Horror fiction
My Muslim Jinn FRIEND!!
The Extraordinary Bond of a teenager with a Muslim Jinn
Let me take you back to when I was 18 years old. My name was Hassan, and what I experienced during that time still sends shivers down my spine. Brace yourself as I recount this chilling tale.
It all began when I moved into a seemingly ordinary house, seeking solace and tranquility. Little did I know, this house held secrets and an otherworldly presence that would soon send my world into a spiral of fear. As the days unfolded, strange and unexplainable phenomena started to plague my existence, causing terror to grip not only me but my entire family.
Objects moved of their own accord, and the air became heavy with unsettling sounds and eerie noises. The simple act of opening the fridge became a nerve-racking experience as food vanished without any rational explanation. These occurrences threw us into a state of constant fear, unsure of what horrors awaited us next.
However, amidst the terror, an unexpected bond began to form between me and the enigmatic jinn inhabiting my house. Perhaps it was my youthful curiosity or open heart that drew them to me. Through a series of written notes, we forged an extraordinary friendship that defied the boundaries of the natural and supernatural.
As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, our connection deepened. I discovered that they were a jinn family consisting of a wise and gentle father, a caring and nurturing mother, and their two remarkable children. Their youngest child, despite being an astonishing 150 years old, possessed a childlike innocence that touched my heart.
Although initially terrified, I soon realized that these jinns meant no harm. They apologized when disturbances occurred, often caused by their youngest child’s playful nature. Through our written exchanges, their intentions became clear — they were not here to haunt us but rather to coexist in harmony.
In time, the jinn family revealed their Muslim identity, requesting a space within our home for prayer. I welcomed their presence, believing that our collective prayers would bring blessings and tranquility to our lives. Every night, I prepared extra food, embracing the notion that our humble abode had become a sanctuary where humans and jinn united in worship.
But alas, dear friend, every tale must have its end. One fateful day, I confided in a religious figure about the extraordinary presence that had become a part of my life. Their grave warnings sent chills down my spine, cautioning me against the perils of allowing jinn into our midst. Reluctantly, I realized that I had to make the heart-wrenching decision to bid farewell to my supernatural friends.
With a heavy heart, I penned a final letter explaining the reasons why I could no longer extend their stay. I expressed my profound gratitude for their friendship and the warmth they brought to our home. But as I wrote those words, an overwhelming sadness washed over me, for it felt as though I was losing a cherished companion — a friend who had become an integral part of my life.
Our bond, forged in the face of fear and uncertainty, transcended the realms of the natural and supernatural. The jinn family understood my concerns, and after requesting a week’s time to find a new abode, they bid their poignant farewell in a final letter. As I read their words, a bittersweet ache filled my heart, knowing that a precious friendship had reached its conclusion.
To this day, I leave extra food each night as a silent tribute, a remembrance of the jinn family that graced our home. The plates remain untouched, and the fragrance of their presence no longer lingers in the drawing room.
