How I Met Mr Jinn ✔️

Chapter Thirty-Three

A Jinns True Colors

    The only words I found to describe the Sheikhs place, was Huge, and traditional.

In fact, it looked like it came out right from a Buduin movie with camels and sharp eyeliner (kohl). Other then that, the place was also strange. It had lots of vases with mesmerizing patterns, and papers with strangely written words hung on almost every wall, there was even a drawing of a little goblin with horns on one of them.

The only thing calming about any of it was the large calligraphy of the word Allah (الله) on one of the walls. The alarming thing about that though, was it was slightly tilted, which was rather strange.

Not like I was supposed to be calm, to begin with. I was heading to a stranger's house (Supposedly a Sheikh but who knows who this creepy guy might actually be) while being led in by another stranger. It looked like a perfect opportunity to strike, But Iyar didn't make a move, even as I observed him like a painter about to paint. He walked in front of me by about 6 feet distance and kept glancing back to see if I was still following. He looked like he knew the place better then I knew him.

In no time, we approached a small room with old-looking chairs around it. My parents, however, were wise to never sit in them, as for they were seated on the floor along with the old man.

The Sheikh, fit the description quite well. He had a long fluffy white beard, the whitest skin, and His eyes small, hidden behind many folds of skin as it lay flat on his skull. He also gave out a strange aura around him. A cold unwelcoming one, if I might say.

This man was the first to notice my presence, and when he did, he immediately alerted my parents. I glanced over at my father, as he held a look of worry in his eyes, and a hesitant smile on his lips. It felt like he was unsure, uncertain, lost in a complete fog.

I didn't like that horrid feeling or that train of thought. It was all in my head is what I told myself. So I quickly turned to my mother, who offered a kind- yet concerned smile. As much as I try to wrap my head around it, I decided that she was telling me to not be afraid, and to make this shitty old room my home.

"Alsalamalykum," I greeted, "So tell me, what is this all about?"

"Walykum Alsalam wa Rahmat Allah wa barakatu," They replied in sync.

"Come," The old man spoke, "Sit."

Stop treating me like a damn puppy. I thought.

I furrowed my eyebrows out of suspicion, but though no one saw it, my head was spinning in many directions. So in order to seek guidance, I glanced back at Iyar who stood beside me near the doorframe. He read the silent conversation of the eyes, and in response, He smiled, encouraging me to go in, and having no reason to not, I followed. If I die, it'll be him who I'll haunt, I came to a conclusion.

"You must be Ruqaya." He began, just as I got seated opposite him, which was also in between my parents.

"Did a crystal ball tell you that?" I mocked, looking back at the place where Iyar once stood, only to find it was empty. "Or perhaps your third eye?" I asked. If I was going to go along with all of this, I might as well have some fun.

"No, actually your parents did."

"Oh... "

"Your mother's name is Zainub, and your Fathers name is Salam."

"And they definitely told you that," I replied.

"Now, I'd like it if you all got quiet." He told us, obviously annoyed from my big blabbering mouth. I wouldn't blame him if I was a fake I'd be pissed at realists as well.