How I Met Mr Jinn ✔️

Chapter Thirty-Six

I Believe You

I analyzed their expressions carefully, only to find them blank in color and emotion, as a white sheet of paper. But to put it simply and in a not-so-blunt-way, I was expecting an outburst of some sort. A scolding, or a lecture I might not even need. But it didn't happen. Nothing happened. And that scared me more than I had ever anticipated.

The only thing that seemed to move was my lips, as they mumbled the rest of the story like secrets- just loud enough for them to be heard; in the dead silent room, their bedroom had become. The setting sun amongst twilight cast shadows onto their faces like tattoos, granting them a morose aura around them, and making them look dangerous to be around. It wasn't like an irksome kid pointing a flashlight upwards and under his chin while telling a ghost story.

No ghost story scared the storyteller as this one did.

"You shouldn't have a runoff." My father interrupted. He had had enough of my garrulousness.

"I told you I was sorry!" I exclaimed, "That's why you need to understand what I have to say next. Please, let me finish."

"Let her," My mother told him, folding her arms under her chest in a daring manner, with her honey-colored eyes watching my every move. The frigid eyes staring right back at me like ice-cold daggers also carried a speck of pain. She was a mother, after all, hurting was what she did for her children.

Grecio, who was standing behind me in uncomfortable silence this whole time... tensed; as his hairs probably stood tall, and his arms full of goosebumps like my own when I dared feel his flesh. He seemed to be uneasy around her, but he wasn't alone in that. He then attempted to grasp my shoulder for comfort, but something made him second think that as he quickly brought back his hand.

"Sorry." He muttered, taking a few steps back until I heard the sound of his back against the wall.

"Thank you,"

But to put it to words, I didn't know who it was that I was thinking that very moment. It Could have been my parents; For allowing me to continue what they believed was utter nonsense, or was it him? For sparing me the burden, of feeling his skin across my bare neck and shoulders when he knew I lusted every part of it, by how fast my heartbeat. "Arent you going to speak?" He faked a laugh. "You might as well get on with it."

How could you laugh!? I wondered, looking down at my palm as my fingers unraveled, observing the beads of sweat across the natural lines that were carved onto it.

Before Parting my lips, I gulped, feeling my unwelcoming and dry throat fight back despite needing the liquid. Being dehydrated and weak, I told them the rest of the story with ease, and discomfort. Meanwhile, I watched the two adults continue to pass looks to each other hopelessly, or sigh in disappointment. By the time I had finished, and as little details I spared, their expressions hardly changed. Still naive and hopeful, I asked, "Do you believe me?"

"You're making me question your sanity," My mother answered truthfully. "How the hell is this the truth, Ruqaya?"

"It's part of being Muslim to believe in these things, right dad?" I asked. As an excuse to avert her burning gaze, and to welcome a third party in, I turned to face my dad who was still calculating everything in his head silently with his head down and his fingers tangled neatly in a ball. "Y-yeah.." he stuttered, "But if what your saying is true-"

"Which it isn't." She interrupted, tilting her head slightly to make a bold statement. My father glanced over his shoulder, but choose not to argue. He then finished off in a low and soothing voice that as angelic as it sounded, scared me, "We believe in jinn, as Muslims are obliged to... but sweetie, we're also not fools." He told me. "The electricity went off? Maybe it is them, but there's probably a scientific reason behind it happening. We shouldn't blame the poor creatures for everything!"