Alexandria, Egypt, December 17, 2009, 11:45 am.

Camellia tried to recall if she had ordered anything, but nothing came to mind. She had a photographic memory; forgetting was extremely rare for her. She checked her watch; her shift had already begun, but she needed to get the box first. She arrived after thirty minutes. Parked her car outside the front door and asked one of the maids to bring her the box.

After a few moments, the maid appeared in front of her and handed it to her. “Who placed the order? Did you hear anything from the delivery guy?” She took the box and placed it on the hood of the car. Camellia, perplexed, as the maid explained what had happened before returning to the house.

She took another look, then took her keys from her bag and opened it. She discovered a small sticker inside with the sender’s address; sent from Seoul, and the date was two days earlier.

“Seoul? Liam?” Camellia frowned as she spoke. She began by opening the letter, which was a blank sheet of paper with only one sentence in the middle.

 Mend reality.

She put the letter away and looked at the box. It was quite small. Her scowl deepened when she discovered thirty papyruses containing hieroglyphic texts. It was telling a narrative.

The first one she saw piqued her interest. On the right side, there was a drawing of an ancient Egyptian green frog-headed man with a sun symbol above his head and a strange-looking bird with a water pot above its head.

On the left side, there were three columns of hieroglyphics written inside a cartouche, with all of them repeating one word. On all the papyruses, a blue uraeus cobra bears a golden sun disc written in an unusual pattern. Camellia was familiar with hieroglyphics; she translated each page, oblivious to how disturbing it was.

After reading, she felt her body shiver. She removed all the papyruses from the box and spread it across the hood of the car. Each papyrus she read muddled her mind even more; it was a coded message her mind couldn’t decipher.

Striking with an overwhelming sensation put her on the verge of recalling a foreign memory that, for a moment, felt like it belonged to her in some way.

With endless questions racing through her mind, one stood out above the rest: what if the story written on the papyrus was true for implausible reasons? Her thoughts were interrupted when a bright light reflected from the box struck her eyes. She reached inside the box and grabbed whatever was inside.

Her slim fingers were adorned with a red amethyst oval quartz gemstone necklace on a clear silver chain. Despite her gentle touch on the hard quartz, it cut her thumb, and her blood dripped quickly over the chain and her hand.

8:30 pm.

“Wake up, Camellia,” Layla’s soft and soothing voice penetrated her ears. Camellia’s breathing was steady and deep. Layla called again, this time nudging her shoulders. Camellia shifted slightly on her back, her left short sleeve rising to reveal her entire arm. “I told you to wear long sleeves,” Layla shook her head, annoyed. “I’m not sure why you got this hideous tattoo.”

Layla gave her a hard nudge. “It’s 8:30 p.m., you’re late,” she said as she turned on the lights and exited the room. Camellia opened her eyes quickly, looked around, and found herself in her bedroom, on her bed. Her gaze was drawn to the window next to her. She blinked, perplexed; it was dark outside.

She sat up quickly but felt a sharp pain in the back of her head as if someone had hit her hard on the head. She rubbed it and walked behind her mother, saying, “How did I get here? Why is it so dark outside?”

“Honey, go change your scrubs,” Layla said as she stroked Camellia’s hair, “It was a long day at the hospital, but you have to change your sleeping pattern, you can’t work the night shift if you’re that sleepy.”

“What night shift?” Camellia said, alertly holding her mother’s hand.

“The night shift you agreed to take over for the next two weeks” — Camellia frowned — “you signed up for it earlier today,” Camellia looked like a lost kid in the middle of kindergarten. “Sweets, go wash your face, and change.”

Layla went downstairs to see her husband, while Camellia stood in front of her room. “How?!” Camellia said to herself. Her phone rang; it was Nadine on the other end. She returned and found the phone on a chair next to a large wooden cheval mirror.

“Where are you?!” Nadine said loudly from the other side.

“Nadine! Help me,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I’m not sure what happened, I—” Camellia looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe her own eyes; she moved her hand over her neck, gasping at her reflection.

Her blood from the cut merged with the silver chain as she wore the gemstone necklace. Her tattoo is partially hidden by her left sleeve. Her stunned gaze shifted from the necklace to her left arm. She moved her sleeve to reveal the entire tattoo.

All senses of reality were snatched from her, leaving her almost choking on her own low burning breath.

“Are you still sleeping, Cami? I’ve been waiting for an hour here. Are you coming or not?” Nadine’s piercing voice revived her like the last breath of life in a nearly dead body.

“—I’m... on my way.” Camellia hung up the phone and stared at herself, terrified. She recalled the box and called up the maid, who was standing outside her door. “Where is the box?” Camellia asked as the maid stood in front of her, unsure what she meant. “The box you gave me this morning; the one that arrived in the mail today,” Camellia explained slowly.

“But nothing came in the mail, and you didn’t get home until 7:00 p.m.,” the maid hesitantly said.

“How come!? I got home at 11:45 a.m.” Camellia screamed angrily at her. Camellia’s terrified face and screaming voice startled the maid. Layla called up to her, dashing away fast when Camellia turned her back on her.

Camellia looked in the mirror and exclaimed, “What happened to me!?” She changed her clothes and looked for her bag, which she found on the floor next to her bed. Camellia noticed the papyruses inside. She grabbed it and dashed to her car, heading to Nadine.