Ten Wishes: Moonlight Tales, #2

By Marianna Palmer

Four years inside locked doors.... Not knowing what is real and what is fake. But the lamp is gold. It's new. It's real. So is Cor, the genie of the lamp. And I can't see the true danger all around me.

Set in a far off future, Ten Wishes is an Aladdin retelling filled with magic, fantasy, and twists the reader won't see coming. Part of the Moonlight Tales.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marianna Palmer
• Release date: May 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224488568

Marianna Palmer

Marianna Palmer is a creative force who has been crafting captivating stories from the depths of her imagination since she first learned to dream. Encouraged by a dare from her sister, she bravely embarked on a journey into the world of writing, which became her sanctuary during years of solitude, personal challenges, and overcoming deep-rooted fears. With an unwavering passion for storytelling, Marianna pursued her education and proudly earned her BA degree. However, she didn't stop there. Preferring the enigmatic allure of privacy, she briefly disappeared from the public eye, resurfacing intermittently in the company of her sister before once again retreating into her world of words. Currently residing in the vibrant city of Tacoma, WA, Marianna draws inspiration from the beauty of her surroundings while reveling in the safety of her sister's presence. Determined to live life to the fullest, she fearlessly confronts the unknown, defying the daunting obstacles that once hindered her path.

Book preview

Chapter One

54 years After the Flood

Seattle

I had to get used to walls. Being sixteen-years old and crazy forced that on me. Like so many of the things in my life. It never really stopped. I was forced to take pills. Forced to go out and get exercise. Forced to sleep when the lights went off. I had no window. So, when the lights were gone, I could do nothing.

But I didn’t think I deserved to be in here. The Institute for Mental Issues. It should be called the Prison for People who Don’t Fit In. I didn’t fit in.

A buzzing alarm sounded. I ran to my corner. I hated that noise. Hated it! It made my heart angry. It demanded exit from my body.

Therapy time, a voice called. They were all voices. I never looked them in the eyes. Didn’t know what they looked like. I didn’t know what I looked like anymore. I remember having beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes... No, that was a model on a magazine. Me? Maybe I had that long brown hair that I never cut. Or maybe it was the short bob—maybe it was all of them.

I felt cruel fingers on my arms. They never waited for me to walk on my own. Not anymore. Because I wouldn’t.

The faceless voice pulled me through the door. Didn’t bother to check my feet. I was supposed to wear slippers on this cold floor. He didn’t care.

The funny thing, Mr. Voice was chatty today. I shared your story with my daughter. She wishes she could come see the loony in the padded room.

I never speak.

Voice didn’t expect me to. Now, I told her it’s not proper to call you loonies. But she’s incorrigible. I encourage free thought, because you are a loony, aren’t you?

Voice surprised me. Everyone was supposed to be so nice these days. No one bullied anyone. Cruelty could be taught out of you. The lesson hadn’t stuck with Voice.

He shook me. Why don’t you respond?

I don’t speak.

We arrived at the office of Interrogating Voice. She always wanted me to speak. But I don’t speak.

How are we today, Lorena?

I was pushed onto a couch. It was red. Thick lines. The fabric made me shiver. Goosebumps on my arms were fascinating, changing at will.

Mr. Voice left. Interrogating Voice asked me questions. Talk about my childhood. Tell her why I didn’t speak. Drudge up all the pain I had helped myself forget.

After an hour, a year, a decade, she called for Mr. Voice, and he pulled me to the showers. Mr. Voice gave me over to Not A Voice. She didn’t speak. She just stripped me, washed me, and put me in clean clothes. I am a suitcase. Conveyed from place to place. A package, an item.

Then I was sat down in front of a big TV and ignored. I like TV. It’s big, shows me cool stuff. I wish they hadn’t made me believe there was nothing but reality out there. I want to believe there once lived a warrior princess. I want to believe there are aliens in far off solar systems. I like the idea of a prince wanting a commoner.

The same non-time passed, and I was transferred again, back to my room. It was padded. I don’t know why. I never did anything but write. I think the stuff I scribble down is good. But, hey, I’m in here, aren’t I? I can’t trust my own opinion.

The Voices at least give me paper and pens. I could have some electronic ways of keeping my words, but they won’t waste money on an inmate here. There’s a lack of certain goods since the floods. They are expensive. I am poor. But I didn’t need anything other than a pen and paper. There’s something soothing about filling pages up. My silly block print looks important with lines and lines of it.

Suddenly, darkness. My light is gone. They turned it off. I can only sleep. It’s the part of the day I look forward to the most sometimes. In my dreams, I’m still with my sister. I wasn’t taken away from her. She wasn’t taken away from me.

The next day the Voices are angry. Mr. Voice gets this way sometimes. He has a bad morning, a bad night, his wife yells at him, or maybe he just gets constipated. I don’t know. But I am a convenient target.

After therapy and showering, he didn’t take me to the TV room. He pushed me back into mine.

My heart beats—it always beats. But I’m scared. I want to speak. But I never speak.

You’re not getting nothing today, Ms. Quiet. You think you’re better? Well, you get no TV, no writing.

No! He snatched away my words. He took them away!

A laugh. Mr. Voice found my face funny. I wanted to kick him. I wanted to claw his eyes out. But if I did, I’d be in trouble. I knew that feeling all too well. I curled up into my corner and cried. I always cry. I can never stop. Except when I write.

I didn’t know how bad my little padded room with only one bed and one harmless chair could be. I was used to it. Wasn’t I? No, I really wasn’t. Only when I write and go to my worlds can I think this place is any good at all. But Mr. Voice took them away. He stole my only escape.

I knew it was stupid. I knew I’d get in trouble, but I started tearing at my wall.

I was attacking a beast—ripping its guts out. I was freeing myself from my cage. I’d be outside in a minute. I’d be running. Along the docks. And then jumping into the water.

Clarity came. It sometimes did. My hands were just bruised. I had only opened...

My breath caught. I had opened up a panel in whatever it was they had made this place with. I closed my eyes and waited. My fantasies sometimes overwhelmed me. They all felt so real. But this might be. Nothing had changed when I opened my eyes again. There it was. Still there.

Minutes later? Still there. Okay, so this was really real. I didn’t have a spoon, but I had started tunneling out of my prison.

I pulled it, and the whole panel came off. It was hiding a wall.

Yay for me! I could tunnel out of concrete! Sure, of course. Stupid moron, I scolded myself.

But I cocked my head. At the bottom there was a hole. It held something shiny.

Again, close my eyes. Open them. Close them. Still there. Whatever was shiny wasn’t going away either.

I felt, for the first time in, like, four years, excitement breathe through me. This was not the stuff from TV’s many rising and falling climaxes. This was real. It was something not allowed. It was shiny!

I took it in my hands. Funny, I hadn’t looked at my hands in such a long time. But everything was real. Finding something shiny. My hands were pale, my nails overly short. I didn’t clip them, but the Voices did. They didn’t like it when I clawed people.

But my hands couldn’t compare to the shiny thing.

I know I’d seen it somewhere. It was round, with a handle that had a tapering point with a hole in it. A lamp! Like on that really old cartoon classic where the boy found a genie which saved his life. It was a lamp?

An old-fashioned lamp?

A lamp, in my wall, a lamp next to me. A shiny genie’s lamp that was really here. I didn’t bring it into my mind. It had been here, waiting for me.

I bit my lip and let it slowly escape from my teeth. My mind wanted to go away again. But I wanted to stay here. Could it be?

Could it be real? I mean, really real. Holding a genie who would grant wishes.

I debated for minutes, hours, years, days—seconds. If I rubbed this and nothing happened, it’d break my already broken heart. The lamp had come to me. It was mine. If it was a false hope, I couldn’t take it. But if a genie came out and asked me my bidding, then would it be real? I had seen that movie a million times. I had wanted the blue guy to sing to me.

I held the lamp in my hands. Its weight was solid, the metal cool.

Worst case scenario, I said out loud. Okay, sometimes I do speak. To myself. I just never speak to the many Voices. I rub it. I see a genie. I’m crazy. No news there! I don’t rub it. I always wonder. They take it away from me.

That made my decision. This was mine. I took it gently between my palms and rubbed as hard as I could.

Smoke billowed out. It did what it was supposed to. It thickened and burned, outlined with silver, green and solid form in the middle.

Okay, option one it was. I really am crazy. Because someone appeared in the room as the smoke went away. There was my genie.

Chapter Two

The room was filled with green smoke. I watched its tendrils in fascination. Somehow, I couldn’t look at the genie in my room. I had to wait. This could disappear. Maybe I found a lamp, but did I imagine the genie? It was too perfect. The smoke curled and made aerial loops in front of my eyes.

You have summoned me, Master, his voice said.

I cocked my head. The smoke was sure pretty. I liked it. I wanted to fly on its wings.

Um, would you prefer I call you Mistress?

There was someone here. I pulled my flying mind down to stare at him. He was a man. Boy. Guy. I don’t know. Tall—well, taller than I was. But I’m not exactly tall. I think I’ve seen his color of hair, painted in a romantic painting. His lips were thick and kissable. His eyes a forest green. Hair the silkiest I had ever seen fell to his chin—a chin that had a goatee and a tiny mustache.

You have nice muscles. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I had just talked to someone else. But he did have nice muscles! They filled his wonderful billowy shirt well. I could see deep ovals, but the rest was covered except for a very nice abdomen.

Well, thank you, he said. I can’t read people. I always get it wrong. But he sounded embarrassed. All genies do. It comes with the imprisonment. Oh, speaking of which, you have seven wishes.

I blinked. The fact was silly and unimportant. But it was the most amazing thing in the world. I wouldn’t have imagined seven wishes. The top total was three. Always. I get seven? I asked. I couldn’t believe my voice didn’t sound strange to him. I hadn’t used it in so long.

He actually rolled his eyes but caught himself. Yes, Master. The myths that have become prominent in... What year am I in?

I had to calculate it. I hadn’t thought of the year in a long time. Let’s see. It had been AF 50 when I went in. I had been twelve. Four years. Okay. AF 54.

What? he asked with closed eyes.

AF 54.

What does the AF stand for?

After Flood. It has been fifty-four years since the time reckoning changed.

I caught a whiff of despair. His voice cracked, but he continued strong enough. Time has changed. Well, myths don’t seem to. Three is a fallacy. Some genies try to get away with three, but a master has seven.

I’m a master?

He nodded. You can order me to do anything even without wishing. But for anything I can’t do without magic, it’ll take a wish. Until the seventh wish is made, I am your slave.

Can I kiss you? I asked. I don’t know where that came from. I guess it was because of all the shows. Girl meets guy. Girl likes guy. Girl kisses guy. I liked him. His presence. His form. I had never felt like this. Like my heart wanted to kill me by pounding too hard. It scared me. So, jump onto what I was supposed to do. I tracked his lips. Nice and normal.

His green eyes widened. I liked eyes. Okay, I liked his eyes. Oh, wow. This was the first time I had looked anyone in the eyes in ages. Uh, is that your wish?

No.

He visibly relaxed. Like it would have been such a horror to get a kiss from me! Then I shouldn’t. You can order me to without wishing. He looked strange, as if he didn’t really have to tell me that but was for whatever reason.

My head swirled again. I was falling into my hole. I had one I went to. Went away. He wasn’t real. I was imagining, wasn’t I? I don’t have wishes. I don’t have you. You are a figment of my crazy imagination. I nodded.

He looked perplexed. I have appeared before hundreds of people in my incarceration. Many have disbelief, but they also believe what they see before them.

I felt clear today. Of all the days to imagine something so wonderful! I can’t believe my own eyes. When I was twelve, I imagined that my walls were melting. I once saw a lion coming into my classroom and ripping apart three kids. All fake. When I jumped into the way of a speeding boat to save an imaginary kid, I spent a week in the hospital, and then I came here.

As if he was noticing his whereabouts, he looked around. Ah, I see. You are in an institute.

The place for those that don’t fit in, I corrected, though I remembered the name as I clawed at the sidewalk to prevent my mom from taking me into this building. I had bled. They hadn’t even looked at my fingers before throwing me in a room.

Well, that’s easy, he said with a smile. A wish could clear your head.

I wondered if this was possible. Okay. So, I can have any wish I want?

He nodded with a smile. He must have felt on familiar ground now. Within reason. I can’t fight against the powers of life and death. I can’t make someone live, and I can’t make someone die. Love is also something that is out of my area of expertise. So, if you wanted a boy to fall in love with you...

Red hot anger burned in my head. It happened sometimes. Pure and fiery. I didn’t care for his tone. What’s your name? I demanded.

Um, Genie is fine.

No, your real name. I want to yell at you, and I like using names.

He flicked a piece of dust out of his eye and looked away. You can call me Cor. Genies aren’t named with names but descriptions. I was a happy genie baby, so Coruscant I was so dubbed. But it is a little long, so my friends call me Cor.

Well, Cor, I haven’t seen a boy since I tried to save him from a non-existent lion, and he looked at me like I was piece of garbage on the ground. I’ve never had anyone, Cor. Never been in love. I don’t think I can, Cor. So, no worries there, Cor!

He offered a wry smile as I jumped on my bed and sat cross legged. Now it sounds like an insult. I was just telling the rules. What’s your name?

I blushed. So, he wanted to insult me too. Cor was the only color in the white room, blasting my sight. Making everything real. Lorena Suzanne Watson. Go ahead. Give it your worst.

He smiled. Can I call you Lor?

I got distracted by my fingers. The nails were really too short. They never let them get long. I wished I could cut my own nails, or not cut them. Let them grow long. Paint them. We’d rhyme then.

Well, rhythmic names make for good friends, or so my mother always stated.

I didn’t feel awake. This must be a dream. What are the other rules?

I can’t make you a presidential figure or anyone in charge. That can be complicated especially if people ask how you became so powerful without elections or what not. I can’t change time or whatever. So, all that would happen would, bam! You’d be there and that’s it. We are supposed to keep secrecy above all else. That means no high-profile stuff.

I looked at him again, smiling. I felt a tingle in my stomach. You never answered me. Can I kiss you?

He shook his head. No. It’s not allowed. Not unless you wish for it. I have in the past gotten a few desires like that, but I have swayed the people who desired me to models, actors, and such. I can’t compare to them after all. Dream men and women are much more appealing than a genie.

Was it me? I’m sure it was, but I caught a little sound of loneliness in the genie’s throat.

Or was I just hearing what I felt? Wishes. The roof was so white.

Um, Lor? Cor’s voice. No, I didn’t want him to be a voice! I latched my eyes on him again. What is your wish? We do have somewhat of a time crunch. If any of your wardens come in here and see that... He gestured to the lamp at my feet, reminding me of his origins. They’ll take it away. Once you make your wish, you can’t lose it. But right now, the rules are in a limbo state.

I rocked back and forth. My mind was slipping, slipping. He was really cute. I wanted to ask him out. Maybe we could go for a drive. I could wish for that new awesome vehicle. It skidded over the water with such ease. But how could I? I didn’t want to waste a wish on a vehicle. Besides, I didn’t know how to drive. No, I loved to drive. I once plowed into a building and sunk it. I had a genie who was offering wishes. The smoke sure was pretty.

Lor, Cor hissed. I hear footsteps. One move inside, they’ll take me away. I’ll have a new master.

I could hear the footsteps too. I don’t deserve a genie, I said. Now my eyes were wet. My heart was slipping into a hole of fire and lava. I didn’t deserve anything.

You deserve it more than anyone I’ve had, Cor said. His words were rapid. His breath quick. That little bump in his throat was moving like a fish underwater. Everyone else was rich—powerful. They didn’t need me. You do.

Make me sane then! I jumped up and pushed my face into his. I want to be out of here. Make me be able to. Give me back my mind.

Is that your wish?

The footsteps were getting closer.

I shook my head. As contradictory as ever, my mouth said the opposite. I wish to be sane!

Cor breathed a huge sigh of relief and pressed his fingers together. Power spilled from them. It rolled down his arms and across the floor. When it reached me, I’m pretty sure I had lost my breath.

But...

The power reared up and then escaped into the air.

I saw trees up above me—majestic leaves against the sky. Blue, so blue. White clouds. Birds. Dragons. I looked at my genie. So, it didn’t work.

Cor was staring at me with his mouth open. I could see his teeth. Pearly white—no, I hate clichés. Vanilla ice cream white. Sounds gross. Okay, paper white. All in a row. This doesn’t make sense.

There was a hand on the door.

Make another wish. Now!

Why not? I had nothing to write down. I had nothing. The door was opening. I wish for a caramel. One I used to make at home. One my sister used to help me with.

Cor snapped his fingers. This time the power just burst like a balloon through the room. The caramel I wished for was in my hands. Warm just like I used to eat them. Its familiar presence, its smell. It was real. I stared at it as the door opened and Voice walked in.

Time for lunch! he announced. He said nothing about Cor. Of course. Cor wasn’t real. I looked towards Cor, but he wasn’t there. I saw no lamp. I had been gone again.

Where in hell did you get that?

The caramel, the fake imaginary caramel, was yanked out of my hands.

It’s mine! Uh-oh. I heard the Beast. Sometimes I went mad. Like ripping at the wall. She hated everyone here and wanted everyone dead. She was angry. She wanted her caramel. I stood up and stretched towards Voice’s hands. He held my caramel out of reach. He laughed.

Oh, you want this, do you? It sure smells good. I don’t know where you got it, but you wouldn’t enjoy it. You don’t enjoy anything.

For the first time here, I looked at Voice’s face. It was fat, sallow. A drooping mustache. His face was mean. His eyes were dark. I could see it—the lack of soul. He gave me an evil grin as he dropped my caramel into his mouth.

Beast wasn’t happy. I think I punched him. I know I kicked his legs and brought him to the floor. I know people were called. I was put in a tight thing that didn’t allow me to move.

Beast was screaming until they shot her with chemicals. Then I went away.

Chapter Three

Iawakened again.

My cheeks were raw from wet tears drying on them. My eyes were crusty. I had been put into a corner. I was still tied up. Everything was gone. I had fallen again. But it was worse this time. It should have been real! I wanted it to be. I wanted to just sink into my mind and never come out again.

Well, that was fun, Cor said.

I jumped. Not far, of course. My body was bound. Never before had any of my delusions returned. He was still here. My genie. I wasn’t imagining him.

Never could I imagine someone so pissed off at me. His scowl deepened his face, wrinkling his tiny mustache. You could have wished for me to get you out of here. You could have wished for that idiot to be covered in warts or exploding boils or something. Instead, you wish for a caramel.

I felt here—dreamy, but here. Whatever they filled my body with, I was fighting against. But at least I could fight. I couldn’t resist whatever made everything go away. You’re real. I thought...

What? He settled down to look at me. They tied you up pretty good.

I think I hurt Voice.

The guy? His name is Darren Brighton.

He’s fat face. He’s Voice. I didn’t want to look at him. He took my caramel. It was real. How did you do that?

Cor tapped my straitjacket. Can I take this off of you? I hate seeing anyone lose freedom.

I wish for this to be off me.

Almost immediately, and out of Cor’s control, his power seeped out of his fingers and pulled the straitjacket off me. I could move. My arms were stiff. I windmilled them around a few times and then brought them down to hug Cor who had freed me. He felt warm and nice, but he was uncomfortable. He didn’t feel right with me hugging him. I was aware enough to know I shouldn’t force a kiss.

Sorry, I said and pulled away.

Damn it, Lor. I could have just used normal methods. You know, like my fingers? You wasted two wishes now. One on a caramel. One on easy freedom.

Can’t you say no? Can’t you resist? My mind was fuzzy, but I was feeling more and more levelheaded as I went.

It took me off guard, he admitted. He slid down on the wall, watching me. But even when I expect it, I can only hold back so long. Your wishes are my commands. Now, two are gone.

Three, I murmured. I leaned against the wall. I was sleepy, but I’d stay awake. I wished for sanity.

Cor shifted so he was leaning against the wall as well. His firm presence touched me somewhere inside. He was here. He was real. That didn’t count. It failed. I don’t know why. But I guess I can’t make you sane.

Bummer.

Cor sighed—he sighed deeply. He sighed like he was taking all the air out of the room. It was the first time someone other than my family felt so deeply about me. The room was solid—I was going nowhere. Too much. It was too much. Being here. With someone who cared.

Don’t do that, I ordered. I felt more like my mother’s daughter—my sister’s sister. I felt more like me. My genie anchored me down. He weighed me down. He kept me in.

Cor shot a look at me. His hair pressed against the wall in a circle, almost like a light brown halo. But he wasn’t an angel. He was a genie. My genie. I had wishes. Do what?

Sigh like I’m breaking your heart. My sardonic side was here. She didn’t play well with others. You don’t know me. You’re my slave, right?

Cor pursed his lips. I realized I had asked to kiss him when he did that.

Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked to kiss you. Sometimes, I fly. When I do that, I ask inappropriate things. I would have been too shy if I met you in school. Not that I go. Not that I’ve ever really stayed long in school. But I wouldn’t have asked to kiss you. So forward. Slutty even.

Cor held back a smile. Slutty? It was just a kiss you were asking for, was it not?

I ground my head into the wall and swung my arms. It felt good not to be trapped. Why didn’t they see you? I have trouble answering questions. New thoughts come in, and I have to listen. That’s just the way it was.

You made your wish. He stood up again and crossed his arms. All business again. My genie. I belong to you now. You have the rights of seven wishes—five now. If someone took the lamp or saw me, they might be able to restrict your wishes. Wishes are the greatest freedom in the world. No one mortal or upper should be able to take that freedom away from you. And to get back to it. Will you please wish so that we can get out of here? These walls remind me of my lamp. Nowhere to go. I’d like wide open vistas. Forests? Lakes? Oceans. Beautiful, clear and endless oceans.

I smiled at his tone. I wanted that too. Though, some of his terminology confused me. Lakes? Forests? Weren’t those from long ago? How long had he been trapped in his lamp? I had been in here so long and trapped by my own mind longer. A funny kind of ache touched my skin. There was an affinity between us. I wish...

For what? he asked, stretching his fingers. His eyes were lit up—so green, like a light filled forest.

I wish for a piece of chocolate cake.

Cor groaned, but I got my wish. I glanced at my door as the cake appeared in my hands. Cor did good work. I hadn’t specified what I wanted—I didn’t even know. But somehow, he had picked the cake I was imagining right out of my memory. Summer day, the cake on the picnic table, warming in the sun. My sister shooing flies off it so I could enjoy it. The heady smell of warmed chocolate rose to my nose just like that day.

I’d better be on my toes around you, Cor said, flattening his lips. You have got to stop, he added. I picked up the fork he had provided—a silver-tined shiny work of wonder, and I delicately ate a few bites. You only have four left now!

I know. But wishes are scary. I was me more than I had been. But I was numb, lost. I wanted to get out of here. Why wasn’t I wishing for that?

Cor stared at me. His mouth fell open to reveal his teeth. His perfectly red tongue. Scary? My goodness, mortal. Wishes are all you have.

"You’re wrong. We mortals have a saying. Be careful what you wish for. I have to be careful."

Why?

An innocent question. No good answer. Pain. Just pain. An answer came. Because genies are tricksters. You wish for a million dollars, you’re buried in money and suffocate so you can’t enjoy it. Or you wish to be able to fly, but then you hit airplanes. Or maybe I wish to be out of here, and you throw me in prison. I’m out, but I’m trapped. Caramels and cakes seem safe. Now. My point exactly. Look what happened to my caramel. I lost it. I took another bite. The cake spread across my tongue, chewed by my teeth—automatic but lovely. Nice.

Cor was still staring at me as if he couldn’t quite fathom my arguments.

Do you want some cake? I offered.

He shook his head. Unbelievable. Do I want some?

I nodded and stood up, balancing the cake with one hand as I used the other to push me up. I walked over to him and held out the fork covered in a nice piece, equal frosting and cake. I held it to his nose. What, don’t you eat?

I should have given you the rules. He turned his face away from the cake. If humans offer the genie anything, it unleashes the bond bit by bit. And this is worse. Your generosity, sharing the wish, gives me back my power.

I don’t care. I don’t deserve all the power. Besides, it sucks to eat alone. Don’t you agree? You do eat in your lamp, right? Where is your lamp? I asked and looked around. Only the white walls of my room met my gaze. Somehow, Cor had made this place homey with just his presence.

Cor answered the last questions. Yes, I eat. My lamp give me room and board. It is still here. Always near you. Take a look at your hip.

I pulled my fork away long enough to do as he asked. To my surprise the lamp hung on my soft pants’ band. It didn’t pull on them or tug or anything. It was just there. Mine.