The Genie

One morning, I woke up after what I thought was a nightmare. In the nightmare, or what I later regarded as a real-time vision, I saw my mother and father asleep in their bed in the middle of the night. It was warm, and their window was open at the top, only by about four inches. Unexpectedly, I noticed a thick, winding fog slowly slip through the window’s gap. As it moved into the room, it hovered at the end of the bed. It was a shimmering shadow of a man’s body. It floated over to my dad, kneeling on his stomach. He woke up, saw the shady figure, and moaned loudly in fear. The figure began to slap his face repeatedly, which wouldn’t stop. My father then let out a massive scream, which I could hear from our bedroom while in my sleep.


On waking, I was surprised to see my mother sitting beside me at the edge of the bed, looking concerned. I was still shaking from the nightmare. My mother had her hand on my face to comfort me, and when she pulled it away, it left an imprint of fingermarks like dark red stains. It looked as if my face had been slapped very hard, but no, there was no pain. The pain I was feeling was my father’s in the memory of the nightmare as it came back to me. It all felt visceral. I could feel fright in my bones. It was an unnerving feeling remembering my dad’s face slapped by this entity. It was also unsettling to have felt the trauma he had gone through at the same time. I went to school that morning with a red hand mark on my face, and pupils asked if one of my parents had slapped me. Not this time, I said. Whenever we discussed the event afterwards, I would call the mysterious foggy shadow the Genie.

Extract from the chapter ‘My Dad, Me and the Genie’ in my forthcoming book, ‘Feral Class’. Image. The Genie. Drawing by Marc Garrett on A4. 2024.


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