Granted Me What I Wished… Then Ruined My Life: The Curse of the Jinn Ring

By: The Flexible Adventurer

My name is Khaled from the city of Surkan. At the time of this story, I was eighteen years old and in my final year of high school. By nature, I was very lazy when it came to studying—I never reviewed my lessons and didn’t like socializing with my classmates. I was certain I would fail that year without a doubt.

But the only thing I was keen on was going out for a morning run. Next to our house was a vast forest—so dangerous that if two friends entered together and then split up, it would be difficult for them to meet again. One early morning, I went out for my usual run, and the forest was almost empty. While running, I caught sight of a veiled woman dressed entirely in black, also running. I didn’t pay much attention to her, thinking she was simply used to running in the morning to avoid encountering men.

But to my surprise, I saw something fall from her onto the ground. I approached and brushed the dirt off it, only to find a strangely shaped ring. I called out to her to return it, but she didn’t turn around, as if she hadn’t heard me, even though the forest was completely silent. Perhaps she ignored me, or perhaps she was frightened by me. I took the ring, slipped it onto my hand, and went back home.

When I arrived home, I found something I wasn’t used to at all: my mother was already awake and had prepared breakfast, waiting for me! She sat beside me, which was unusual for her. I showed her the ring and asked if she thought it was gold. She said, “No, I don’t think it’s gold; it looks more like tin.” I replied, “That’s fine, I’ll just keep it as an ornament.”

Strangely enough, my father also woke up early and asked me if I needed anything—something he had never done before. I didn’t give it much importance and headed off to school, but the surprises kept coming: my friend, who had never paid me much attention, offered me a ride in his father’s car. Then, in class, the girl I had admired for a long time sat right next to me—and what was even more shocking was that I actually understood the lesson with ease, completely unlike my usual self!

My life began to change rapidly: I became one of the top students in class, my classmates started to like me, and people smiled at me wherever I went. It seemed as if the ring had brought me luck and acceptance. But on the other hand, my nightmares grew worse: I would see a woman dressed entirely in black, with long hair, wearing the same ring. Sometimes, in the dream, I saw her cutting off the finger on which I wore it.

Days passed, and I succeeded in my studies in a way that shocked everyone—even the teachers themselves came to my house to check my grades. But the dark events did not stop: I began seeing a strange man, with a long beard and tattered clothes, who would suddenly appear before me and vanish. Then he would grab my hand violently and say, “Why did you take something that isn’t yours?”

I was scared, but I didn’t give up the ring. My arrogance grew, and I began to think I had become a superhero. Even my father, one day, when he raised his hand to hit my mother, experienced something strange: his hand froze, and he almost died while holding the electric lamp! That’s when I realized that the ring was giving me power.

One day, while I was running in the forest, the same veiled woman appeared, but this time she revealed her face: her features were terrifying, her eyes bulging. She said to me, “Return the ring to me; it is mine alone, and only I can lift the curse it carries.” I refused and told her, “It fell from you, so it’s mine now.” She then threatened me, saying I would regret it, so I pushed her hard and ran away.

Since that day, my life began to turn upside down: I lost my phone and money after being robbed by some thieves, I was rejected from the scholarship I had been waiting for, and my house became full of conflicts. One day, while I was taking a shower, the electricity went out, and I felt a cold hand gripping my neck in the darkness, almost suffocating me.

I ran out in terror, screaming at my parents, but they swore they hadn’t heard a thing! And from that very day, the doors began to close on their own in front of me.

A few days later, I met the girl I had admired, who studied with me. She sat with me for a while, then said: “I want to tell you something… it’s better if we part ways.” She didn’t mention the reason, then left, leaving me in deep confusion.

I became angry inside and said: “I will not allow anyone from now on to see you with this beauty, so that your face may be ruined sooner rather than later..”
I looked at the ring on my finger and wished for it from the depths of my heart.

And the next morning, I woke up to my mother’s scream as she stared at me and said:
“Oh my goodness! What happened to you?”
I rushed to the mirror, only to find my face covered with scars, pimples, and spots, as if a strange illness had suddenly struck my features. I tried to treat it by visiting several doctors, but to no avail. I used ointments and medications, yet my condition did not improve.

It was then that I realized the ring had become a curse with no benefit. I tried to remove it, but it had stuck to my finger tightly. At first, it was loose and easy to take off, but now it had shrunk as if refusing to part from me.

Misfortunes began to pile up: whenever I touched something with my hand, it would break or malfunction—even the door to my room and kitchen utensils shattered when I touched them. My mother’s fear grew, and she began to believe that I was bewitched.

One day, I put on a hat to hide my face and went down to the sea to get some fresh air. I sat there, reflecting on my misery, as my finger swelled and the ring pressed so tightly that it almost cut off the blood to my hand.

Suddenly, I spotted him in the distance: that pale old man who had always been following me. He was sitting silently, staring at the sea. I approached him and said, pleading:
“Please, help me. I didn’t know this ring would bring me all of this.”

He looked at me and said: “They now own you. As long as the ring is on your finger, you are at their mercy.” I asked in confusion, “Who do you mean?” He replied, “This ring has servants among the jinn. At first, they give you what you desire, then they turn against you—especially if you are not worthy of carrying it.”

He told me that the ring originally belonged to his family, passed down from generation to generation. As for the woman I had seen running in the forest, she was nothing but a thief who had obtained it with the help of a sorcerer in exchange for money.

Then the old man said sternly: “There is only one way to get rid of it: you must cut off the finger that wears it.” I was shocked by his words and ran away from him, tears streaming down my face.

But the misfortunes didn’t stop: my father began raging violently at my mother, causing her to collapse unconscious. We called the doctor, who said it was due to nerves. That’s when I became even more certain that the ring was spreading misfortune to everyone around me.

And one night, the woman I had first found the ring from appeared to me. She said:
“I know the ring has been bringing you misfortune. I have a solution: I will take you to a sorcerer who can remove it from your finger, and he may even give you money on top of that.”

Despite my fear, I agreed, as I was desperate. We arranged to meet at night in the forest. When darkness fell, I went to her. But I soon realized I had fallen into a trap. I was knocked unconscious and woke up bound inside an abandoned hut, with the woman in front of me and the sorcerer preparing his tools.

The sorcerer said with a cold smile:
“You don’t want the ring? Fine… we will cut off your finger and end this.”

I began crying and reciting the Quran, praying to Allah to save me. At the crucial moment, the door was broken down, and the old man entered with the police! They rescued me from the hands of the sorcerer and the woman, and the two were taken away.

The old man took me to his home and said:
“There is still hope. We will attempt a special ritual to remove the ring without cutting the finger, but it has never been tried before.”

He lit a white candle and began reciting mysterious incantations, then placed my finger in the soil, then in water, and finally left it exposed to the air, combining the four elements. I felt intense heat in my hand, as if it were burning. After a full hour, my hand began to return to normal, and suddenly, the ring slipped off my finger and fell to the ground!

I rejoiced immensely and cried from sheer relief. I handed him the ring and said:
“Take it; I don’t want it anymore.”
He said to me, “This is where it belongs, with me. I know how to handle it.”

I returned home happy, my face began to return to normal, and my father regained his senses. I enrolled in a new school and returned to my normal life after years of terror.

And so I learned that some things that shine are not treasures, but curses… and that curiosity can lead us to dark doors from which we can only escape by a miracle.