...Disclaimer: Story includes blood, violence, weapons. This is for entertainment purposes only....

......................

My eyes snap open.

Beautiful blood red eyes stare into mine, hands pin my body to the bed.

A jinn.

Another sleep paralysis.

I cannot move. Usually, I would scream. I would cry. I would pray. Then I would wake up. But this time I smile.

The figure smiles and bows low. It fades away. I laugh and stay trapped in the dream. Then I see that to my left, blood stains my white bedsheets.

I used to hate blood. But for some reason, it looks beautiful now. I get up and see my unfinished paper boats scattered on my desk. Then I see my sister. Mun lays face-down on the carpet. I go kneel beside her. Suddenly a metallic smell hits me.

A knife rests next to her, drowning in a red puddle. I pick it up. Bloody fingerprints mark the handle. My hands fit them perfectly. I roll Mun over. Her stomach gapes like the frog we dissected in chemistry.

I should cry. I should yell. I should pray.

But I don't.

A smile spread across my face.

I laugh.

Then I cry.

Not because I was sad.

But because I felt guilty for feeling happy.

I go to the master bedroom and see a picture of me with my birth family. I look at my brown eyes that were once innocent. I turn away.

More red pools on the floor. Two bodies lie there. My birth mother. My birth father. I touch the blood. The crimson liquid covers my brown hands. I smile again. My eyes smile with tears. A bittersweet victory.

I cry. Not because of my red hands. I cry because of them. They painted me red first. Every bruise. Every scream.

I sit on my parents bed and try to wake up. But for some reason, I can't. Sleep paralysis never lasted this long before. I go to the bathroom, yellow eyes. Huma's eyes.

No more laughing happened.

No more crying.

And no more smiling.

I collapse onto the bloodstained floor.

"What happened?" I whisper.

"You happened," Huma says in my head.

"I never wanted this."

"Yes, you did," she replies.

"I didn't do this."

"Yes, you did." she whispers.

The calligraphy of Allah's 99 names hangs above me on the wall.

I painted it once.

With hands that have never touched blood. With hands that worshiped.

The painting stares at me mockingly. I look out the window and see the roses on our yard starting to blossom. It's spring now. The birds are singing their usual prayers.

But me?

Praying?

I don't pray anymore. I'm almost afraid to. How could Allah listen to me when I'm covered in the blood of his creation. There's no going back. Damon was right. Nobody is truly pure on this earth.

My name means "gift from Allah," but that feels like a lie now. A curse.

But there was a time I would, a time when paper boats floated on dreams. Not blood. I close my eyes and think back to that time.

So close, yet so far away.

......................

...Eyes of Iodine...

...Yves Aesa...

...New chapters posted every Friday....

...****************...

...who is Allah?...

...Allah is another name for God that people follow in the religion we know as islam....

...What are jinns?...

...jinns were the creation that Allah made before humans, Satan is considered a jinn. They still exist today but are unseen by the normal human eye....

...There are good Jinns and bad Jinns. They have powers to cause harm or do good....