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𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 7𝐭𝐡, 2031.
2:27 am.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞.
𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞.
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"I give up. No one will ever find me." A deep voice suddenly proclaimed as he moved his arms to rest upon them causing the chains and shackles attached to his wrists and lower legs to make a sharp, hard, non-resonant sound as they clanked against each other.
"That's what you're best at anyways. Giving up. That's why you're still in this situation."
"I don't want to hear it."
"It's the truth, and you know it."
"I said. . . I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. It." The sound of his voice echoing throughout the room was the only thing that could be heard in the pitch-black space. He was speaking to no one other than the voice in his head, keeping him from the brick of insanity despite making his personal solitude worse by simply speaking.
"You have infiltrated that boy's dreams. You can do whatever you want to him in the dreaming. It's a matter of time before he lets you out. He is emotionally unstable. You can use that to your advantage and make him take your place without him knowing."
"Shut it. I'm not letting you get my hopes up for the same thing to happen before, to happen again. I'm trapped. I might never be let out."
"So optimistic."
It has been seventy-two years, nine months, and fifteen days since the genie was summoned, saw a light, saw his own reflection in the mirror, or spoke to someone. The constant bickering with his thoughts was what helped prevent his voice from getting hoarse and losing whatever amount of humanity he had left.
As a genie, they have to wait in utter, dark solitude till they're summoned once again. Use their abilities to satisfy their summoner, return to the lamp, and repeat.
It doesn't matter how many centuries they have to wait for them to leave the lamp finally. They have to remain chained up till that day comes. They don't age, nor do they have necessities such as sleeping, eating, or using the bathroom as humans do. They are immortal, so they can't end their lives if they so wish, which makes this prison more agonizing.
All they can do is wait. . .
All he can do is wait.
As he was in deep thought, the heavy chains became lighter as each second passed to the point it felt as though they were no longer there. "They're gone. . ."
