All this kid wants to do is think. They don't want to experience things in real life, oh no, just in their dreams. It's really starting to get to you, how much they are missing out on. If only they would try to interact with other children instead of reading book after book after book. You don't even think it is helpful for the child's intellectual capacity - any social knowledge it could gain is halted by the child's extreme anxiety around being with others.\n\nAlso, the child has a fascination with Bollywood movies, which baffles you. They don't even speak the language! They foolishly sing along without knowing what the words mean, and the dancing...You have to put up with them trying to dance, which would be fine if they didn't try and do it so secretly all the time. Their favourite movie hero is some buff, ugly actor who is the same in every movie as the romantic lead - cheeky, charming, and fake. You find the child's obsession irritating, even though it is expected of a child their age.\n\n[[Well, you'll just have to deal with it until they die|Five]].

The child is made to sit next to a beautiful little Nigerian girl at the new school. Her name is Ameerah. "What's your name?" she innocently asks.\n\nThey respond, but what you notice more is that their heart is beating much faster than before, and their breathing is much sharper. Ameerah does not seem to notice.\n\n"Where are you from?" she asks the child.\n\n<center>//Uh...oh no...um, my mom is from Pakistan and my dad's American...but I've lived everywhere...I don't...what do I say?!//</center>\nWords flood their mind and their heart rate increases even more.\n\n[[Try to make the child give a straight answer|Straight up]].\n[[Try to make the child make up something quickly|Quick]].

When they are born, you are born. A fat baby owning big black eyes with no visible iris. A black, messy bird's nest sits atop their head, the whole bloody body writhing and screaming unintelligibly.\n\nYou are able to tune into their thoughts.\n\n<center>//No! No! No!//</center>\nthey keep screaming internally, matching the constant external screams, so shrill it would break glass and pierce your organs. They have been ripped apart from their mother, who is now wiping the sweat and tears from her tan-coloured face. She reaches out to hold the baby but the doctor's say something you can't quite hear.\n\nA short, pale man sits beside the mother, lightly tapping her hand. He looks like he might be of Irish descent. "That's our little girl," he says about the baby in a New Jersey accent. You see dark circles under his eyes. The baby will not stop screaming. You can tell he is gritting his teeth.\n\nThe mother closes her eyes. The nurses are cleaning her up; she doesn't move a muscle. Her eyes open up every time the baby stops screaming, but that is always short lived.\n\n<center>//No! No!//</center> \nthe child keeps repeating, in sounds a developed human cannot understand.\n\n[[Try to soothe the child|Soothe]].\n[[Make the child shut up, for their parents' sakes|Shut up]].\n[[Do nothing|Nothing]].

<center>Angels, made of light, are subservient to Allah and the Prophet's message alone.\nHumans, made of clay, have free will and the love of Allah.\nDjinn, depending on the folklore, can be neutral, evil, good, or completely unconcerned with human life.</center>\n\nWhich kind of Djinn are [[you|Two]]?

<center><big>The first day at a new school</big></center>\n\nThe child is 10 years old now. Yacub started a new position in Oman, and the whole family has finally settled into their new home. School is starting today, and as always, the child is nervous.\n\nSomething you have started to notice is that you can somewhat influence the child's thoughts and decisions. It isn't an exact science by any means, and you are unsure of whether or not it actually works the way you think it does.\n\n[[It is time for an experiment|Six]].\n

You attempt to stroke the baby's hair to comfort them. They have gone through quite an ordeal. Unfortunately, they keep screaming because they cannot feel your touch or your low humming - though you can hear them, feel them, and see them clearly, even their thoughts.\n\n[[That's too bad|Three]].

Sometimes, it made you feel fulfilled to make her think the most ridiculous things. It mostly ended in hilarity for you - but this could come at a cost for the child. However, since you got what you wanted, it made you feel content.\n\nOne such time when you tried to influence her again was when the child went to stay over at a friend's house. The friend, Charlie, was a bit of a wild child who wanted to stick out from her huge family. You are a little impressed that the child was the one who opened your eyes to that reality - \n\n<center>//poor Charlie, struggling to be unique in a sea of brothers and sisters...//</center>\nthey thought one day, while consoling Charlie after her parent's missed her in the school play.\n\nA few other friends were at the house, and things got rowdy. Charlie's older brother brought in some alcohol. While Charlie and the others looked excited and started taking shots, the child was very nervous.\n\n<center>//I can't...I won't...oh god...why did I come here. I don't want to be here.//</center>\n\nTheir breathing quickened again. You thought you would try to get them to drink, as a challenge, but really only half-heartedly. You thought you would be incredibly lucky to change their mind. And you didn't.\n\nThe child did not drink, and kept herself in a corner. As usual, she had brought a book to read.\n\nAlthough the girl was predictable, you weren't, and when you could influence her, it was grand. But all in all, she kept out of trouble and kept you both sane.\n\n[[A blessing for you both|Ten]]

With all of their lumps, patches, even the funny smells, you cannot help but awe in their presence. This live creature will one day make decisions that could end their own life. It is an astounding thing to realize. \n\nYou quietly look forward to the [[future|Four]].

So you will influence the child's life. It feels like what you were meant to do. And as you follow neither Allah nor Shaitan, it really is your choice to make.\n\nBut will sending your thoughts always work?\n\n[[Let's find out|Nine]].

The baby cries itself hoarse, even after they are put in the incubator to rest. The father goes to sleep, and the mother more instantly. Everyone is too tired to act, so maybe what you did was right.\n\n[[Maybe? You can't really know yet|Three]].

Djinn Story

As you cling to their back, you reach over and shove your hands into their mouth. They do not stop crying. You can feel them, hear them, and sense their thoughts, but you physically have no effect on them.\n\n[[Damn|Three]].

You remember a time a couple of years ago when you tried to rile her up to do something potentially catastrophic.\n\nThe child's relationship with their parents was always shaky. The distance created when they were a child stuck into young adulthood, and the child kept many secrets.\n\nYacub said many racist things, even about Farah's Pakistani family. He reverted to Islam when they got married, but you and the child both agreed, albeit quietly, that he missed the spirit of the Ummah. The child would get especially upset when they saw Farah get upset about Yacub's offensive commentary.\n\nOne day, the family was vacationing in Mauritius while Yacub went to a conference. Both parents took the child to a nature reserve where there were monkeys on display, as they knew at least that the child loved animals.\n\n"Look!" cried out Yacub. "Look, Farah! Your relatives are here!" He pointed at one of the monkeys that was native to Mauritius. He had seen monkeys on their visit to Pakistan and it was his new favourite joke.\n\nFarah took a deep breath and sighed slowly as if it would diffuse her anger. The child's blood was pumping.\n\n<center>//God, does he have to do that every time? Fuck. There goes this trip. //</center>\nThe child has never stood up for themselves. You lay your hand on the child's head as you try and try to get them to rise up, just to see what would happen. What an interesting family dynamic that would make!\n\nBut, as you try and ease them into this action, they resist.\n\n<center>//I won't ruin this trip any more, as much as I want to...and I really, really want to tell him to fuck off, so bad...but Mom...//</center>\n\nThought you understand her reasoning, you regret not being able to see Yacub's reaction.\n\n[[Well, there is always next time|Ten]].

In the end, the little one tends to have more interesting thoughts than experiences. They have quite the active imagination - mostly fuelled by the many books they read. It seems like they read a new book every day, even forgoing homework to continue the latest in some fantasy saga. It makes their grades go down, but you don't think they are losing out on an education. You find it entertaining, and you believe it could mean a lot for their mental well-being. \n\nThe child seems constantly anxious, which you can feel every time. Sometimes, you even feel worried about them.\n\nThere is something that you notice brings a more exuberant quality to them - the child has a deep fascination with Bollywood movies. They don't speak the language very well, but you know of their deep love and desire to be in one of those movies. They secretly try to learn the dances when no one else is around. Their favourite hero is a handsome, muscular romantic who would do anything for the heroine. You find the child's obsession sweet, even though it is kept from everyone else.\n\n[[Everyone, except you, which brings up few concerns|Five]].

<center>//Should I? But...no. I can't. I don't want to think about my parents right now...ugh, but I always do. Screw them.//</center>\nyou hear them think, and you actually start to think that they'll do it and you are filled with excitement. Yes! Finally, the child will get what they have deserved - a chance at love.\n\nHowever, you are soon disappointed.\n\n<center>//I...I can't do it, though. What if she thinks I'm a creep? What if...oh God, if she tells someone...and mom finds out...//</center>\n\nYou are surprised at their fortitude. They usually gave in to an opportunity to touch - they could never get enough of it, and you felt that what you wanted them to do wasn't asking much, not for them. But, they resisted. They were so scared of their parents.\n\nHow will they ever be happy if they don't accept who they are? This always frustrated you. And you know that the child is anything but happy. There are bursts of excitement and some laughter, but happiness was not on the table.\n\n[[Dejected, you know you will try another time|Ten]].\n

"No, I don't want you to go, Sam, I don't! I love you, let's just--I'm sorry if I--" they started.\n\n"But you aren't sorry," Sam breathed out, obviously angry. You feel tense with excitement and dread both. "You honestly think I am some racist bigot out to get you. I don't know why. I love your culture, I want to be a part of it. I love it because I love you - the most amazing woman I've ever met."\n\n"But--but--you aren't part of my culture," they blurted out. You felt their cheeks flushing with blood. They wished they hadn't said that.\n\n"I know, and you'll <b>NEVER</b> let me forget it! I don't have much of a culture--"\n\n"Yes you do. You're an American. It's fine. I love what you are, stop trying to be something else." The child bit their lip so hard you could almost feel the pain.\n\nHe quietly sighed. The child sat down next to them, but none of them said a word. He got up eventually to go to the bathroom and the child was left to wipe away tears.\n\nThings were awkward for the rest of the night. The next morning, the child awoke to the smell of banana pancakes - cooked by Sam. He sheepishly walked in with a tray and coffee. The child smiled.\n\nAfter apologising and admitting that he knows nothing about what it is like to be her, the child felt a lot better. It seemed that there was hope for their future. \n\nFor the next year or so, things were extremely rocky. Sometimes, it felt like he had done no learning at all. Sometimes, he was their strongest support. However, he could never relate to some things about them, and this made some arguments difficult. The child also had trouble finding the right things to say at certain moments. After a relationship of about 5 years, the couple split peacefully.\n\nBy this time, the child had a job doing filing and data entry at a small law firm. It paid decently enough that they could afford a medium-sized apartment, which they filled with more books and two cats. They were content. However, being content did not mean they would be happy. And they weren't happy. They tried to see a therapist, but that particular therapist was unhelpful and tried to convince them that they should start dating again, that their unhappiness was due to loneliness. They were not ready to date, although they tried, and soon the child was done with that path.\n\nAll too suddenly, real tragedy struck. They got laid off from the office job because of budget cuts, and they eventually lost the cats, and the apartment. With no relationship with their family, they were hesitant to ask their parents for help. However, they felt they didn't have much choice - and they wanted to try and keep on living. You had never felt such determination to live before, not coming from this child.\n\nYacub and Farah, still living together but in Canada this time, welcomed them with open arms. "There's our little girl!" Yacub said at the sight of her, tears in his eyes. You could tell he missed her. Farah said nothing but hugged her child, the warmth radiating straight to you.\n\nOne day, when the child was on a long walk across Vancouver with their headphones on, they couldn't hear a car coming from the cross street. In one hit, the child was unconscious - and when they finally took their last breath a minute later, you were gone. You didn't have time to think about what your influences meant.\n\n<center><big> THE END. </big></center>

Finally, the baby falls asleep. The nurses are content with this and leave the child and their parents to rest after hours of labour. \n\nYou look at the baby. Their skin is so pale, but you find patches of darker skin all over their body, like a child's drawing of a cow. Their eyelashes are long, thick, and darkest black - like their eyes, when opened. Their tiny fingers keep grasping, but at what? Some imaginary teat, you suppose. They make little gurgles with their mouth.\n\nIs the baby [[beautiful|Beauty]] or [[hideous|Ugly]]?

Ya Allah, this thing is uglier than a moldy piece of bread. You are slightly repulsed by the child - they are already drooling out of their mouth, and the smells coming from them are vile. You will have to endure their awkward nature for a while - and you are unsure that such awkwardness will end.\n\nThere may not be much to look forward to in the [[future|Four]].

<center><big>The teenage years</big></center>\n\nYou have been through this child's life for 18 years now, but they are no longer a child at all. Through all the growing pains, you have been able to mostly influence the child.\n\nThere were times, especially as they physically matured more and more, when you tried to influence them but they completely rejected you. What do you feel about that?\n\nIt hurt a lot. [[You wanted what was best for them|Best]].\nIt was irritating, but you like a challenge. [[You wanted to feel the extent of what you could do|Me]].\nIt never truly mattered. [[Neither of these are important. You only played when necessary|Play]].

You place one of your hands on the child's head and whisper into their ear. Their feelings do change.\n\n<center>//Um...I should just say I am American, right? I mean, it's simpler that way. Or I can just say I am Pakistani and American, that's easy too.//</center>\n\nYou've done it! They're picking out options that are related to what you whispered!\n\n"I'm Pakistani and American because my mom is from Pakistan and my dad is from America," they finally answer, meekly. \n\nAmeerah smiles at the child. They feel so much relief and even you are impressed by that positive energy.\n\n"Andrea's parents are Spanish and American! It's so cool, you guys are so lucky" Ameerah says. The child smiles back.\n\n<center>//I don't really feel lucky about that...but I think I'm making a friend!//</center>\n\n[[What does this control mean in the long run|Seven]]?

You decide it is best to passively experience their life. You watch every moment, cringe at every failing, sigh at every mistake. There is nothing you will do, and you stick to your resolve. The child ends up getting help for depression, but has plenty of ups and downs along the way. Finally, they die at a relatively young age, 64, of lung cancer. It is a peaceful death surrounded by their brother and sisters. You leave their back as they pass away. You think that you did well.\n\nOn the day of judgment, we shall see what Allah has in store for you. But that time isn't now - onto the next.\n\n<center><big> THE END. </big> </center>

Whatever it means, it will definitely affect the child's life. You don't know if that is good or bad. Or do you?\n\n[[It's fine, I can help them|Eight]].\n[[It's fine, I can have fun|Eight]].\n[[It isn't fine, and I won't do it|End1]].

The child listens to you. "Leave, Sam. This is over." they said, with tears running down their face. You know this is the right thing for them. You also know that things will get much more interesting as they fend for themselves. Life is about to change for the both of you.\n\nSadly, the rest of their life was not very long at all. As they were pretty much estranged from their parents, there was no financial support from them. They did not ask for any because they felt too ashamed. Yacub and Farah didn't even know about Sam's existence. \n\nThe child couldn't find an apartment, so they had to sell most of their things. They sobbed uncontrollably after selling their last book, a first edition of The Golden Compass her brother had gifted to her years ago. They almost couldn't let it go, but things were desperate and it made decent money.\n\nThey did not have a job either, so soon after running out of money staying in a motel, they had to move to a homeless shelter. It was clean, and the workers there were strict but kind. The child mostly kept to themself but was constantly thinking of suicide. There, they met an opiate dealer who offered to give them some peace. They took the opportunity, but had no income to continue. They worked odd jobs to fuel that addiction whenever they could.\n\nOne day, when particularly high, there was a terrible accident. You didn't notice the car either. At 29, the child, <b>your</b> child, died almost instantly as they were thrown over the car that hit them.\n\nYou barely had time to regret that you had influenced the decision that brought their downfall.\n\n<center><big> THE END. </big></center>

<center><big>Adulthood</big></center>\n\nAt 27 years old, the child was no longer a child, but it still seemed that way. The changes in their psyche, however great from an outside perspective, were small from the inside. One thing did not change - the child was still unhappy. In fact, it seemed like things just got worse in their life.\n\nFirst of all, they finished college in an economy where the jobs were few and the qualifications demanded of job-seekers were nearly impossible. The child chose to study Art History, a field that was selective, impatient, and brutal. Their anxiety caused them to leave the field and study literature instead, where they hoped to become an academic. But, it was an old, white man's world, so academia was as cruel as any other workforce.\n\nSoon, the child found themself living in a cramped room with their boyfriend, Sam. He was an American who had done some travelling, including Pakistan. He said that the child reminded him of his travels. He loved them for it, he kept saying. "My exotic queen," he would call them.\n\n<center>//I've lived my last 10 years here. How am I exotic?//</center>\nthey thought every time he used that word. It was beginning to enrage them underneath the passive mask.\n\nOne day, there was a huge fight. Much to your surprise, the child blurted out that they were done with his creeping racism, his exoticisation. They had started to follow people on social media platforms such as Twitter and Tumblr and were finding the words to call him out on the behaviours that displeased them. \n\nDuring that fight, he shouted: "If you hate what I am so much, I'll pack all my shit and leave! If I am some white devil and you can't stand me, I'll let you out of this so-called Hell where all I've done is love you!"\n\n<center>//If I let him leave, I'll lose him...and I still love him. I don't know why, I just love him. But he hurts me SO much! I can't bear it. I wish there was someone to tell me what to do. I can't afford this apartment on my own, I'll have to leave as well. My life is going to change forever, what do I do? Oh God, Allah, whoever up there...what do I do? I'm hopeless.//</center>\n\nThe child rarely ever called out to Allah. You know this is serious.\n\nWhat do you whisper in their ear?\n\n"This man is racist and manipulative. It's time for your life to change - [[tell him to leave once and for all."|End2]]\n"He isn't worth losing - they love each other, and he just needs more time to understand. [[Urge him to stay and work things out|End3]]"\n

<center>//My parents are always telling me what to do, but they do know what is best, right? I mean, it goes against Islam...//</center>\nthe child thinks to themself, looking at Rose with so much pain in their eyes it moves you. You see that look much too often. But you know what is best. You know it will only end in failure.\n<center>//But...they've got to be wrong. They have to be. This is love, I know it!//</center>\n\nYou are extremely surprised when the child reaches out and touches Rose softly on the cheek, smiling. She pulls in closer, and Rose leans in, slowly closing her eyes.\n\nYou can't believe what you've seen. The child is a sinner! She is condemned...or is she? You yourself start to feel torn, for Allah has never spoken to you directly.\n\n[[Maybe you can steer her in the right direction later...|Ten]]

You place one of your hands on the child's head and whisper into their ear. Their feelings do change.\n\n<center>//Well, I guess I should just tell them the truth. Who cares?//</center>\n\nThe child is trying to bolster itself internally. What comes out is a little stammering, and lengthy. However, you are pleased to see that you have done something to influence them!\n\n"Um well my dad is American and my mom is Pakistani but I grew up in Saudi, America, France, and now here Oman. So...I'm from..." they trail off and chuckle slightly under the stress. "I don't know?"\n\nAmeerah purses her lips and frowns with her eyebrows. "Everyone has somewhere. You can't be from nowhere." She turns around and faces the blackboard, thinking to herself. You sense very clearly that the child is worried they said something to upset Ameerah and they cannot concentrate on anything else.\n\n[[Did you influence them the wrong way? What does this mean|Seven]]?

<center><big>The child has grown</big> </center>\n\nYou have hung onto this child's back for 8 years now. You have gotten used to them and their ways. They tend to read and enjoy the company of cats more than other children. The latter absolutely delights you, because cats and Djinn can communicate with each other. Sometimes, you share observations with them.\n\nThe child's parents are Yacub and Farah. Yacub, you learn, is a moderately wealthy businessman who moves about every 3 years with a wanderlust difficult to describe. Farah is a passionate schoolteacher who loves children. They have 2 daughters, including the child you cling onto, and one son. You notice that the child seems to be confused by being around girls; feeling completely unable to relate on more than one occasion. \n\nThe child tends to stay away from the others in the family and at school. Every chance they get, they hide away in their room and get lost for hours in their own thoughts. They tended to talk out loud about what was happening in their heads, to imaginary friends they were completely aware weren't there. They also loved to read.\n\n[[It's boring|Annoyance]].\n[[It's better that way|Comfort]].

Khadeja

You remember a time when it particularly pained you to see them reject your plan for them.\n\nThe child was biologically female and tended to identify as such in terms of gender. However, when it came to attraction, they were not limited to the opposite gender - what Allah wanted, according to most interpretations. They were always conflicted, but you believed they should be who they were completely in order to maintain positive self-image. The child always pushed back on this.\n\nOne crush the child had was on a female classmate named Rose, a British-Trinidadian girl who was one year older. They both went to the same school in central London. She taught the child how to smoke, what patties were, and how to dance the Dollar Wine.\n\nOne day, Rose was hanging out with the child after school, alone. \n\n<center>//I just want...//</center>\nand instead of words, images flashed into the child's mind. Hands holding, lips kissing, and then breath escaping the mouth. It was obvious what they wanted, but then there was\n<center>//I can't.//</center>\n\nYou want what is best for the child. So, you tell her to...\n\n[[Just stroke her cheek. That's it. Come on. Be happy.|Do]]\n[[Hold back. What would your parents think? This could end badly.|Don't]]