[ WP ] You find a genie in a bottle , in the house of the person who just murdered your family .

2/2 
 
 The Genie's cheeks grow with happiness. He enjoys that word. `` I have been called Genie,'' his deep voice bellows, `` I have been called a demon, God, a saint. I am none of this. I am smoke with a curse. That curse allows me to grant people wishes if they give me freedom. After those wishes are granted, I return to my world.'' 
 
 My skepticism slowly falls. For smoke, he is very inviting. `` So any three wishes?'' 
 
 The Genie is used to this question. `` I can not kill, because I can not die. I also can not travel time because I am eternal. Lastly, I can not undo past wishes. Words said to me after you proclaim a wish can not be reclaimed. Now you have my rules. What are your wishes?'' 
 
 My thoughts race. Nothing is more important to me than finding this murderer. It does not matter how the Genie is in his possession. Revenge is all that matters. 
 
 After what feels like hours pass, the Genie still floats patiently, arms crossed and mouth smirking. Obviously the killer used the Genie to kill my family, only magic would explain their sudden deaths. I must know why. `` I wish to know specifically why this man killed my family.'' I pointed to the killers face in the picture. Oh god, that's too simple. He could just say the word `` because he wanted to,'' I know their tricks. 
 
 He seems to gather information from the ceiling fan, as that's where he stared for a few agonizing, heart pounding moments. He finally draws in a deep breath, and his words slowly fall from his lips, `` His father was killed in a hit and run 20 years ago. The driver was your father. He wanted revenge.'' 
 
 My mouth drops. My thoughts race once again. My father was a good man. He was a man of the church, he attended every week. He had n't touched alcohol since my mother birthed me, my mother told me so. She also told me he quit a few years before I was born. He has been in an accident or two, all while drunk, and he paid for it. She said it was because he had no direction and needed a family to become a better person. They married a year later, had Sarah nine months later, had me 1 year later, and they are all now dead 16 years later. To spare my wishes, I must think smartly and speculate. His answer confirms he did in fact kill my family. It also answers why. It does not answer why he killed my mother and sister. The more I think I about him, the more I realize he knew the vengeance I felt. He felt it against my father. That does n't matter. Revenge matters. 
 
 All the while during my planning, the Genie is meditating. As I open my mouth for the second question, his eyes open. I double think myself. But no, now I must find him. `` I wish to know where he asked you to send him.'' It's perfect. The blue light and smoke I saw, this man asked the Genie to hide him. I still have one more wish. I can use it to follow him. 
 
 The Genie stares at the ceiling for a shorter moment than last time. The same deliberate breathes flowed from his no longer smiling lips. `` The man asked me to make him disappear. He has disappeared.'' 
 
 Before I know what I'm doing, I turn and punch the wall behind me, and I emit a scream I wish came from this murderous coward. I crumble to the ground, tears of grief, rage, confusion, and frustration fall from my face. What kind of person makes a wish like that? And if he asked, this kind Genie cooperated. My questions do n't matter anymore. I did not give this man the death he deserved. He gave it to himself. 
 
 After another hour of crying, the Genie is still floating, waiting for my final wish. I wish to disappear as well, and to find the murderer of my birth parents in whatever Purgatory he is in now, and make him suffer even more than he has made himself. I pick up the nearest picture of him. I already knew this, but this is the face I saw at my window. 
 
 But this face is happy. The one I saw was surprised, awestruck. He looked me in my eyes, and feared for his own life. I was supposed to die. He expected four lifeless bodies. I may already know his answer, but I know my final wish. 
 
 I stand up, holding the picture of the son of the man my father killed. I hold his picture up and say `` I wish to know all three of this mans wishes.'' I have no reason to be angry anymore. This man is worse than dead already, but that fear in his eyes. What was that fear? 
 
 That ceiling fan barely spoke to him this time, yet he was more deliberate with his words than before. For the first time something other than joy or contemplation filled his face - sympathy took over. `` His first wish was to know who killed his father. His second wish was the ability to stop the hearts of anyone with the blood of his fathers killer. And you know the last wish.'' 
 
 He slowly seeps back in to the spout of his bottle as his words seep in to my brain. He was gone. 
 
 My father was not my father. My family not my family. The killer of my father is not the killer of my father. I have no family. I never had family. I was lied to all my life. I never had a real family.
