creating a vivid tapestry of her dream.

The next morning, Yasmin met with Hakan and Nuhur in the study. She handed Hakan the journal, her hands still shaking.

"These dreams are becoming clearer, but I still don't understand everything," Yasmin said, her voice filled with frustration and hope.

Hakan read through the journal, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the details. "These are significant, Yasmin. The curse, the sorcerer—these elements are crucial. We must delve deeper into the history and find the connections."

With Hakan's guidance, Yasmin and Nuhur began to research the history hinted at in Yasmin's dreams. They spent hours in libraries, pouring over ancient texts and manuscripts. Hakan's study became a hub of activity, filled with books, maps, and artifacts.

"Look at this," Nuhur said one afternoon, pointing to a passage in an old book. "It mentions a sorcerer who cursed a young couple for defying her. The details match your dream, Yasmin."

Yasmin leaned in, her eyes scanning the text. "This is it, Nuhur. This is the connection we've been looking for."

As Yasmin delved deeper into her research, her dreams became even more vivid. One night, she found herself in a grand palace, standing beside Faruk in front of the sorcerer. The scene was intense, filled with the weight of their history.

"You defied the natural order, and for that, you shall suffer. Your love will be tested across centuries, and only true remembrance will break the curse," the sorcerer declared, her voice echoing through the hall.

Yasmin felt the weight of his words, the depth of the curse. She turned to Faruk, her eyes filled with determination. "We will break this curse, Faruk. We will remember."

The dream shifted again, and Yasmin saw flashes of different lives, different eras. Each scene was a fragment of their past, a piece of the puzzle. She woke up with a start, her mind reeling with the intensity of the dream.

The next morning, Yasmin met with Nuhur at their favorite cafe. She recounted her latest dream, her voice filled with a mix of fear and hope.

"This is getting clearer, Nuhur. I saw more of our past lives, more of the curse. But I don't know how to break it," Yasmin said, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Nuhur listened intently, her expression serious. "We need to talk to Imam Sulayman again. He might know someone who can help us understand these dreams and the curse."

They went to the mosque and found Imam Sulayman . Yasmin recounted her latest dreams, her voice trembling with the weight of her experiences.

Imam Sulayman listened carefully, his eyes filled with concern. "This is indeed serious, Yasmin. I believe there is one more person who can help you. He is a mystic and a scholar of ancient curses. His name is Selim. He lives in a secluded part of the city, but I will arrange for you to meet him."

Yasmin and Nuhur found each other in a quiet, secluded part of the city, standing before a modest house. Selim, an elderly man with a serene and wise presence, greeted them warmly.

"Welcome, Yasmin and Nuhur. Imam Sulayman told me about your dreams. Please, come in and tell me everything," Selim said, his voice gentle yet authoritative.

Yasmin recounted her dreams once more, describing the vivid scenes, the curse, and her connection to Faruk. Selim listened with rapt attention, his expression thoughtful.