Dear Diary,
Okay, let's get something straight — I'm not crazy. I know what I saw. Or, at least, I think I know what I saw.
Here's the thing: I'm not someone who believes in fate or destiny. I mean, I'm just a regular 15-year-old girl trying to get through high school without turning into an emotional wreck. I barely have time to figure out how to do my own hair, let alone unravel some ancient mystery about reincarnation and royalty.
But then Malik happened.
It's not like he's some stereotypical tall, dark, and handsome guy — okay, fine, maybe he is, but there's something about him that's different. I'm talking about the kind of different that makes your heart skip a beat when he looks your way. You know what I mean? It's the kind of different that makes you second-guess everything you thought you knew about your life.
After I saw him standing over me in the hallway, I barely made it through the rest of the school day without either losing my mind or passing out from sheer confusion. How do you even go to math class when a golden scroll is sitting in your backpack, daring you to figure out what the heck is going on?
The worst part? I couldn't stop thinking about him.
So, I did what any self-respecting, slightly awkward high schooler would do: I googled him.
I know, I know. Creepy much? But listen — I wasn't trying to stalk him. I was just curious, okay? A girl's got to know what she's working with.
I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. No social media profiles, no "cool guy" club memberships, no secret underground gamer group (because, duh, why would there be?).
So, naturally, that made me even more obsessed. How could a guy who looked like he just walked out of a magazine not have an online presence? It's like he was too perfect to be real.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning in bed, my mind racing. And just when I thought I might finally drift off, I had the dream.
It started like all dreams do — hazy, blurry, and confusing. But then, it shifted. I was no longer in my bed, lying under my soft blankets. No, I was standing in the middle of what looked like a grand throne room. Think palace, high ceilings, ornate windows, with giant columns that made me feel tiny in comparison. And in the center of it all was a throne. Not just any throne, but one that practically glowed with a golden light, making it impossible for me to look away.
But what really struck me — what really got me — was the figure sitting on it.
She looked just like me. Same hair, same eyes, but there was something regal about her. She wore a long, flowing gown, with jewels embedded in the fabric, and a crown that sparkled with what I can only describe as power.
I stepped forward, and it felt like I was walking in slow motion, drawn to her by some invisible force.
"Zariah," she said, her voice as smooth and soft as velvet. But when she spoke my name, it felt like the air around me hummed with energy.
I didn't know what to say. In fact, I couldn't say anything. I was frozen, my mouth dry and my heart thudding in my chest.
"You are the reincarnation of a queen," she continued, her words echoing through the throne room like the sound of a distant storm. "But not just any queen. The one."
And then she smiled. A smile that was both kind and terrifying at the same time.
Before I could respond, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
Malik.
But he wasn't like the Malik I'd seen earlier. He looked more… intense, like he was some sort of ancient guardian or warrior. His eyes were the same deep, piercing color, but they held an intensity that made my stomach tighten.
"You are not yet ready to remember," he said. "But you will be. Soon."
And just like that, everything went dark.
I woke up, my breath coming in fast, shallow gasps. The room felt too quiet, too still. My heart was racing, my hands trembling. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew one thing for sure — this dream wasn't just a dream. It was real. Something was changing.
But what?
I don't know how, but I just know it's connected to the golden envelope in my locker, the strange feeling I get whenever Malik looks at me, and the insane dreams that feel like they're not just from my imagination.
The next day at school, things felt weird. I kept thinking about the dream. The queen. The crown. And Malik. He wasn't in my classes, but it felt like he was watching me from a distance. It was almost like he was waiting for something — waiting for me to do something, or maybe to remember.
And then there's me, just trying to survive geometry class without having another panic attack. So cool, right?
But when I went to my locker during lunch, there it was again. That envelope.
The one with my name. The one that had been waiting for me.
The gold ink seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the hallway as I pulled it out and opened it once again.
"The time is near. The crown awaits you. Follow the signs. Trust no one, except him."
That last part? It sent a chill down my spine. Trust no one, except him? Who was him? Malik?
I shoved the envelope back into my backpack, but it didn't make me feel any better. If anything, it only made me more certain that I was being dragged into something way bigger than myself.
Love,Zariah