Chapter 11 #2
Zain began walking a little ahead of me, and it was clear he was still walking slower than he usually would, his legs much longer than mine.
He paused occasionally to catch me if I got too cocky in my boots and almost tripped.
It was very humbling walking toward someone like him while trying not to look out of breath.
I needed to work on getting fitter. I made mental note to start with a throwback Chloe Ting video the next day.
In answer to my question, Zain half shook his head, placing his hands on his hips and sighing. “Not really. I know I should, but not now.”
“Noted. So, you said before you live with your aunt?” I asked, curious.
“Yeah, Khale Nazanin. She’s been in Shiraz the past few months.
My grandmother is sick, and she’s looking after her.
So my mentor Castiel has been kind of my guardian for the time being.
But she’s great and has always been like a mom to me.
I think if she was my actual mom, though, she’d drive me crazy with the number of losers she dates, but… ” He shrugged. “No one’s perfect.”
“I caught my dad flirting with our neighbor last week,” I said, nose wrinkling. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen Penny since. “It was gross to witness, so I can sympathize.”
Zain let out a short, loud laugh. “You’ve only been here, what, a week or so now?”
“I know. Tragic, right?” I said, rolling my neck. While I hadn’t had any dreams the past week, every time I fell asleep, I swore I heard hissing, which woke me up. My bad sleep was catching up with me, and my bones felt like shards of glass, scratching against each other as I moved.
Zain must have noticed this because he asked, “Are you okay?”
I waved my hand in the air. “I’ve been sleeping badly. I always do, though it’s gotten worse since coming here.”
“Why?”
The fact that he was partly involved in why I struggled to sleep meant it was difficult to answer this question. I flicked the hard bits of skin around my nails, considering my next words carefully.
“Have you heard of sleep paralysis?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s basically when you’re in a state between being asleep and awake, and think you’ve woken up but can’t move your body. It’s pretty common, but also terrifying, so, you know, great fun.” This was the line I gave to people to minimize it.
“I see,” he whispered, a sort of glazed look on his face.
“What?”
He snapped out of it then, his eyes soft. “Nothing. So, you can’t physically get up? How long does it last?”
“It’s not always the same, but it’s like my body is paralyzed.
The figure tends to be in the corner of my room.
I don’t really know what he looks like, but he’s always darkly dressed.
” I watched for any flicker of recognition on his face.
“There are snakes, too—they’re often the reason I can’t move.
They pin me down.” Even though it had happened many times to me, and I’d drawn it often enough, I realized I hadn’t spoken about it in detail in a while.
“I’m not sure how long it lasts—it could be five minutes to an hour. ”
After a year of having the dreams, I realized the people around me didn’t want to hear about them anymore, so I stopped telling them the details. They were mine, and mine alone, to bear.
“The figure?” Zain repeated. When I turned, his expression had changed. He was pale, almost, like he was afraid for me. It took me aback.
“The sleep paralysis demon?” I offered feebly. It locked into place then. Everything I knew, had learned. “Do you think…”
It was so obvious, but I couldn’t say it aloud. Do you think it’s real? Do you think the sleep paralysis demon is a jinn?
His eyebrows knitted together.
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. The creeping fear that I was losing my mind transformed. This was something even more sinister, something external, and not just in my head. And I had no way of stopping it—at least, not that I knew of.
We had reached the peak of the hike. To the side of us, a man and presumably his son, who appeared to be no older than Ehsan, were taking pictures of the view.
Zain led the way around the corner, to a crevice in a large bit of rock, which we stood inside. Now, we were inches away from each other. From the outside, we probably looked like a couple wanting a moment together, but the reality was darkly different.
I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding—not only from the exercise, but the anticipation of what Zain was about to say.
His breath tickled my face.
“I don’t think this thing you’ve been seeing is just a figment of your imagination,” he finally said.
“But you said you hadn’t heard of sleep paralysis before.”
“I haven’t, but it sounds like a way for humans to justify seeing jinn in their sleep—or, worse, being possessed by them.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. It was warm yet weighty. Had I not been leaning against the rocks, I might’ve collapsed.
“Roxana, breathe,” he whispered.
I took a deep intake of air and then let it out.
“No one believed me. They all thought I was making it up, but the snakes marked me.” I revealed my faded bruised wrists. “They’ve never caused me to bruise before, but the dreams have gotten weirder. They’re progressing—” I almost said more but pressed my lips together.
Last week, I saw Zain in another time, another century. I had drawn what I could remember of Zain with the castle behind him. I couldn’t, however, draw the man cuffed to the wall, or shake the words this is what happens when you make a deal with Shaitan.
Zain hovered his fingers over my wrist, as soft as a feather. I was hyperaware of him touching me, the nerves in my body excited, even in these circumstances. I forced myself to focus on the red rock behind him.
“What else happens in the dreams?” he asked, his voice soft, reassuring.
I heard murmurs from the boy and his dad, as well as the birds squabbling overhead.
“I have a nightmare of being burnt to death,” I replied. Something told me to withhold parts of my dreams, an instinct I couldn’t ignore.
He nodded. “Interesting.”
“The sleep paralysis usually comes before, though not always.”
“What do you see when you’re being burned?” he asked, his voice neutral, almost too neutral. I narrowed my eyes at him.
His own widened in response. “What?”
“What do you know?”
Zain’s eyes were like stone, until he let out a breathless half laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know something. What, is me being burnt alive a premonition of what’s to come?” I spoke flippantly, but a grim twist to his mouth made my heart drop.
He must’ve noticed this because he quickly said, “No, I’ve just—”
Before he could finish the sentence, the boy from earlier jumped out into the gap between the rocks, shouting, “Boo!” It was so unexpected that I jumped, banging my head against the chalky rocks.
“Fucking hell,” I said before promptly covering my mouth, realizing swearing in front of children was universally frowned upon, even if the child in question was deeply irritating.
His dad followed shortly after, apologizing for his son and taking him away by his wrist.
“Are you okay?” Zain said, reaching for the back of my head. It ached, and when I winced, he added, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I laughed, even though it hurt a little to do that. “No, I’m fine, honestly.”
“You could have a concussion.”
“But I don’t, trust me,” I said quickly, leaving the crevice we had been standing in.
“We’ll need to monitor you for the next twenty-four hours,” he said, following me out, all serious.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that deep.”
“One of my teammates was hospitalized after getting hit in the back of the head. He thought it wasn’t a big deal, either.”
“Are you trying to scare me? Because if you haven’t already gathered, I have a lot going on at the moment.”
After that guilt trip, his resolve softened. “Fine, no hospital, but keep me updated if it gets worse, okay? How many fingers am I holding up?” He raised three.
“Uh, four?” I joked, but when his face crumbled, I realized he didn’t know me well enough to get my humor. “Three, I’m joking!”
He put his arm around my shoulder, an act that took me completely by surprise.
He smelled like fresh air and wind, cool and sweet.
“You are so annoying,” he whispered into my ear.
And with that, I had become a pool of nerves.
It took me a moment to realize he was looking at my head, one hand brushing over the place where it had collided with the rock.
“No cuts,” he murmured. My heart was hammering in my chest at the touch, all the blood rising to my shoulder, my head.
He took his hands away, seemingly satisfied.
The sun was about to set, the sky muted now.
I peered down at the trail below us. “I’m not really looking forward to the walk down,” I said, complaining half-heartedly. “If you really are an angel, can’t you fly us down?” It was another joke. Kind of.
“Well, that’s actually a perfect segue,” Zain began, smirking. “I promised I’d prove to you that I was an angel, didn’t I?”