#1 Chapter One: Stranger

It was dark, I opened my eyes, and I realized I haven't really slept that much when I saw the clock on the night stand point at 3:37am. Its not morning yet, I thought. I didn't know what to do.
Everything was so unfamiliar. I didn't recognize the place at all. I was in a room which I've never been in my life. The door creaked open as though someone was trying to get inside, but nobody came in. I looked where the sound came from and all could make out of it was a dim light coming through the door.

I looked around me trying to get some memory of where I was, flashback of some sort. There was a closet in the far corner of the room, from where I was sitting, it was open. It looked as it was mostly men's clothes, trousers and shirts with their jackets hanging on them. A middle sized black brief case was lying on the floor, it looked as someone was ready to go somewhere. There was a glass of water placed on the night stand. Also, some sort of a medicine container, and a first aid kit beside it.

That's when I realized that I was in so much pain. I was panicking about where I was that I didn't even notice the numbness I was starting to  feel. It was strange, horrifying. I tried to place my hand on the side of the bed to sit up, but I couldn't lift a finger.

My hands were sweaty, and I felt dizzy and disoriented. I tried to move my lips to get the words out but my mind wouldn't let me. All I could think of was, 'Please God, don't let me be dead'.
I waited anxiously for my mind to come back to my body when finally, I felt a tiny little sensation on my left arm. There he was. A man was standing in front of me.

He was tall, slim with kind of small shaped eyes, his skin pale white with the slightest hint of freckles, his nose was thin and well defined, he had a brown curly hair, and was missing one of his front tooth. He was middle aged. His hands were shaking, and he moved anxiously, as if he was a fugitive trying to commit his last murder.

I told myself that if I wasn't dead before, now is definitely the time and place. He was getting closer as I tried to pull away in my mind, while my body stayed still. He was no match for my 5feet4, 104 pounds body.
He was huge, I shouldn't even guess how big the man is, I thought to myself. At least not while i'm living this nightmare.

"Aren't you Safiya Yasin?" he said, his voice apologetic in a way, I guessed he felt guilty seeing how disturbed and horrified I was. I was confused. How could this monster know my name? I deliberated at that moment what to do; should I be smart and lie to him or would telling the truth be the best thing? Truth was, I was dead anyway. I was on his hit list, and now he can tick the "check" on his little note of  success "murder" record.

Still, somehow I blurted out the truth and replied : "yes,I am her. Who-who are you?" I was still frightened, at that moment he realized that he was too close for someone who didn't know him.
He began to walk a few paces back, knowing for a fact that he did scare me. Being a 15 year old girl didn't mean I was a grown up in most ways, a fact I rejected all my life -well, recent years anyway.

A few long seconds later, he started to speak in a low yet careful deliberate tone of voice. He begun to say: "I knew your mother, I'm your father's chauffeur." I begun to search my mind for what he was saying, and frankly I was having a hard time placing him. Also, whatever he said didn't make made much sense to me. He was hoping I'd recognize him, but I didn't. I had no clue. I looked at him, and he looked impatient which puzzled me more.

He went on to say: "I don't have much time, I have to take you to the airport right away".
Airport? what airport and why? my mind started looking for an answer that made sense of all this. At that very moment, I impulsively tried to sit up, suddenly my head span like 360degrees, and my legs felt like I was an eighty year old Nana who was on some sort of medication. I was about to hit the ground when I felt his hand on my shoulder again, trying to support me stand. I didn't bother sitting up, so I gave in and lay on the bed instead, with my mind still feeling there was some sort of a danger here.

I still did not have an explanation to why I was in this dark and creepy room. While I was busy with my own frustration, he was packing a small grey backpack with some women's clothes-which could't be mine because it had more red stuff than a weird 17years old valentine sucker. Still, he kept looking suspiciously in my direction every few seconds.
I wasn't going to yell or even run, sadly I didn't have the ability to do so.
Then suddenly, I remembered him.

He was one of the many unimportant people that would come to my birthday parties or my fathers many opening hotels. He had a daughter who was about my age, but unfortunately our parents were never going to risk being involved with the wrong crowd, so we never met her.

"where's my cellphone?" I asked him, while I was beginning to feel a new wave of rage when I saw him destroying a Sim-card. He ignored me, and went on to open a door to a wall which I didn't even know it was possible to move. He went inside the room with the bag in one hand and a lamp on the other.

He didn't shut the door behind him which strangely, made me feel a curious and eager to see what he was doing. I assumed that he was acting on my fathers behalf, but why wouldn't he let me talk to my father directly and save me from all the confusion?
Obviously, there was a new "situation" that was about to unfold.

Only if I knew what and why this time.
I tilted my head to the side to see if I can see what he was doing in the room, unexpectedly I saw a baby crawling towards me. I could tell that the baby was a boy. Beautiful and somehow familiar. Could he be my brother? or was I crazy enough to think that he was my own?