A few years ago, I watched some Youtube videos about the tsunamis that hit Japan and Indonesia, but I don't remember if they were that huge.

There at the horizon, dark blue sea is rising in slow motion, or perhaps this is what it seems at first glance from distance; I don't think it's slow at all.

The hiss coming from the blue mountains makes my hair stand on end. The loudest and the scariest hiss I have ever heard. The sea is in a gloomy mood today, threatening us with his angry grumble. Only God knows how this grumble really sounds like near these gigantic waves.

Suddenly, the sea crawls away from the beach. As if someone pulls this blue carpet, revealing the yellow sandy floor beneath. The tsunami grows even more, and I wonder when it is going to stop growing.

"RUN! RUN!" a man from the crowd howls, releasing me from the petrifying spell of the breath-taking sight. Oh shit! I'm finally awake. The monstrous wave is not only growing; it's coming closer. The blue mountains will be descending upon us. Have I been waiting for this man to realize this simple fact?

Well, it's not only me who comes back to his senses. "Run! Run! Run!" everybody cries, sprinting away from the beach.

I hurry back to the bike. The boy, whom I almost hit a few minutes ago, dashes past me and mounts its saddle. "Hey! Hey!" I bellow. Before the bike picks up speed, I catch him, pull him from his shirt and throw him to the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" I growl. He doesn't seem to be concerned with my bellowing. His wide eyes are not at me. They are fixated on the coming tsunami. He totally ignores me when he rises and sprints south with the racing crowd. I should be doing the same. The wave is getting bigger and darker as it approaches.

No, soldier! I remind myself. The Civic is there and I'm about to accomplish my mission. I feel stupid about that, but here I am; mounting the saddle, riding the bicycle to the wrong direction. Everyone is running away from the Corniche, from the sea, while I'm still sticking to my predetermined mission route.

I reach the Civic at last. The bicycle falls as I jump from it and lunge at the car door. Idiot! How did I forget what happened yesterday? The smashed rear windshield is my only way to get myself inside. I dive inside the car, and ouch! My hand screams as it glides over a pointed glass shard. I'm not sure how serious the cut is because my eyes are now busy scanning the car, but shit! No keys in the ignition. Maybe I dropped it yesterday under the driver's seat. Try to remember quickly, Ali! You didn't take the key from the ignition after your second try. If the chain is not here, then someone must have visited the vehicle last night. Now get your ass out of here!

Sorry, Commodore Yousry; I have failed you. I must abort mission now.

I slide myself over the back seat, then over the truck before I land on the asphalt. Crap! The wave is even huger than I thought, yet still I have time to run away. My hands are glued to the bike handlebars and my legs pedal hysterically. Now I'm heading south—where I should have headed to from the beginning. I hope I won't regret the time I wasted thanks to my failed mission. Well, I'm regretting it already.

The sea roars behind me, but I should keep my eyes ahead to keep my pace without hitting one of those runways, or bumping into one of those dead cars. Don't look back! I remind myself for the tenth time, but I can't help it. The roar is getting louder. Louder than the screams coming from the streets and the apartments above. Alexandria is receiving its most shocking wake up call ever.

My throbbing heart stops beating for a moment as I hear a horrifying crack. Don't look back! Don't look back! But again, I look over my shoulder, gaping at the ghastly wave that sweeps away everything in its way. People, cars, light poles and even buildings. Yes, that horrendous crack I have just heard comes from a row of collapsing blocks. Now I can't see them anymore as the tsunami gulps them down.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I bit my lower lip as I keep my legs pedaling like a maniac. I can hear my pounding heart. My strained legs muscles are about to tear. The skin on my hand is almost worn.

I don't need to look back to realize the ugly truth; I'm losing this race to the mother of all waves. The roar is getting louder, and the wave must be behind me by only a few meters.

Game over, Ali. Better luck next time.

Only a few seconds, and I'm going to be screwed like everyone else in the streets or in their houses. I'm going to die. God! Please! I never imagined myself as one of those who would die too young. Death is a topic I know about from funerals, news and Friday prayers, but I'm about to test it myself at any moment.

Wait! That new white building at the end of the street; it's much taller than the rest of these old, short, certainly doomed blocks. I think I've found my salvation. My gut feeling tells me that building will stand the blue mountains, even by a hair.

My mind assures me: you are going to get yourself wet.

No time for distracting thoughts. Now I'm nothing but a pair of hands gripping the handlebars, and a pair of pedaling legs. A scream comes out of my throat as the brine saturates my nose with its thick smell. One look back will slow me a bit. One look back and I'm dead. I see nothing but the white block. I hear nothing but the deafening roar.

And it's raining salt now.

I ascend the sidewalk with my bike. All I need is three more seconds to reach my salvation. I wait for the right moment before I dive sideways, leaving the bike to its inevitable fate. My right knee and palm hurt as they absorb the impact of my fall on the floor of the block entrance. Luckily, its door is not closed. Dammit if it was shut! For a millisecond or two, I imagine my head plummeting into the steel door—I don't know how long a millisecond is anyway.

I rise on my feet when the rushing water chases me inside the entrance, bending the iron bars of the gate, crushing its glass plates. I close my mouth the moment the water shoves me, throwing me against the stairway. Every inch of my body hurts after the stairs and I become one part.

Don't panic. Don't gulp water. Two simple tips I have learnt about how to avoid drowning. The second tip is the easier one, because seriously, how am I supposed to avoid panicking right now? I am totally submerged as the entrance of the building—the one I thought it would be my salvation—is turning into a diving pool.

Rise, Ali. My eyes are fixated on the rising surface above my head. Move your legs. The only barrier between me and air is getting further, but I believe I can make it. I'm not dying today! Right leg, left leg, right leg, left leg, and I rise in the sunken stairwell. How high is this building? I didn't notice when I spotted it. I used to swim for longer distance, but at this particular moment, my body is not 100% ready. Every muscle in my legs and thighs cries for rest, but no! Don't listen to them, Ali! Right leg, left leg, and my heart throbs like crazy as if it's about to explode inside my chest. Right leg, left leg, and my lungs beg for air. Right leg, left leg and HUH! My mouth is open at last as my head rises above water. My chest wheezes as I suck in all the air I can get.

The water surface is steady now, and actually, it's getting down a bit. I stare at the smashed windows of the stairway, imagining the sight of the sea rushing into the building, filling its stairway and stairwell like a huge concrete water tank.

A door floats next to me, obviously, detached from its hinge by the water thrust. This door belongs to someone's apartment. I wonder where this someone is now. Most probably, he will float after a week or two. Anyway, I'm still breathing, and that's what really matters. All I have to do is to move my legs nice and easy to keep myself floating without exhausting myself. The tsunami has passed, I guess, but who knows when this death ride ends? I will not rest assured until I set foot on dry land—if it's a bit wet, I'll be fine with it as well.

I reach out to the handrail of the stairway. With my hands holding to the handrail, I raise then slide my body over it before I land on the stairway. A few moments ago, stomping on a solid surface was a nearly impossible wish. Laying my ass on these steps, to have some rest, sounds like a good idea. But the fear of encountering another tsunami urges me to go upstairs. My power is drained, and I'm not sure if I can stand another round with water.

Holding the wet handrail, I ascend the stairs in slow steps, water drips from me over the already flooded floor. My shirt, jeans, socks, shoes and everything else; all are soaked through. Yet I don't feel like taking them off now. I'm not going to worry about my wet clothes before I reach the roof.

I look down at the stairwell, contemplating the distance I swam to sniff some oxygen. It's roughly equal to the distance remaining to my destination atop the block. On another day, I would take the elevator.

The roof door is still in place and, fortunately, it's not shut. Stepping inside, I find a man leaning to the balustrade with one hand, holding a little girl's hand with the other. She's the first who notices me.

"Dad.A stranger." She shakes her dad's hand.

Her father is a bit taller than me. A well-built, short-haired thirtyish guy, clad in black T-shirt and shorts.

"Oh my God!" His eyes widen, scanning me. Still holding his daughter's hand, he approaches me. "Are you okay?"

The question is hard to answer, but if we consider 'I'm still breathing' as the lowest eligible level to being okay, the answer will be yes.

"It could have been worse," I sigh.

"He is too wet, Daddy," his little daughter states the obvious. Her innocence reminds of Mona, my little sister, when she was at her age. Is this cutie worried about me catching cold? I will be grateful if I live long enough to catch cold.

"He is, sweetie." He looks at her, the right part of his mouth quirking upward. "Tell me," he addresses me, "Are there any other survivors?"

"I don't know." I walk past him to the balustrade and gaze at the sunken city. The streets are gone. The Corniche doesn't exist. The beach is a myth. With an exception for a few buildings that have stood still against the tsunami, all I see is blue. The blue reigns over Alexandria now.

Oh my God! Mom.Dad. Mona. Have they survived the tsunami? I can't think of the other possibility.

"I don't know how you made it, but you did the right thing when you sought shelter in a high spot," he says as he stands next to me.

Yeah, because I'm a genius, you know. My brain is still not able to digest this sight, and yet this guy looks too calm for someone witnessing a super catastrophe. His calmness provokes me for some reason.

"You don't live here, do you?" he leans to the balustrade.

I'm not in the mood of making new acquaintances. "No." My hollow eyes are fixated on the dominating blue color of the landscape.

"Oh, dear." He pauses for a moment before he asks, "Your parents?"

"I must find them," I mutter without looking at him.

"I hope you will." His tone his emotionless. "You should take off your shirt, socks and shoes and let them dry. But you may keep the jeans on you."

"This is useless." I pout. "I must go and find my family."

"Listen." He approaches, holding my shoulder. "I know how you feel, but—"

"You have no idea how I feel," I snarl, pushing his hand. "You're safe here with your daughter clutching your T-shirt."

He glances at his daughter before he glares at me, his voice low. "My wife is staying at her parents in Smouha(*)," he leans forward toward to me, "with our newborn baby boy. I'm keeping my composure in this tragic situation to reassure this girl clutching my T-shirt. I won't let her watch some reckless teenage stunts, like you jumping off the building to save your family. Do I make myself clear here?"

Did I misjudge the guy at the first glance? Maybe. Appearances could be deceiving sometimes.

"Alright." I nod. "What are you going to do to find your family? Other than staying here?"

"I want to find my family as much as you want to find yours," he says. "But hotheaded thoughts won't take us anywhere. Before we act, we must think."

"Very well." I smirk, my hands on my waist. "You want us to act according to a plan, right?"

"I have a plan already." He looks me in the eye. "Survive."

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Glossary:

(*) Smouha: A district in Alexandria