Beyond the Notebook

The first wish

Dinner that night was as bustling as usual. My sisters were in high spirits, recounting their adventures of the day with exaggerated gestures and wide eyes. Yasmin, the youngest, had joined a dance class and couldn't wait to show off her new moves. Amina had spent the afternoon at a bookstore, proudly displaying a stack of new reads. Laila, the eldest of the three, was excited about her upcoming art project and the latest sketch she'd worked on.

My parents listened with their usual mixture of pride and amusement. When it was my turn, I hesitated for a moment before diving into the details of my visit to the flea market.

"I stumbled upon this really interesting stall," I began, trying to sound casual. "There was this old woman selling a vintage notebook with an inkwell and a feather pen. It seemed so unique that I decided to buy it."

My mother raised her eyebrow, intrigued. "A vintage notebook? Why did you get it?"

I smiled, trying to convey my excitement. "She told me it was a 'dream book.' Apparently, whatever you write in it will come true. I know it sounds a bit far-fetched, but I was curious and decided to give it a try."

My father looked up from his plate, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "A dream book? Are you saying you actually bought it?"

I nodded, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yes, I bought it. It was only three euros."

"And what did you write in it?" my father asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and doubt.

I hesitated, then said, "Actually, I didn't write anything yet."

My mother gave me a concerned look. "Nora, you need to focus on finding a job and a husband, not on buying some old book with fanciful ideas. There are more practical things to worry about."

I felt a pang of disappointment but tried to keep my voice steady. "I know, Mom. It's just a bit of fun. I thought it might be interesting."

My father's expression softened slightly. "I understand you want to have some fun, but don't let these distractions keep you from what's important. Your career and future are what really matter."

I nodded, feeling a bit disheartened but not wanting to argue. "I'll keep that in mind."

The conversation shifted as my family became more engrossed in their own stories. I excused myself and retreated to my room, the warmth of the evening fading into the quiet of the night.

I climbed the stairs slowly, my mind still buzzing with the day's events. I was eager to see if the notebook would live up to its promise. I entered my room, closed the door, and took a deep breath. There was something almost ceremonious about this moment.

Sitting at my desk, I carefully placed the inkwell and feather pen beside the worn leather notebook. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of my desk lamp, casting long shadows that made everything seem more magical. I reached for the feather pen, feeling its delicate texture between my fingers, and unscrewed the top of the inkwell.

The ink was a deep, rich blue, and it seemed to shimmer in the light. I dipped the pen into the ink, watching it soak up the color. Taking a deep breath, I opened the notebook to the first blank page. The emptiness of the page felt like a blank canvas, full of potential.

With a mixture of excitement and nervousness, I began to write. The words flowed smoothly, as if guided by an unseen hand.

"I dream of meeting Zac Efron and being able to tell him that he was one of my inspirations, that he will always be a model for me, and that he will forever remain my celebrity crush since I was little."

As I finished writing, I felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. It was as if I had shared a secret with the universe. I closed the notebook gently, placed the feather pen back in the inkwell, and set everything neatly on my desk.

Before heading to bed, I decided to call Carmen. I needed to share the day's events with her and see what she thought about the dream book.

The phone rang a few times before Carmen picked up. Her voice was warm and familiar, instantly comforting. "Hey, Nora! What's up?"

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Hey, Carmen. You won't believe what happened today."

I proceeded to recount the day's events, from the flea market and the mysterious old woman to the peculiar notebook and my written dream. Carmen listened intently, her reactions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"A dream book, huh?" she said after I finished. "That sounds like something out of a fairy tale. But if it makes you happy, I say go for it! Just make sure you keep your expectations realistic."

"I know, it sounds a bit out there," I admitted, "but it's fun to think about. And who knows? Maybe something will come of it."

"Well, if anyone deserves a bit of magic in their life, it's you," Carmen said with a supportive tone. "I'll keep my fingers crossed for you."

"Thanks, Carmen. I'll keep you posted on what happens."

We chatted a little more before saying our goodbyes. I hung up the phone, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. The day had been full of unexpected twists, and I couldn't wait to see where this new adventure would lead.

As I climbed into bed, I glanced at the notebook sitting on my desk. The dream book was still there, waiting. I pulled the covers up and turned off the light, letting the gentle hum of the city outside lull me to sleep.

Before drifting off, I couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something truly magical. With that thought in my mind, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to dream, eager to see what the future might hold.