The Girl Who Wasn’t Crazy

Hello everyone,

Before you continue reading, I want you to ask yourself one question:

What if the person everyone called “crazy”… wasn’t crazy at all?

What if she could see things no one else could see?

What if she knew secrets she was never told?

What if her madness… was hiding something far more mysterious?

Today, I’m sharing a true story.

A story that stayed with me for years.

A story about friendship, secrets, possession… and a twin sister who was never really gone.

This is not fiction. - This really happened.

And even today, some parts of it remain unexplained.

This poor girl — before she went crazy and lost her mind — was incredibly beautiful, and everyone praised her manners and good character. She was perfectly fine until one day she suddenly lost her mind. No one understood what had happened — not her parents, not the neighbors.

But what was strange was that unusual signs began to appear. For example, she would know things before they happened, or she would bring news about events taking place far away without anyone telling her. How could she possibly know all that? And how did she even go crazy in the first place?

That’s what you’re going to discover with me in today’s story.

The story was told to us by a woman named Mouna. I’ll tell it in her own words so you can really live the atmosphere.

My name is Mouna. I’m 41 years old now. The story I’m about to tell you — I’m not the main character. You’ll discover who she is as you listen.

I was born in a popular neighborhood. My father was a simple man, and my mother gave birth to seven children. I was the youngest — the “baby of the family.” Actually, we were supposed to be eight. When I was born, I had a twin sister, but she died a few days later. My mother told me she was born weak, while I was healthier and survived.

I grew up in a simple neighborhood, full of all kinds of people — good and bad — but we all lived in peace. Back then there were no phones, no Facebook, no WhatsApp. Life was simple and beautiful.

When I was little, I had a best friend. Her name was Fatiha. She is the real heroine of this story. We grew up together, went to school together, did everything together. We were inseparable.

When we turned 18, something happened that no one could explain. Fatiha suddenly lost her mind. Just like that. No reason. No warning.

Her parents were devastated. The whole neighborhood was shocked. She stopped speaking properly and behaved like someone completely insane. When I visited her and asked what happened, she whispered to me:

“They took my mind… they took my mind and left.”

I didn’t understand what she meant.

Her parents tried everything — doctors, religious healers — nothing worked. The neighbors tried to help, but nothing changed. She began wandering the streets talking nonsense. Sometimes she’d say she had just returned from Mecca. Other times she’d claim thieves came at night and stole millions from her.

People started calling her “Fatiha the crazy,” though they said it jokingly.

Despite everything, I stayed by her side. One day, while we were sitting together, she suddenly asked me:

“Where is your sister?”

I thought she meant my older sister. She said:

“No, the one who looks exactly like you. Your photocopy.”

She was talking about my twin.

She even called her by a name — Ibtissam — which wasn’t her real name. Then she asked me something that shocked me:

“Did you bury her in the house?”

I was stunned. I didn’t even know where my twin was buried. My mother had told me the grave was small and lost in the cemetery, so we never visited.

From that day, strange things kept happening.

Fatiha started predicting events. Once, she told a neighbor’s wife to stop putting something in her husband’s food because his health was deteriorating. Later, it turned out the wife was visiting a sorcerer and even cheating with him. No one knew how Fatiha knew.

Another time at the public bath, she poured boiling water over herself — but it didn’t burn her.

When I asked her about it, she whispered:

“It wasn’t me. He told me to do it. Sidi Ahmed.”

I didn’t understand who that was.

Later, she told me I would get a job soon and warned me about a woman at work with a mark on her forehead. Two days later, I was hired exactly as she described — and there was indeed a woman matching her description.

I confronted her. She said:

“He brings me the news. He tells me everything.”

Then one day she dropped a bomb:

“Your twin sister is alive. Your mother gave her away to a wealthy family for 60,000 dirhams.”

I was horrified.

I ran home and confronted my mother. She broke down crying and confessed. They couldn’t afford to raise twins, so they gave my sister away to a rich couple who couldn’t have children.

I was shattered.

Not long after, Fatiha and her mother suddenly moved away from the neighborhood. I lost all contact with her. Years passed. I got married, had children, moved to another city.

Eighteen years later, during Ramadan, while praying at the mosque, I saw a woman who looked exactly like Fatiha. She stared at me too. When prayer ended, she ran to me, hugged me, and cried.

It was her.

But she was completely normal.

She told me the truth.

She said that during those years, a jinn had possessed her — not a lover spirit, not a companion spirit, but one who called himself “Moulay Ahmed.” He had taken control of her mind. That’s why she behaved insane. He gave her information about people — not about the future, but about things happening elsewhere.

When they moved houses, things started to fade. Gradually she regained herself. Later, she became more religious, closer to God, and eventually married.

She told me she knew she used to appear in my dreams — and I in hers.

We are still in contact today.

As for my twin sister, I still haven’t found her.

And to this day, even though Fatiha explained everything, part of this story remains a mystery to me.