Tapping her pen against the paper, Nadira stared at her notes. Everything she found was so contradictory to each other. In Islamic texts, a djinn could be seen as a type of angel or even a devil, while in Chinese mythology they were described as "Xian," a spontaneous, childlike spirit, untouched by the elements. None of it made any sense when she thought of Idrak. Childlike and angelic would not be at all what she would associate to the deep voice that spoke in her head.
Shutting that book, Nadira placed it on the pile of books she finished and reached for the last remaining book.
"If you want to know more about me, why not simply ask?" Idrak hummed in her ear.
Tapping the tip of her pen against her open notebook, leaving a tiny cloud of black dots in its wake, she tried to appear indifferent to his sudden presence as she replied. "I like to come to my own conclusions, thank you," she replied sharply.
"Regardless of the source lying against your breasts?"
"Yes," she said stiffly, now very aware of the warm stone laying against her chest. "Especially when I just read that djinn are said to be very mischievous, being born of fire and that love nothing more than playing tricks on people."
"Ah, but keep in mind my sweet Nadira," the stone vibrated against her. "History has always been written by the victors, never the persecuted."
And though she could not see him or even begin to imagine what he looked like, she thought of him raising a dark eyebrow as he said that.
Knowing she was never going to win at a verbal spar with the creature, she let out a deep breath and leaned one elbow against the table as she flipped to the next page. "The fact that I am still here researching, and you are still hanging around my neck should show that I have already given you the benefit of the doubt."
"Or that you are just as lonely as I and mischievous or not, you are not willing to let me go so easily," he quipped.
More than a little annoyed, she stuffed the stone down her shirt, hoping that he would smother and shut up.
The deep bark of laughter told her immediately her attempt failed. "Is this your idea of punishment?" he asked. "Lying on the top of your soft bare breasts? Then please, I beg of you, my darling, never spare me from your cruelty."
"Fine, you want to help out?" she said, snatching the necklace around her neck, feeling acutely warm from his embarrassing words. Dangling it in front of her face, she was thankful she decided to sit with her back facing the exposed half glass wall and door, she was sure people would think her insane if they saw her glaring and arguing with her necklace. "Are you finally ready to tell me how you got trapped in this stone?"
Idrak said nothing, leaving her suspended in awkward silence.
"I thought so," she mumbled under her breath with a small snort, before looking back to the page and scribbling down another line that stuck out to her. Just like when she asked earlier, silence was her only answer.
So far, the voice—the djinn—had been pretty obliging towards her, always replying back with his dark, gravelly voice to anything she said and sometimes talking to her when she said nothing at all, but never to that question. Curiosity danced along her mind as she imagined herself being trapped within an object. How did one even do that? Flesh and bone somehow being transported into a stone, it was too much for her brain to make sense of. She craved answers. Although, as much as she craved those answers, she empathized for the being locked inside the stone, how awful it must be to be trapped in a stone for…
Unable to finish the thought, she looked back at the stone curiously. "How long have you been in there…if you don’t mind me asking?"
"Ah, let me see," he thought aloud, and she imagined him holding his chin in his palm as he recalled, although when she imagined him, she could only ever imagine a rough silhouette of a man and nothing more.
"I have been sitting in here since the start of the third Burma war."
"Burma?" she repeated, confusion evident in her tone. Letting her mind repeat the word over and over again, her stomach suddenly dropped as she realized what it was that had stuck out about the word.
Grabbing her phone, she hastily typed in the information and stopped as the results stared back at her on the bright screen.
"Idrak," she whispered his name, almost too stunned to speak. "No one calls it that anymore, it's called Myanmar now."
"That is not surprising," he replied casually. "I have seen many empires fall and change their titles under the new rule."
"No," she shook her head. "No, I mean you…you have…" She took a steadying breath and tried again, unsure of how to relay the news. "This means you have been locked in that stone since 1885."
There was a beat of silence before he answered as if he was expecting her to say more.
"Do you want me to be shocked?" he asked mockingly. "Should I yell and rage or would you like for me to do something you’re more familiar with and sit here and cry."
Flinching at the hurtful words, Nadira felt her chest hollow under the assault. "I was just shocked," she began in a whisper.
"Do you not think I know this?" he growled back. "I have been trapped here, waiting in the dark as the sounds of the world pass me by." Each word dripped with a venomous anger so fiery and filled with resentment Nadira could feel her palms turn clammy under her building fear. "But it does not matter, time is meaningless to me. While you age along with the world, I will remain the same."
Lowering her head, Nadira stared at the table, her eyes unseeingly tracing the woodgrain of the surface as she replayed his piercing words. The silence of the small room stuck out now, serving to remind her with each second that passed how utterly alone and hurt she felt in that moment. Gathering her things, she neatly stacked the books she wanted to return back to the collection and grabbed the remaining book she had not finished reading. Picking the stone necklace off the table, Nadira reluctantly put it around her neck, feeling sad and relieved when she did not hear his voice.
The drive home was silent. Turning the radio down, Nadira found herself hoping he would speak again and angry at herself for wanting it. She should be the one that was angry. She should be the one giving the silent treatment, not him. It was obvious she wasn't trying to insult him, right? Tapping her fingers against the steering wheel nervously, she grimaced as she recalled her words. Maybe it was too insensitive. He must have thought she was trying to rub salt in the proverbial wound about his prison sentence. Feeling even worse, she parked her car outside her house and walked up the cracked and broken sidewalk.
For the remainder of the night, she went back and forth with herself as the stone remained silent. It ate at her knowing that she hurt him, but each time she opened her mouth to speak, her pride reminded her that she should not forget the cruel words he spat effortlessly at her. Walking into the bathroom, she pulled off the stone and covered it with a small towel on the bathroom sink. After undressing and showering, she wrapped herself in her robe and stopped in front of the counter. Pulling back the small hand towel, she stared at the stone. Nadira could feel it beckon towards her, silently commanding her to put on the necklace. Glancing up to the mirror, Nadira looked back at her unhappy expression. Pushing back the mass of wet black hair, Nadira straightened and clenched her fist at her side. She would not let this djinn or whatever it was emotionally manipulate her after treating her the way that he did. Swiping the necklace into her robe pocket, she exited the bathroom. Setting the necklace on her dresser, she turned her back to it. Taking the time to dry her hair, Nadira forced herself to think of other topics other than the cursed stone. Adding a few thoughtful paragraphs to a paper she had due in a few days, Nadira lost herself in her work until she found herself blessedly tired. Clicking off the light, Nadira laid down with a yawn letting her tired eyes close as she hit the cool pillow.