She Chose the Losing Horse—When She Should’ve Chosen Herself”

The knock was gentle, yet Yusuf's eyes remained fixed on the cat sitting beside the trash bin, its tail curled tightly around its body, like a guardian of some ancient secret.

He whispered, a mix of hesitation and curiosity in his voice:

"Why won't you come in with me?"

He pushed the door open slowly, a faint, forced smile forming on his lips, expecting someone to appear.

But… no one was there.

He swallowed hard, tension tightening in his chest.

Then suddenly, a soft voice floated from the living room, as if the house itself had spoken his name:

"Come in, Yusuf…"

He stepped in cautiously, eyes scanning the place.

And then he saw her.

A pale woman, with long silver-gray hair cascading like moonlight, and calm, ocean-blue eyes full of quiet sadness. She sat elegantly in front of a porcelain teapot adorned with golden patterns.

The woman said softly:

"Please, sit down."

He sat with hesitation, barely touching the edge of the chair.

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him— a shadow in the form of a woman— gliding silently to place a teacup before him.

He flinched at her sudden appearance.

Then came the sound of a phone ringing, though no device could be seen. It was as if a call had started somewhere unseen.

The shadow, in a metallic phone-like voice:

"Hello. How many sugar cubes in your tea?"

Still dazed, Yusuf raised a trembling finger, signaling "one."

The pale woman watched him, her gaze soaked in memory.

She spoke gently, with sorrow beneath her words:

"You don't remember, do you? What happened to you, my son?"

Yusuf, stunned:

"Your son? Am I… your child?"

The woman:

"Yes. I found you on the street. Raised you alongside other lost children."

Yusuf:

"Was I a good child? Or a bad one?"

She smiled bitterly, her expression shifting with the weight of old pain.

"You were mischievous. Nine years old and abandoned by your parents. That pain made you wild."

Yusuf murmured, as if recalling a distant dream:

"There was a woman… with gypsy hair…"

She cut him off, voice trembling:

"Tamara…"

Her face paled further, her features tightening like someone struck.

"Where is she? I haven't seen her in so long…"

The woman closed her eyes. A dark smoke began to rise from her head— she was igniting slowly, emotionally.

"It's all your fault… you!"

Her eyes snapped open, now blood-red.

Yusuf stepped back, heart pounding.

"Please— calm down! I don't remember anything. Help me fix this!"

The smoke thinned, her eyes slowly returned to blue. She exhaled deeply.

"She loved you more than you could imagine. She sacrificed everything for you. Worked to help you enter university. And when you got in… you left her for a rich girl. I warned her. I told her you were betting on the losing horse. But she didn't listen."

He looked down, voice low:

"The boy… the teenager… is he my son?"

The woman:

"I don't know for sure. But… yes. The twins— they're hers."

Yusuf, shocked:

"I only saw one…"

Their talk of the past deepened—until a sharp memory struck him like lightning.

He stood, his face a storm of fear and determination.

"I want to show you something."

The woman, smiling faintly:

"What is it?"

He swallowed.

Suddenly, he turned into a bird— a small sparrow, circling the room in swift loops.

Then— a cat— leaping onto the couch.

And in a flash of fury, his head burst into blue fire, his teeth sharpened into fangs, his limbs elongated, claws gleaming.

The woman screamed, a voice so deep it echoed from the walls:

"I told you never to use magic on yourself! Did you drink that potion you made?!"

Terrified, he reverted to his human form.

Behind him, shadows appeared— all with glowing red eyes.

The woman sat, burying her face in her hands, crying so loudly it shook the air.

"What have you done?! Who did you bind the magic to?!"

He lowered his gaze. The shadows cried too, red tears falling as if from old radios playing grief.

Yusuf:

"I'm sorry… I don't know what I've done. But I will fix it!"

His entire body ignited—this time in red flames.

She glanced at one of the shadows. It stepped forward, holding a knife to Yusuf's throat.

The woman:

"Find the soul you sacrificed."

Yusuf:

"A man in the forest told me to seek the seer who cursed me…"

Her mouth dropped open in shock—

All the shadows followed her expression.

From the table, a tiny shadow no larger than a teacup emerged.

It picked up a sugar cube and flung it at Yusuf's face—then raised its middle finger.

The woman, her hair's flame dimming:

"You are the seer. Don't you remember? I taught you magic when you were seventeen."

Yusuf, dazed:

"Then… I'll find a way to break the curse."

The tiny shadow threw another sugar cube at his eye.

"Ouch! Stop!"

The woman:

"You can't. The curse is part of you now.

But… you can still save the one you tied the magic to."

Yusuf gently pushed the knife away, stood tall, red flame now only burning atop his head.

"I'm going to finish this journey."

He reached the door. Before opening it, her voice stopped him:

"Tell me you didn't give the potion to anyone else."

He shook his head, then stepped outside.

He looked back at the cat, then up to the window—

She was still there, watching him with her fiery hair behind the glass.

He subtly gestured to the cat:

"Don't follow me."

Noura—the clever cat—remained by the trash bin, her gaze fixed on the burning woman in the window.

And Yusuf walked to the end of the street…

Then turned into a hawk, and soared.