The Duat Dreamer

CHAPTER 1: My Beginning

My life as David Adam was a normal boring one until one day. As the only child of wealthy parents, I was fussed over a lot, to the point it became annoying. My family is the 'always over-hyping and religious type' that believes in one religion and ruled off the rest as evil entities sent to destroy man but, that has never bothered me.

I had no interest in anything and, when something did grasp my curiosity, it faded over in less than a week. I was an incurable introvert who did not have anyone aside from family. People always thought of me as weird yet, I never gave a second to care about what they thought of me. I could see the envy on their faces, wishing to be me yet, I wanted to be someone else. Who did I want to be? I had no idea but, that 'want' was always there.

If that was my personality, then how on earth did I become a believer in mythologies?

This question has always given me a mixture of migraines and insomnias. I had heard of gods and seen movies on it but, it never fascinated me till after my 19th birthday.

I remember clearly the birthday of addiction to the gods. It was a cold rainy night; I had my usual dose of insomnia when it caught my eye; there it was, at a corner in my room. Like a blowfly to a dead body, the movie drew me. I picked it up, played it; Like an ensnared prey, I became enchanted. One of the things I could not fathom was my undeniable fascination with Horus, especially Anubis who was just a side character in the movie.

That was where it all changed; From that moment onwards, 'Gods of Egypt' became my favourite thing in the whole world. Every time I saw the movie, I questioned my mixed feelings of anger and possessiveness towards the gods and, after two weeks of constant 'Gods of Egypt', my interest never left; Instead, my hunger grew; I needed to know more. Gods of Egypt could no longer fill me and thus began my research.

Reading up on different theories about the existence of gods and creation became a favourite pastime of mine; some might even call it an obsession but, it was not always like this. There was a time when I never even liked the gods or even wanted to hear about them until after I clocked 19; This new me baffled me to no end.

Nevertheless, I continued with my newfound relationship with myths. I moved to the Greeks from the Egyptians mythologies, then unto the Norse and, it kept on. I could not stop reading; it felt like I needed to submerge myself to live. Their world is so huge and connected that it trapped me in with no escape or mercy; I also had no plans of parting. I became a willing prey wanting it to swallow me until my reality was no more.

Strange things began to happen to me after my rebirth. At night, I could sleep, and my glorified insomnia was gone. I would have bizarre recurrent dreams about gods. At times, I would wake up either crying or shouting, sometimes even angry. Other times, I found myself unconsciously praying to Osiris; I began to confuse reality and dreams. The time I spent with them made me feel like I had become a part of their world; The gods became real.

At first, my parents were cool with it because they thought it made me normal. But as time went on, I could see their worried glances. They thought it was unhealthy and tried to get me involved in other things. Yet, it only increased my insouciance in things that weren't myths. I stopped going to college or leaving my room and started skipping meals or eating less just because I wanted more time with them (gods). The looks on the faces of my family screamed 'Oh no! He's wasting'.

Hell broke loose when I told my parents that I wanted to change my discipline in school from Business Administration to Ancient Studies. I told them about the dreams and how it felt like they were speaking to me; Telling me what path I should take in life and decisions to make.

After I said these, they cracked like broken eggs. They were terrified at how my life began to revolve only around myths. They thought me confused and told me to drop the topic and, when I refused, they sought their version of help. My parents took me to the Psychiatrists and other religious organizations to get me help (or cleanse me as the priest would say) because I could not differentiate between what was and was not. They all thought and looked at me as if I was possessed.

They made it a big deal but, I could not see what was wrong with my actions. I remember feeling so hurt and ashamed at how my parents were handling things.

They took a simple discussion and transformed it into a life scaring event. I protested against their help but, it only fueled them further. An injustice that was being done to me, why? Because for once, I knew what I wanted.

They made me take a gap year from school to get treatment. During the treatment, I tried and tried to keep sane. However, I failed; I became suspicious of my mental faculty. The first six months was in the hospital hidden from the public eye. The remains were in temples and, some places I did not know; Nonetheless, the dreams persisted.

It was a difficult time for me because, I felt out of my mind, body and soul. Constantly dreaming, being suffocated with drugs, prayers and chants, having withdrawal symptoms from too many stories, I wanted time to freeze over and everything to stop. So I convinced everyone that I was okay. I did not want to prolong my suffering anymore and decided to stop talking about my dreams. I lied and pretended to be but, that was far from my truth.

When they were convinced, they let me go but under strict observations. The minute my rehabilitation was over, I relapsed like an addict but, this time, my romance was now a f*******n passion.

Returning to school, as a college student, my parents told everyone that I did an exchange program to study abroad for a year which was in every way a lie. One would think that I had freedom but unknown to them, I was under strict surveillance.

To not be a prisoner of love, I devised a little plan. I bought my first friend; His name is Billy. I took an online Course on Ancient Studies and, the HQ for all my secret rendezvous with myths was in his house. Billy and I would spend hours in his room yet, no words were uttered. The silence would be so heavy and suffocating for Billy but, that was why I paid him.

I would spend my time at his home just reading, learning or seeing different movies on Myths. Our agreement was that:

What I do in his room stays in his house. No word should get to my parents as they now watch my every move like a stalker.

He was not allowed to speak or freely converse with me because I am his boss and not his friend.

Billy would buy me whatever I demanded.

I would use the separate phone bought with my money but registered under him for anything I wanted.

He is not to question any of my demands or actions.

He is not too disturbed me until I speak to him.

He is to avoid any contact with me aside in school and his home.

These were my rules.

That was when my first imaginary friend (to my parents) Billy existed, whom I spent a lot of time with after school. Every day after school, my family would assume I was having a good time with friends but, hidden at a corner of his room, I made myself comfortable with a book in my hand or on my phone.

With my hatred for the world as if it was against me, I immersed myself in my mythologies especially the Egyptian myths. Be it a new one or reading the old ones. I enjoyed them like I was reading them for the first time. My obsession with the gods gave me beliefs and inner peace still, I felt amiss.

My life began to take a routine: house to school, school to Billy's, and then back home. I had gotten a bit used to Billy and, he had gotten a bit used to the silence and my selfish demands.

Or so I thought.

For two months, our contract stayed the same. Till Billy thought it was time to barge into my life as he barged into my house on that wondrous day.

It was a Saturday and, my parents felt that I needed a break from Billy's home. With nothing to do, I was conversing with my dad in the living room about his business when the security informed us that I had a guest.

Shocked everyone was because no one visited me, not even Billy (my so-called friend). When we received the guest, the unexpected visitor turned out to be a very well dressed Billy.

'Billy, what are you doing here?' I enquired but, he laughed it off nervously as a joke and replied. 'Did you forget that we were supposed to go to that party today?'

Party! Party!!

I knew nothing of such and, when I was about to chew his head off, my mom exclaimed. 'Oh! That's why you were so adamant about leaving today because you had a party that you did not want us to know. Well, that is not an issue; you must attend, do not let us stop you.' she said.

I said nothing but watched Billy like a hunter watching his prey. He looked brave but, he was sweating a lot and his hands vibrated too; He knew; he had done wrong. My mom was about to invite him for a chat when I quickly beat her to it. I invited (more like commanded) the frightened Billy upstairs to my room.

'Let's go Billy, we have a lot to prepare for.' and with that, we went up.