"Ican't let the fire I have in me, burn my soul and dignity.
I won't let them see the monster they've hid in me, so I'll cage myself even If that means for an eternity"
-Deception
08-may-2009
A massive explosion caused everyone to dunk down. Smoke spreading from behind us. The whole ground starts shaking, and my ears rang a bell— a bell too long, too far-reaching, till I regain my focus. Everyone is running and screaming but I can't hear anything except for muffled terror. Fire? A house is on fire? My eyes scan back and front, but all I can see is crowd, fear, and panic . Everyone is gathering up. "It's smoking!" Someone yelled."Yilmaz house is on fire!" A man points back, taking quick shallow breaths. My eyes darted wildly to the name Yilmaz—became I'm Yilmaz. Which can only mean one thing. My chest constricted and a suffocating sense of dread wraps around me. Squeezing my throat.
The people of my town are screaming, falling, bumping each other aside. But I'm standing still, the moment I heard that man yell my name, it's like the ground left my feet hanging and my breath sucked in— Every neighbour of mine is rushing towards my house panickly.
Ifan looked over at me, he's frightened—of course he is. We're only ten.
"Don't be scared, I have to get my mum!" I yell and without sparing a single thought, I rushed to my house. There are way too many people gathered here. I push some random people to the side so that I can move through them, and I see Ifan is following me. I interpretingly turn around.
"I don't want you to follow me!" I said but he stayed silent and got stiffen looking behind me, as If he had seen a ghost. I turn around and the next image I see might not ever leave me alone now that I've seen it. It tore my heart into a billon pieces and my body trembled violently.
Anger is bad luck anger is bad luck.
There it was—my house, caught on fire. Half destroyed. Burning. The Back of my head is strangled with knotted words and alarm. The minute I broke my vision, I screamed. "My mum! Where's my mother?" My eyes scanning the place back and forth rushingly, but I can't see her anywhere. My neighbours are pulling me back, stopping me from going any further. Some neighbours were trying to put out the fire with buckets filled with water, and others were trying to get inside, that's when I see my mother coming outside, she's wounded but she's going to be okay, she's coming, she reached the door step.
But I saw something before anyone else did.
"MOM STOP! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"
In an instant, our roof fell down— on her.
"NO!" I screamed, tears fell down my chin, and time felt as If blurred, as if someone was choking me, and I cried, I fell down on my knees, in disbelief, remorse, I felt my childhood ending in a flash, gut wrenching image of my mom I couldn't unsee, I clutched my chest.
I had lost her..
When our hopes are High, and we stand broad. That's when we're more likely to fall apart. We let our caution essence bring the worst to us. Or at least that's how we feel when something terrible happen. We feel if we hadn't been cautious about something we wouldn't have attracted the negative attention. If we had just been thoroughly honest, we wouldn't have to face such difficulties. Anger is my bad luck. Whenever I lose my temper, Universe has its way of punishing me. My ill fate took the best of me that day. My mother died four years after my father's death.
Ever since my dad died, I'd get this feeling that I'm the one responsible for it. That I am obligated to finish his unfinished business. And it makes my heart ich, as if something hard hit my throat and I can't seem to breathe, as if all of a sudden there is shortage of air and I'm fighing for my life, frightened, that's what I feel. Sometimes things don't even make sense, like when I feel threatened in my sleep.
I simply just want to do everything he ever wanted to do in life, and I know it's going to be hard to endure it all, and it won't be easy to keep track, and I would have to lose so much in order to reach his path, his goal, but that's the choice I'm willing to make, those are the things I'm willing to lose, it's the risk I'm willing to let it burn apon me.
Yes, there will be times where I would want to just give up and leave everything behind, but I won't let those Mere seconds of weakness end my dignity.
The fire in which they burned goes through in every vain of my body, and I can feel it boiling my blood with pain and sorrow. We only realise someone's worth when they're no longer near us. I guess that's the humanly nature, to care once it gets out of our hands, to tighten our grip when things are slipping away, to run when we no longer can walk. Humans are like this, too stupidly stubborn, and too eagerly egoistic. I guess that's me too, I guess that's how my dad was secretly.
I don't know what I'm going to do with my life.
But as for now, I just need to get through this interrogation. A case of fire and death of my mother. Our local police suspects its not an accident.
"What do you last remember?" The officer asked me.
"I helped a boy."
"Which boy?"
"I'm not going to expose his name." I look up at the officer. It's a bland room with only one chair and a table infront of me. He remain silent as he tsk his tongue.
"I respect it." He nod and stomped back and forth. After a while he sat down next to me.
"Look son, I know it's going to be rough on you, you're a child. But I need to ask some questions that might hurt."
"I understand." I nod.
"What were your last words with your mother?"
"Let me remember." I ask for time, my throat feels heavy and I might brust into tears but sure.
"Sure, take your time."
An hour before the incident.
"Sam, honey? Can you come downstairs for a mintue." My mom's calling me, I close my notebook and run downstairs.
"Yes ma" I say out of breath because I skipped two stairs at a time while running. I sat on the table and swang my feet.
"How many time have I told you not to sit on the table, what are chairs build for?"
"chairs are overrated anyway." I say teasingly.
Ma sighed.
"Anyway, guests will be ariving in a few minutes, so I'm going out to grab some milk from the market, I want you to behave yourself and lock the doors."
"What?" Annoyance crossed across my face "No, no, you're not going, I am. What am I here for? I'm here willing to work for my house!"
"You're ten, Sam"
"Almost eleven, but It doesn't matter, at least I'm still here." That came out wrong, my mom got quiet. dammit my mouth, I got near her and held her hand as I looked up at her.
"I'm here to do everything for you, and grabbing milk is the barest of bare minimum." A smile spread across her face and I'm relieved. She's the prettiest when she smiles. Ever since the death of my father, she doesn't have much to smile for. And I hate that I can't do more for her. She puts her hand on my head and pets me.
"I'm sure you are the strongest"
Mom said but her tone is still as If she's talking to a kid. Yeah sure I'm ten years old but I'm more mature than she thinks I am.
"Wait—What guests ma?"
Ma looked furious when I asked her that question, which is a bit weird. She took a deep sigh in.
"They're big people Sam. They liked my sweets so they'll be visiting our store soon for collaboration. They wanted to meet me first personally."
"Oh so we've got collaboration huh? are you sure they're not fraud?" I say. ma laughed.
"I'm sure they're not fraud."
"Okay sounds good, I'm gonna go grab tones of bottles of milk, you stay here, rest, don't move. I'll be right back" I place a gentle kiss on top of her hand and walked to the front door. A thought came to my mind so I turned toward her again. "Just because dad lost his life doesn't mean we stop living ours."
My ma smiled and nods agreeingly, and I left.
I reach market's middle most busy and Chaotic area. My town might not be the prettiest but its bearable, everyone's busy selling, buying, bargaining, one can never get tried of it.
I wish to do all the elderly things one day, and serve my mom with everything she deserves to have. I come running to the diary store, and stand there looking as cool as ever.
"Eh what do you want?" The man asked.
"Milk please" I smile wide. He handed me a bottle of milk, as I take the bottle from him, I hear noises of cheering and beating, so I turn to take a look. There seem to be a group of older kids surrounding someone.
I walk to them for a closer look. I push some random kid with my free hand and I see there's a kid my age laying on the ground.
He's covered in dust and mud, burises on his knee, he's wearing shorts and a button up shirt which is clearly now torn. I come to realise the older kids were clearly bullying him. I watch everyone around me firmly. It makes me feel all sorts of anger, hurt and grief, for the people who go through bullies like these on daily basis of life, either at home, education institution, or work place. Bullies are widely everywhere.
People who hurt others, can be so needy, it's just stupid to even think about.
But I know what I need to do, It's the one thing that won't ever sit right with me.
They're not scary to me, they're pathetic, and insecure.
I ignored them for now while I offered to give my hand to the kid laying on the ground, gving him a disappointing look. "And what do you think you're doing on the ground?" The kid looked upset about it, I mean obviously.
"If you were to be my place I would've asked you than." He grabbed my hand and I pull him up to me. His height tells why he's being bullied so easily.
"And who are you?" The older kid yelled at me, he's facing my back, I didn't bother look at him, I ignore him completely, I'm more focused on taking this boy out of here.
"Do you even know who I am?!" The older kid yelled again. oh how I hate rich kids.
"No, and neither am I interested in knowing." Of course now that I've insulted him, he's mad. He's a bully, all they do Is get mad. But I don't care, I'm not bothered by him. What bothers me is innocent people getting hurt by people who can't control their emotional sense. People who project their wrong doings on people like us who have never wronged anyone.
He begin taking a step closer to me, and I stiffen my posture. I'm not afraid of him, he's not scary.
Well maybe he is a little scary, and maybe my legs might start shaking but he's also you know what? A pathetic. He wouldn't know I'm afraid if I don't let him see that. I pretend not to be scared and that's all it takes for people like them to step back.
He's standing right in front of me, staring me in the eye. For a while we kept looking at each other.
"Don't you have something better to do?" I ask him. Because I'm genuinely concerned.
"I'm concerned, really. Where are your parents?" My tone may sound sarcastic, but I'm being honest.
He's silent.
"That's what I thought." I take a step away when he pushes me on the ground, gets over me and pulls me by my collars. "Don't interfere!" He shouted.
And so, I smashed the milk bottle I had been carrying, on his head. His forehand cut to bleed a bit.
Kids all around, gasped.
And that's why I say Anger is my worst enemy.
I defended myself and I don't feel bad, not even close to sorry. He fell on his head and I stand over him as a warning for him to run away.
Guess what he did.
He ran away.
Bingo.
Those Other kids ran away from that one action I did. Talk about real friends.
"Dammit my bottle.." I muttered under my breath. I'll have to get another one.
"Ifan"
I look back. The dusty kid is standing still, his clothes are ripped and muddy, his shoes are old and his shirt is even bigger than him. he looks navie.
"My name is Ifan" He offered me his hand.
Fate.
"And?" My voice is harsh.
"oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to seem of as clingy I—"
"I'm just messing with you, I'm Sam." I said, accepting his hand and we shook hands. Everyone has a start to their story.
"Now tell me, why were those kids not being nice to you?"
"Well uhm" His palms are sweaty.
"My uncle isn't very nice to people, perhaps that's why kids don't like us, and now my uncle is going to be very angry with me when I get home." His voice broke. A young boy with an accent and an evil uncle? What did I got myself into?
"Where are your parents?" I realise later, I shouldn't have asked that. Not everyone has good relation with their folks.
"It's okay you don't have to tell me—"
"They're not here anymore" He's looking down at his feet. Oh wow. I was thinking about relation. He can't even make one even if he wanted to.
"Let's go to my house, my mum would love to meet you, I'm sure of it."
My story began there.
"I tried changing the topic when we both got startled by A Huge Explosion." I tell the officer everything.
He's nodding.
"I saw her coming through the door.."
MOM STOP! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!
"And the roof fell down—" A tear fell down my cheek. "on her"
If only I was quicker.
Officer took a deep breath.
Someone peaked through the door. "Officer Adam, Mr Farukh is here for you."
Officer noded and waved him away.
He looked at me with pure sympathy and I'm repulsed by this feeling. Its sickening to me.
"What are you going to do with me now?" I ask.
I never thought my childhood would end like this. I never thought I would have to question myself like this.
"Kid" Officer sighed. "Your parents got you in a hell-hole. And this town might not be the most merciful to orphans, so you got to keep your caution widely visible."
"What will happen to me now officer?" My voice quivered.
He smacked his lips and released a pent-up sigh.
"You'll learn to survive kid."