1 1 Pilot

I am Achraf, the definition of a genius. I know how arrogant I sound by saying this. But it's the truth. I mean what do you call a guy who finished high school at 11 in Morocco.

I was a really weird and bizarre child. I wasn't exactly ambitious nor was I really into studying but I just was curious about 'Jennis'.

I mean would you blame me? They are a really weird existence that can travel to the end of the earth in a blink of an eye. They can fly and can turn to devils by just not believing in "God". They can talk to humans even though God didn't want them to and they can even use magic. They are the only mythical creature that I have ever known in childhood.

I first heard of them when I was 2 years old, my mom wanted to silence me by scaring me and telling me that Jennis are gonna devour me if I continued crying but to her surprise, I wasn't scared as much as I was curious. The first words that came out of my mouth were "Tell me more about them". My mom freaked out and even took me to 'an imam' (priest in Islam). The imam told her nothing is wrong with me, and that I was just a prodigy.

After that, my parents hired a private tutor to teach me how to write and read when I was 2 years old and a half. I wasn't lazy nor stubborn and I definitely wasn't a problematic kid, so I learned the basics of Arabic in two months. And I learned half the Quran (the holy book of Islam) by the age of 4. I was praised by my tutor, my family, and even my neighbors' parents. Of course, I didn't care care too much about it, I was more into studying books related to 'Jennis'.

At the age of 9, I had already finished studying every lesson that a middle schooler would have studied. I even got a diplomatic visa and a national scholarship that made me able to go to whatever high school I wanted.

My neighbors grew jealous of me as they heard their parents talk about my achievements. They were compared to me and told by their parents (in front of me sometimes )"Why are you so dumb ? You should be more like Achraf !" even tho I was younger and smaller than them which made them develop hatred and jealousy towards the innocent me.

Whenever I walked around the street, I could feel their envious eyes, but I didn't really mind it since they never acted on it.

One day, as I was coming back from the library, five kids from my neighbor fanned out onto the sides, in an attempt to circle me. The older and the biggest one of them came forward acting all assured and confident, his name was Nasr, while the others took a position of fight. I was scared but I tried to keep my composure.

Nasr opened his mouth and said, "Well, looks like your achievements can't save you from this, hahaha...", as he started laughing, the others did too. It was a really cringe and childish sight to see but I had to act mature as to not provoke them just as my dad told me to do in these kind of situations.

"I know guys that you don't wanna do this. You are just feeling bad a little bit since your parents are comparing you to me, that they are giving me more attention than you, their own sons!" I said with a certain sadness in my eyes, it made them think I'm sympathizing with them and let all of them but Nasr drop their guard a little bit.

"Acting all high and mighty even now, huh. Well unfortunately for you, this is your last time mocking us!" said Nasr while closing his fists preparing to throw some punches.

I panicked a little since it didn't work on him at all, so I tried convincing him quickly before he starts beating me.

" Just think about it, I've never done anything bad to you, I even tried sometimes explaining to your parents that everyone has his pace and way of thinking, but they still insist on doing that! " I said trying to make them realize that it's their parents' fault and walk away peacefully.

The four kids weren't as stubborn as Nasr, so as soon as they accepted that their parents were the problem, they just left together and went home with a sad look on their faces not knowing what to do with their parents.

Nasr, looking at the scene knew I was right, but his ego was too big to let him admit that, so he ran to me trying to punch my face. I covered myself with my hands instantly since I knew that there was no point in running.

And then, I heard some fast footsteps. They weren't Nasr's. I uncovered my face to see who was it and then, I saw my dad grabbing the hand of the troubled bully and tightening his grip to stop Nasr from hitting me.

At that moment, my dad looked really cool, and I know how childish it seems but he became my hero.

After that, I explained what happened to my dad and he told me how proud he was that I handled the situation well. Then he talked to the children's parents and told them to care more about their sons' mental health.

After that accident, the children became friendly with me since the behavior of their parents changed and they were no longer comparing them to me and Nasr even apologized and promised to never repeat such a thing.

I was still interested in 'Jennis', but I didn't really have any materials left to study them: I read every available book about them. So the only thing that I was able to do is to get a hold of antique manuscripts about this subject.

And the best way to do that is by going to 'Al Qarawiyine', one of the oldest universities in the world and the oldest in Morocco because it has the oldest Islamic library and there will certainly be some valuable and interesting information about this magical race.

With that in mind, I worked my ass off to get a high school diploma. Of course, the idea of a child going into college at that young age was really weird but since there was a precedent and my dad really tried his best at convincing the minister of education (They were friends) to let me pass the test.

After failing at convincing him 7 times, my dad used his trump card.

My dad was one hell of a journalist and writer, but he was more known for investing in people. And contacted one of the best Moroccan writers and scientists and told them to come over for seven days. Every single one of them owed him one.

Be it helping them by getting them a one-time job, saving their careers, or even helping their kids get into the finest universities. And today he knew it was all worth it. I was enormously proud of my dad and his wide vision and how he thought investing in people was better than investing in stocks or getting a high-paid job.

When the nine of them came, they weren't expecting that much from a child, I mean why would they? But they still gave him a chance.

After a week, they were super entertained. Why? Well, I adapted my jokes into each of their personalities after my dad described them to me, I read and even shared my insight into each of their researches and gave them amazing advice.

At first, some of them were so proud to take a piece of advice from me, a kid, but after looking into it, they liked it and they became my first 'friends'.

After 3 days, my dad told me that I got a chance to go and pass the exam, I guess even the minister can't ignore the voices of nine of the country's finest intellectuals.

I really like my dad and I think he and my mother are the people I treasure the most. And that's how I got my high school diploma at 11 years old. All of that is thanks to my dad.

As I grew, I began respecting and loving my father more and more.

My parents were so supportive of my dreams and my hunger for knowledge even though it seemed like a waste of my abilities at the time to study about a magical race that is probably not even real. I really liked them. They were with me every step of the way. I felt like they were nourishing my soul while I was doing the same for my brain.

I never knew the feeling of hopelessness and uselessness until the day April the 10th.

My dad, my hero died after being robbed by a group of hungry and filthy orphans and that's all is the fault of a stupid, selfish, self-centered and spoiled brat who begged him so much to go and buy a new exclusive book that you can get only if you go to the general library between 1 A.M and 2 A.M, even after him explaining how dangerous and dark it was.

That kid was me. I killed my father. I was the one who didn't consider the risks and acted selfishly. I was the one who didn't see the whole picture and only cared about a minor thing such as 'exclusive book'.

I don't deserve being called a genius. I don't even deserve being called a human. I'm a piece of trash. A scumbag.

I basically manipulated my loved ones into doing whatever I wanted. And... and...because of that, he, my father, my idol is...gone.

I hated my self and I became a shut-in for almost two years and a half. I was empty inside. I didn't care about anything in this world anymore. I thought that I was too dangerous to be left alive but I couldn't bring myself to suicide, I know what it will do to my newly widowed mother, so I shut myself in my room. My mom never blamed me, but that's actually way worse. It made me feel guiltier and emptier. I really hate myself.