Patima

“So, how can I help you today?” Sahar asked, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. She adjusted her glasses and crossed her legs as she sat in her chair.

“I see and hear an entity that no one else can see. It’s always near me,” Patima replied from the sofa, where she was lying with her arms folded.

“I see,” Sahar said thoughtfully, tapping the end of her pen against her chin before jotting something down on the clipboard. “Is it here right now?” she asked.

Patima nodded.

“What does this...” Sahar hesitated, searching for the right word, “entity look like?”

“He’s very tall. I think he’s a Jinn. He’s neither physical nor entirely invisible, just a dark shadow, always standing to my right,” Patima explained.

Sahar’s lips tightened into a thin line as she scribbled more notes.

“And you said you can hear this entity too?” she asked.

“Yes,” Patima said. “He speaks to me sometimes, promising me a better life if I agree to his terms.” She paused, her voice shaking slightly. “But I refuse every time because he won’t tell me his terms until I agree.”

“Interesting,” Sahar murmured. “And when did you first start seeing this Jinn?”

“My whole life I guess, but it has gotten worse since Kasim’s birth,” Patima admitted quietly.

“A year?” Sahar exclaimed, her voice rising slightly. “Can Kasim see him too?”

“No, I don’t think he can see him,” Patima replied.

Sahar began to laugh. “Alright, good exercise. You can get up now, Patima,” she said, still giggling.

Patima sat up, smiling.

“Thanks for the role-play,” Sahar said with a grin. “I hope I don’t get complex cases like that! That sounds terrifying. Can you imagine if it were real?” She chuckled again, and Patima nodded.

“I’m glad you’ll be receiving your degree soon,” Patima said warmly. “Congratulations again. I’m so happy you’re starting your own practice.”

“Thank you!” Sahar replied, her face lighting up. “I’m so excited. All those years of hard work finally paying off.”

“I can’t believe we graduated with our bachelor’s at the same time,” Patima said wistfully. “And look at you...a soon-to-be psychiatrist, and me...” She trailed off as Kasim’s cries came from the next room.

“I guess he’s up from his nap,” Patima said as she rushed to soothe her son. She returned moments later, holding Kasim on her left hip, gently swaying to calm him down.

“Being a homemaker is hard,” Sahar said with admiration. “I don’t know how you do it. Do you and your husband still live in that apartment in Falls Church?”

“Yes,” Patima answered, a little embarrassed. “The same one.”

The one-bedroom apartment had been a starter home when Patima and her husband first married. Six years later, they were still there. Patima, with no income as a stay-at-home mom, and Farhad, who worked in ride-share, couldn’t afford to move.

Patima quietly observed Sahar’s beautifully decorated new townhome. The four-bedroom home in Herndon was spacious and elegant. She knew it must be worth at least half a million dollars. Sahar had married just a year ago, and her husband, Abdul, a newly minted medical doctor, had a lucrative career. With Sahar about to start her own practice, the couple were very financially secure.

Patima had come to congratulate her friend on her completion of her MD and the purchase of their new home. Earlier that day, she’d awkwardly climbed the stairs of her friend’s new home, carrying Kasim on one hip and a housewarming gift from Ross in her other hand. Now, looking around at Sahar’s décor, she felt embarrassed about her modest gift and hoped Sahar wouldn’t open it until after she left.

It was a cold Friday afternoon in November. Farhad had left early in the morning for his routes. Since they only had one car, he had returned around noon to take Patima to Ross to buy the gift and then dropped her off at Sahar’s home around one. Sahar had been a gracious host, cooking several dishes and serving dessert. Patima’s stomach felt as if it might burst.

After lunch, Sahar had insisted they role-play as psychiatrist and patient. Patima fondly remembered playing pretend as a child in her home country. Patima and Sahar were from the same country, but while Sahar had immigrated to America at age six with her family, Patima had arrived by herself at seventeen on a student visa. Alone in a new country, she had quickly found a friend in Sahar.

Patima had big plans back then, finishing her finance degree and earning an MBA. But everything had changed when she met Farhad at a community event. They married soon after her graduation, and through him, she gained her U.S. citizenship. Like her, Farhad was from the same country, but he had immigrated to the United States with his parents at a young age as well.

Farhad hadn’t finished college himself, hoping to make it big as a tech entrepreneur. When that failed, he turned to ride-share while figuring out his next steps. His parents, who owned a fairly lucrative restaurant, occasionally helped out, and Farhad often claimed he’d inherit his father’s business one day and be set for life. As for Patima, unfortunately, Farhad didn’t believe she should work after Kasim was born.

Patima glanced at Sahar, who sat poised with her perfect black hair, flawless makeup, and designer clothes. She looked down at her own forty-five-dollar outfit and felt her cheeks flush. She hadn’t had time for makeup, and her dark brown hair was a tangled mess.

The sound of a car horn startled her. She jumped, causing Kasim to cry again.

“That’s Farhad,” Patima said, trying to calm her son. “I should get going.”

“Oh,” Sahar said. “Ask him to come in. My husband should be home soon, we can hang out a bit more.”

“No, it’s alright,” Patima said quickly. “Farhad has to work.”

“Well,” Sahar said with a smile, “thanks for visiting. It’s been too long. You should come over more often.”

“You and your husband should come by as well,” Patima offered.

“Of course,” Sahar replied.

The repeated sound of honking made it clear Farhad was losing patience.

“I have to go,” Patima said, gathering her things and shifting Kasim on her hip.

#

“When I honk the horn once,” Farhad complained as Patima fastened Kasim into his car seat, “you should come out running. Why did you make me wait so long?”

“We were just saying our goodbyes,” Patima replied, checking to make sure Kasim was secure before walking to the passenger side and taking her seat.

“You women and your prolonged goodbyes,” Farhad muttered, shaking his head as he revved the engine and took off, jostling everyone in the car.

“I wish you’d drive more carefully,” Patima said quietly.

“Here comes the nagging,” Farhad snapped, pressing down on the accelerator.

“I’m not nagging,” Patima said softly. “I was just...” Her voice trailed off; she knew there was no point in arguing.

#

“By the way,” Farhad said as Patima unfastened Kasim and took him out of the car. The afternoon traffic had made it so they got back to their apartment an hour after leaving Sahar’s. Kasim had lasted the first forty minutes before beginning to cry for the last stretch of the trip. Patima was grateful to have finally arrived back home.

“Yes?” Patima said, placing Kasim on her left hip again.

“I’ll be home late today,” Farhad said. “After the rest of my shift, I’m going to meet up with the boys for some fun,” he added with a smile.

“But you were with your boys yesterday,” Patima replied.

“And?” Farhad said. “You were with your stupid friend today. I took time off from my busy day, mind you, to take you shopping and lug you around back and forth. Don’t you think I deserve some downtime after working all day?”

Patima sighed. “Can I ask that you don’t come home too drunk this time?”

“Stop nagging,” Farhad shot back.

“Did you get the eggs I asked you to get?” Patima asked, changing the subject. She didn’t want to stand outside arguing with her husband. She knew that if she pushed it, his voice would get louder, and that would be embarrassing in public.

“Here,” he said, grabbing something from the back of the car and casually throwing it onto the passenger seat. Patima bent down to pick it up and saw that he had purchased a half-dozen eggs.

“Half-dozen?” Patima said, surprised.

“What?” Farhad said. “That’s all I could find.” Patima always knew when he was lying. She knew he just didn’t want to make the effort of going to the grocery store and had probably picked up the eggs from a gas station or a 7-Eleven somewhere.

“Kasim loves eggs for breakfast, and so do you,” Patima said. “This will last, what, one morning?” she said, annoyed.

“Listen,” Farhad said, “you asked for eggs, and you got eggs. Now take it and get back inside. I have to get back to work,” he yelled. Several passersby looked over at them when they heard his raised voice. Patima looked around anxiously. She didn’t want to escalate things. Quickly, she picked up the half-dozen eggs and walked back into her apartment.

#

Patima woke up to Kasim’s crying. She looked at the clock next to her bed, it was 5 AM. Her alarm was set for 5:10 AM, so she was grateful to have woken up at her usual time, rather than earlier. She turned to see that Farhad had not slept next to her. She rolled her eyes. Often, when he came home after a night out, he would be too drunk to make it to the bedroom, falling asleep on their living room floor or sofa instead.

Since they only had a one-bedroom apartment, Kasim’s bed was not far from where Patima was sleeping. She quickly jumped off the bed, picked up her son, and soothed him. She then walked out of the bedroom into their combined dining and living room area. As she expected, Farhad was snoring softly on the sofa. She walked back to her bedroom, used the attached bathroom, changed Kasim, washed up and got ready for the day.

Patima then walked into the kitchen to make scrambled eggs for Kasim and an omelet for Farhad. Farhad often left for work early in the morning, although she wasn’t sure if he would be able to today, given that he would definitely have a hangover. She opened the fridge and remembered she only had six eggs. She decided to make a three-egg omelet for Farhad and one scrambled egg for Kasim, leaving two eggs for the rest of the day in case Kasim wanted more. The sizzling sound of the pan woke Farhad up.

“Too much noise,” Farhad mumbled from where he lay. He got up and went into their bedroom to get ready.

Farhad quickly got dressed and ready for the day, then walked out of the bedroom and ruffled Kasim’s hair as a greeting. He then sat down at the dining table, where he always sat, looking at social media on his phone. The married couple did not exchange any words as Patima placed the omelet in front of Farhad. She then went back to the stove to quickly make Kasim’s scrambled egg.

“What is this?” Farhad said, a hint of agitation in his voice, finally looking up from his phone to his food.

“Your omelet,” Patima replied.

“Only three eggs?” Farhad asked.

“Well, you got me six,” Patima said, annoyed, putting the now-finished scrambled egg into Kasim’s favorite bowl.

“This is a good breakfast to you?” Farhad asked, looking down at his eggs.

“If you had bought more,” Patima replied, “I’d have made more. Maybe next time I ask you to buy eggs, you could buy a normal amount,” she added, now sitting down in front of Kasim to feed him.

“With everything I do, this is my measly breakfast?” Farhad said, anger rising in his voice.

“Farhad,” Patima said calmly, trying to calm the situation, “I will make you the biggest omelet once we do the grocery shopping and buy more eggs.”

Farhad got up from the table angrily, carrying the omelet in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Patima asked.

“I’m not eating this,” Farhad said. “I’m going out to eat,” he said, walking over to the kitchen.

“Go ahead,” Patima replied, annoyed. “Just leave the omelet on the kitchen counter. I’ll eat it,” she added.

Keeping eye contact with Patima, Farhad stepped on the push pedal of the trash can, opened the lid, and slid the omelet inside.

“Why did you do that?” Patima asked.

Farhad didn’t respond; he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Patima shook her head in disbelief, tears streaming down her face. She quickly wiped them away, putting on a fake smile as she asked Kasim to open his mouth for his breakfast.

My offer still stands, the shadow said in his raspy, deep voice.

Patima ignored the voice. She hadn’t heard that voice for months now, though she always saw the dark shadow off to her right every day, always in her peripheral vision.

You can’t ignore me forever, the scary voice said.

Patima continued to feed her child.

You told your friend about me, he said.

Patima knew better than to answer. After a year of hearing the voice in her head and seeing the shadow, she had learned to cope by simply not responding. Instead, she would shake her head to dismiss it, believing this as the best way to prevent her condition from worsening. Patima had never shared this with anyone. Her first attempt was yesterday, but she had pretended it was made up. She knew if she shared, they would institutionalize her, and she’d lose Kasim.Just don’t answer him, and he’ll stop talking. It’s just your imagination. Ignore him.She repeatedly told herself in her mind.

Do you not crave happiness? the voice said.I can shape Farhad into what you desire.

Kasim finished his eggs, so Patima put on the TV for him to watch his favorite show and placed some toys around him as she started to clean up. She didn’t feel like eating after everything that had happened and because she had begun to hear the voice again. She decided to make coffee, hoping the caffeine would clear her head and make it stop.

How long will you cling to this hollow existence? Is this the life you dreamt of?the Jinn asked, his deep voice dripping with mockery.

Patima slammed her cup down on the counter as she poured coffee into it.

“He is not real,” she said aloud, putting the hot coffee to her lips. “He is not real,” she repeated.

I am very real. I’m right here, the voice continued.

“Please go away!” Patima yelled, looking directly at the shadow. The voice fell silent.