Noor means light.

Yes, that's the name I was given when I was born.

But...

Why are you like this?

You piece of shit!

You're disgusting.

Noor, please listen to me!

You monster!

I regret giving birth to you!

YOU SHOULD'VE NEVER BEEN BORN!

...Gasp...

The alarm clock keeps ringing.

Noor suddenly sits up in his bed; his head still hurts, and the alarm clock continues beeping.

It keeps coming back.

Noor turns off the alarm by tapping on it.

He yawns while stretching his back.

Noor looks at his calendar and realizes it's January 2nd.

"Oh! Today I have to visit my therapist."

Noor quickly brushes his teeth, takes a bath, and makes his breakfast.

While munching on the egg sandwich he just made, Noor scrolls through social media.

After finishing his breakfast, he turns on his phone, which has been off for the past three months.

But there isn't a single person who tried to contact him. Who cares?

Zero calls. Zero messages.

Noor dials a number, and after a few rings, someone picks up.

"Hello, sir! How can I help you?"

"Ah, I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Abir Ajad."

"Oh, I see, sir. Please tell me your name."

"My name is Noor."

"Just Noor?"

"Yes," Noor replies.

"Please wait a moment, sir. Your serial number is 9."

Noor says, "Thank you," and hangs up.

He gets ready and heads outside after locking his door.

He presses the button for the lift and waits.

As the lift door opens, he sees his neighbor from the 6th floor.

"Hey, bro, how you doing?"

"Good," Noor replies.

"We haven't talked since you first came here three months ago. You're literally living like a ghost, aren't you?"

Noor looks down, lost in his own thoughts; he doesn't say anything.

When the lift reaches the ground floor, Noor starts walking without saying a word.

"See you later, buddy!" the neighbor calls out from behind.

Noor raises his hand and continues walking.

Strange… I don't even know his name. He said it when we first met, but that was three months ago.

After such a long time, I've finally touched some grass. It feels weird, though.

But why are people staring at me awkwardly?

Noor realizes that he's sitting in the middle of a football field, and there's a match going on.

The players and audience stare at him, their hands on their hips, looking disappointed, like a famous meme reference.

"Oh, shit! I didn't even notice there was a live football match going on."

The referee runs over to Noor, whistling loudly, and gives him a red card.

Noor walks away, but people still stare at him, disappointed that he ruined the match.

As Noor walks past a building, he sees a little boy crying. He asks, "Why are you crying?"

Rather than answering, the kid runs away, screaming.

Strange! Nowadays, kids have no respect for their elders.

When Noor shifts his gaze to the right, he sees a goofy-looking man staring at him.

Then he realizes... it's himself.

"What's that? Is that me? I look weird. It's like I've been living inside a cave for years. But when I was home, I looked different.

Who cares anyway? It's because I live in a dark and shady room; I couldn't tell any difference."

Noor starts walking again.

"My name is Noor. I'm 22 years old, but I look like I'm in my 40s. Maybe it's because of my long beard, who knows?

I'm a writer—well, a novel writer and editor. Authors pay me to do their work, and sometimes I write my own stories."

"Well, I can see the hospital from here. It's not that far. No need to waste money on a taxi; it'll only take me 10 minutes to walk there."

Some people say that talking to yourself is a bad habit, a sign of mental imbalance.

But I don't have a problem with it; I still have to see my therapist, though.

For my nightmares.

But there's also another problem.

The problem is...

I AM MY THERAPIST'S NIGHTMARE!

Noor gets to the hospital in just two minutes. Some people stare at him awkwardly. One says, "Is he a superhuman?"

Another says, "He walks faster than I can run."

Looks like I walked really fast.

Noor enters the hospital.

He sees a weight scale, and a fat guy is measuring his weight. He says, "Damn, 95 kg. I need to lose some weight."

"If you're done, can I use the scale?" Noor asks.

"Sure, why not?" The guy replies, still curious about Noor's weight. They have the same height—about 5'8"—and even though Noor is wearing a long-sleeve T-shirt, his well-built physique is visible.

Noor steps on the scale.

"Damn, 99 kg. I've lost 2 kg. Guess I need to eat more; I'm not eating properly and staying up at night," Noor mutters to himself as he walks away, leaving the fat guy confused.

"How is that even possible?"

Noor walks to the doctor's room and waits for his turn.

Meanwhile, inside, Dr. Abir Ajad is sitting relaxed.

"What a beautiful day," he hums. "The earth is truly beautiful, isn't it? Every person should love themselves to realize how beautiful life is."

While humming, a person enters.

"Sir! Here's the file for the next patient."

"Put it on the desk," he replies.

The person leaves.

Dr. Abir opens the file, and upon seeing Noor's picture, he panics.

"Holy shit! Why is that guy here again? How did he find me? What is he even doing in this city?"

"I have to get out of here, quickly. That guy doesn't have a problem; he is the problem. Nobody can fix him."

But how do I escape? He's probably waiting outside. Oh, the window?

He opens the window and puts one leg outside, but then he realizes...

He's on the 11th floor.

"Oh shit," he mutters, panicking.

"Sir, that's dangerous!" Noor calls from behind.

Both stare at each other for a few seconds.

"Oh, hello, Noor. How are you doing?"

"Sir, your leg is still outside the window. It's dangerous," Noor says.

"Well, as you can see, the day is beautiful, and I just wanted to get some fresh air, ha-ha. I'm not suicidal or anything."

"That's a really stupid way to do that," Noor replies.

"Oh, I see, ha-ha."

Dr. Abir Ajad sits in his chair, visibly panicked.

"So, how are you feeling, Noor? Please, be honest."

"I feel like shit," Noor replies.

"Do you have headaches?"

"Every day," Noor answers.

"Do you feel guilty?"

"Every hour," Noor responds.

"Do you feel worthless?"

"Every minute."

"Do you feel like you're dying inside?"

"Every second."

The doctor raises his eyebrows. "It seems like your condition is getting worse."

Noor replies, "That's not the problem. I've had these issues for a long time, and I'm used to it. The problem is... it keeps coming back."

"What keeps coming back?" the doctor asks.

"Everything I don't want to remember. The things that hurt me the most. The things I lost from my life. Those moments and mistakes I made.

They keep coming back when I close my eyes. Every night, when I sleep, it's like I'm reliving the same experiences over and over again.

It never goes away!"

The doctor stares at Noor pitifully, feeling bad for him but also realizing there's nothing more he can do for him.

"Well, Noor, you've been coming to see me for a long time now. Honestly, I'm getting a little annoyed. As your doctor, I've prescribed you medication and even increased the dosage every time at your request.

I'll increase the dosage one last time, but this is the limit. If you continue, it will be dangerous for your body.

Also, you don't have any physical issues at all. Please take care of your health, and try to let go of those things—they're not real anymore."

Noor shakes his head.

"We've had multiple therapy sessions, but at this point, it all depends on you."

"Okay," Noor replies.

"Well, that's all for today. I have an appointment with my therapist as well, and he's probably in a hurry.

Oh, and by the way... Happy birthday, Noor!"

"How did you know?" Noor asks.

"Well, considering the number of therapy sessions we've had, it's easy to remember."

"Oh..." Noor stares at him awkwardly.

"The truth is, it's written in your medical file."

"Oh, I see," Noor smirks.

"Well, see you later, Noor."

"Bye, doctor."

Noor leaves the hospital, and suddenly his phone rings. The caller ID shows Shahed Alom.

Noor answers, and the person says in a panic, "Noor, my son! Where are you? How are you? I've been trying to find you!"

"Wait, just tell me what you want. Be specific," Noor replies.

"Well, there's a problem with the land papers, and I need your help. Without that, I can't sell it."

"I already gave you the ownership two years ago. What now?" Noor asks.

"It's not that one, son. The problem is with the land your grandparents willed to you when you were born."

"Oh, I see. I'm in Daka. I'll get there as soon as possible," Noor says.

"Please take care of yourself, son. Be careful."

"I will," Noor replies.

He hangs up the phone.

"He tried so hard to find me... Lies.

Everything he says is a lie.

He doesn't care about me; he only cares about the money.

Now he's acting like he's my father. What a lunatic!"

I still can't forget the day he left me...