Still in Ancient Egypt..Right?

Chapter 1

I tiredly opened my turquoise eyes and yawned. The sound of my alarm going off filled the silent room. It was modest enough with a full sized bed, a small 4-drawer dresser, and in the corner was a desk with a window overlooking a small vegetable garden. I threw back the covers over my body, sat up and stretched my long, muscular arms over my brunette head before reaching over and hitting the OFF button. The time read 5:30 AM. Yawning, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for my morning run. As I looked in the mirror, I saw that my normally carefully styled hair was a complete mess- most likely due to the dream I just woke up from.

After I had gotten dressed in my running shorts, wife-beater tank top, and running sneakers, I plugged my headphones into my iPod and headed out the front door. As soon as I turned the device on, Headstrong by Trapt filled my ears. Taking in the cool summer morning, my run began and so did my thoughts. The sun was just making a show over the horizon, casting tall shadows across the ground.

'This is the third time this week for this dream. What is it trying to tell me?' I had always been a believer in dreams being messages from someone or something of a Higher Power. ...or at least, I think I was...

To be honest, I don't remember anything from before nine months ago. I was found wondering around the streets in rags, covered in filth. At first, I didn't even understand anything anyone said. It was all incomprehensible. Eventually, I was persuaded to follow a police officer into his car and was then taken to his police station. By the time we had arrived, I was understanding the language I came to know as English. Once there, I was fingerprinted and had to do all these different types of tests that I was still too dazed to understand what was going on. Turned out that there was no record of me anywhere in the police files. I had just simply...appeared.

The man who found me, Jared Fredrickson, took pity on me and invited me to stay with him and his family until I remembered more about who I was and, more importantly, where I came from. With no other option, I agreed and have been living with the Fredrickson family ever since.

I came around the corner of a coffee shop, Coffee and Cakes, and decided to clear my head with a nice cup of tea. I didn't really care for coffee, but I enjoyed the smell that wafted through the store. I walked into the shop and was met with a familiar greeting.

"I wondered if you would be coming in today, Asim," the aging shop-owner, Alice, smiled at me.

"Of course I'd be here. I wouldn't miss the most wonderful part of my day for the world." I smiled back.

Alice was a small woman, standing at only 5 foot 4 inches, with silver streaks in her hair and deep smile lines surrounding her friendly features. She wasn't particularly old, it was more of stress from losing her husband a few years ago and running a shop all on her own. As far as I was aware, she had no children of her own. Although, her niece, Maddie, came in often to lend a helping hand.

"Do you want the usual, hun?" Alice asked, already walking into the kitchen behind her.

"I think I'm going to try something new today, Alice." I turned my bright eyes to the wall above our heads that had the menu written on it. "What do you suggest I try today?"

She, too, looked up. "How about the snickerdoodle muffin I've been experimenting with? It's not just cinnamon and chocolate chips in there, I add a secret ingredient." She winked at me then turned sad. "No one wants to try it, however. They just stick to their usual orders. I just need to know if this is any good or if I need to scrap it and start over."

"I'll try it," I answered quickly, "I'll also try a caramel hot chocolate, please."

The elderly lady nodded and returned to the kitchen to prepare my order. Meanwhile, I took a seat at the bar that was just to the left of where I was standing and took in the relaxing atmosphere. Coffee and Cakes' building was quite large considering that it has been around since 1952. Thirteen solid wood tables and matching chairs dotted the floor space. The chairs had hand-made cushions on the seats, courtesy of Alice's mother who was in her late 90's. A few barstools lined the large floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated two of the walls, letting in the morning light. Sun shades were currently covering the windows, so as to not blind everyone inside by the now risen sun. The light turned the soft yellow walls a bright yellow. A large firepit was in the center of the room, with a small fire to heat the place up. Two well-worn couches sat near the fire, but not close enough to get those who sat there too uncomfortable. The counter at which I was sitting was speckled grey. Alice's father built and owned the store before he passed. Now, it is her turn. She's been the owner for many years.