OTHERS: Five elements

CHAPTER 4.5: EARTH

21 September 2032, 11:45 PM

It was nearly midnight. I lay down on my mattress and stared at the ceiling. My body was tired, but my mind kept spinning—today's encounter with Mark, the well-earned pay, and my family's smiles. Sleep eventually took me—not gently, but like a storm pulling me under. 

I stood in the middle of a vast desert. Sand stretched in every direction, glowing silver under a black sun. The air was still, too still. My feet sank into the dunes, but I didn't feel their heat. Ahead, a massive doorway rose from the earth. Ancient and cracked, covered in hieroglyphs I couldn't understand. I opened the door and saw myself. But I looked different. My skin was dark and cracked, almost stone-like. Across my body ran thin veins glowing with fiery red blood, like flames beneath the surface. The moment I opened the door, another version of me seized me—and dragged me inside.

My eyes shot open. I was drenched in sweat, gasping for air like I'd been pulled from the bottom of the Nile. The room was dark, save for the blinking light from the broken TV in the corner. Then I heard it. A voice. 

- "Accept it..." 

I sat up, grabbing my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes like fireworks made of glass. I clutched my skull, biting down on my knuckles to stop from crying out. I stumbled out of bed, careful not to wake my brother, and crept toward the door. The apartment was silent. Only the fridge hummed softly in the kitchen. I unlocked the door and stepped into the night air. 

- "You aren't a human anymore..." said the voice.

- "Shut up," I whispered.

- "You will be free."

My knees buckled. Then I heard the door creak behind me.

- "Mama?" I said before turning, my voice cracked.

- "Hibatullah," she said, voice trembling. "Your eyes..."

- "They're not mine. They're changing." I looked away, shielding my face.

She stepped closer. I backed away.

- "No," I said, "stay back. Please."

- "What is happening to you?"

- "It's in my head. A voice. Like it's inside me—trying to take me. Mama, it's too loud. I can't— I can't be this."

When I finally looked up, she gasped. My eyes were glowing red, blood running down from them.

- "I'm a monster," I said. 

She knelt before me, cupping my face with trembling hands. Her palms were warm.

- "You are not a monster," she whispered. "You are my son."

- "I'm changing."

- "Then fight it."

- "I don't think I can."

- "You've worked every day for us. You carried bags of cement, mowed fields, and never once gave up. If anyone can fight, it's you."

I sobbed into her arms, shaking with the weight of it all. 

- "It's in my blood, mama. I feel it crawling under my skin. Like it's trying to take me over."

She held me tighter, whispering a prayer beneath her breath. 

- "May Allah, give my son strength. Let his soul stay with us. Let his heart be stronger than the voice."

While she prayed, I tried to focus on anything but the voice inside me. I thought of my brother's smile, my sister's hope, and my mother's quiet strength. I thought of myself as the foundation holding our family together. I thought of their love. And I thought of the pencil drawing tucked beneath my pillow. And the voice began to fade. The pressure behind my eyes lessened. My breath slowed. 

- "I'm here," I whispered. "I'm still here."

She kissed my forehead and wiped the sweat from my face.

- "Come," she said gently. "I'll get you something for the pain."

She handed me a pill and glass of water. I swallowed it, still shaking.

- "You'll be okay," she said softly, brushing my hair with her fingers. "You're stronger than you think."

I nodded. But in truth, I didn't know what I was anymore. I went back to my mattress and lay down, pulling the thin blanket over me. My head was still pounding, but the voice was silent now.  The sketch of Mark still sat under my pillow. I pulled it out. His smile, captured in graphite, somehow still calmed me. I wasn't sure what was happening to me. What I was becoming. Or maybe I was denying it. Deep down there was a thought that I'm an Other now. But if I still had this—still had love, still had family, still had kindness—maybe I could stay human, even while changing. And with that thought, I closed my eyes and finally drifted into a sleep.