"JENNY AND THE GENIE"

Chapter 1: The Girl Who Always Had Bad Luck The sound of the morning alarm pierced through the thin walls of Jenny Reyes’ tiny apartment. She groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around her body, wishing—just for once—that she could wake up without the world plotting against her. But reality had other plans. When she finally stood up, the floor was wet. Her old ceiling had started leaking again. One wrong step and she slipped, crashing to the floor with a loud thud. “Great,” she muttered, rubbing her sore back. “Another lucky day for Jenny Reyes.” Jenny was twenty-five, with long black hair that reached her waist and eyes that reflected both exhaustion and quiet determination. Life hadn’t been kind to her, but she had learned to fight anyway. Every day was a new battle—against time, hunger, bills, and the kind of loneliness that crept in when the world fell asleep. After losing her father when she was just a child—he left her mother without a word—Jenny grew up watching her mother struggle to make ends meet. Now, it was her turn to carry that burden. She worked three part-time jobs: a cashier in the morning, a waitress in the afternoon, and a convenience store clerk at night. Today, though, she was already late for her morning shift. She ran out of the apartment, clutching a half-eaten piece of bread, only to find that her bus card was missing. The bus roared away as she ran after it, coughing in the trail of exhaust. She sighed and whispered under her breath, “Maybe in another life, I’ll be lucky.” By the time she arrived at work, her boss was waiting by the door, arms crossed. “Late again, Reyes,” he snapped. “You know we can’t keep someone who can’t manage her time.” Jenny bowed her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll make up for it—” “You’ve been saying that for months,” he interrupted. “Pack your things.” Just like that, her morning ended with another loss. When she left the store, it began to rain. Jenny didn’t have an umbrella, so she stood there for a while, letting the cold drops soak her hair and clothes. For some reason, she didn’t feel like running anymore. She just wanted to stop fighting the world for one day. She walked aimlessly through the wet streets until she reached a small alley behind an antique shop. Something shiny caught her eye—a small, golden lamp, half-buried in mud near the garbage bins. It looked old, but oddly beautiful, with strange carvings that seemed to shimmer faintly under the dim streetlight. Curiosity won over exhaustion. She bent down, wiped off the dirt, and whispered, “Maybe this will sell for a few pesos.” She tucked the lamp into her bag and hurried home before the rain grew stronger. Inside her apartment, she placed the lamp on her table, staring at it closely. It was heavier than she expected. She ran her finger along its side and laughed softly. “You’re probably just another useless thing, huh?” But as soon as her hand brushed over the lid, a faint whisper echoed. Her eyes widened. “What was that?” The room suddenly turned cold. The air thickened. The lamp began to shake on its own, rattling against the table. Jenny stepped back, heart pounding. “W-What’s happening?” The whisper grew louder, like a voice carried by the wind—low, ancient, and sorrowful. Then, with a flash of golden light, the lamp burst open. Smoke filled the room, swirling like a storm, and a deep voice echoed through the air. “After a thousand years…” it murmured, “someone has finally awakened me.” Jenny froze, eyes wide in terror, as a tall figure began to form from the smoke—broad shoulders, golden eyes, and markings that glowed faintly on his skin. She wanted to scream but couldn’t move. The man looked at her, his gaze sharp and otherworldly. “Who are you?” Jenny whispered. The stranger tilted his head slightly, a smirk curving his lips. “I,” he said, his voice deep and echoing, “am Azrael… your genie.” Jenny’s breath caught in her throat. The rain outside stopped. Time seemed to hold still. And that was the moment she realized—her life was about to change in ways she could never imagine.