They say there was a liar once; his candle burned until the night prayer. I wonder how long mine will burn? And when will it reach its end? I don't know… The only thing I know is this: the liar here is not me, I am not a liar, I am a deceiver outright.
The night had wrapped my body like a shroud; cold, heavy, and unbearable. In the embrace of night, the stars glimmered faintly, like the dull tears of a distant prisoner. And the moon, like a wandering ghost, hung in the sky, silently watching over the city. The city… in the dark heart of that dream it beat, it breathed, but it never slept. Every street corner was filled with trapped stories, broken hopes, lost dreams. The whispering wind was like a secret carved into the darkest cellar of the soul…
And I, Liya Tunç, am a ghost searching for herself in that cellar; my words drowned, my emotions fragile beneath a thick sheet of ice.
The echo of my footsteps collided with the silence of the night, and my loneliness grew in every quiet corner. My feelings coiled around my heart like a serpent, tightening, choking me. My reason tried to resist like a helpless child; but it could not keep itself from falling into the endless abyss of my heart. That fall was my tragedy; inevitable, painful, and all too real.
Inside me, there was a tiny girl hidden in the darkness; silent, wounded, yet unyielding. A heart that struggled quietly, trying to understand the cruelty of life. Every lie, every betrayal, every burden melted her a little more; yet she clung to life breathlessly. I hated it.
And I, Liya Tunç, while walking in the shadow of that child, try to exist in this dark city. As if with every step I vanish a little more; but instead of vanishing, I grow a resistance within that nothingness.
The deeper I am pulled into the darkness, the more I see not just emptiness, but also the silent screams echoing in the depths of my own soul. This silence is both my strongest weapon and my most terrifying prison. Lost in the labyrinth of my own mind, far from the noise outside.
This story is not one of surrender; it is the tale of a soul curled beneath a heavy burden, yet blossoming like a delicate flower defying the darkness. The whisper of a heart trapped between shadow and light, yet never giving up…
And that heart still beats. It keeps beating.
---
That night, while thinking about that shitty message from İsa, my whole night was ruined. What did he want again? What the hell did he want? Couldn't we ever just sleep peacefully?
I lit a candle, just to calm myself a little. The yellow flickering light of the candle danced across the room, and words were not enough to describe the unrest inside me.
Anyway, I tried not to think, focused on my nonexistent sleep, and attempted to rest. I had class in the morning, I had to wake up early.
Still, when I couldn't control myself, I grabbed my book and started reading. Nazlı was sleeping, so at last I had the chance to make coffee. Because when she was awake, she wouldn't let me drink it. After reading my book peacefully and drinking my coffee, I fell asleep.
When the first lights of morning streamed through my window, the unique smell of the breakfast Nazlı had prepared filled my nose. This girl knew her craft, I admired her cooking.
I went to her side secretly, hugged her, then kissed her on the cheek. Without saying a word… That seemed to make her happy. She liked it when I kissed her for no reason. Sometimes it felt as if she were my mother and I was her stubborn daughter. I liked these motherly gestures of hers; because I realized she was trying to fill one of the greatest voids in my life.
Nazlı's family valued her greatly; but toward me they harbored the opposite—hatred. They did not see me as someone in her life, but as a danger leading her astray. They thought I would harm their one and only, the girl they had raised like a delicate treasure. But I loved her more than my own life. She was the only person I loved in this world. She was my Nazlı.
Suddenly Nazlı nudged me, pulled her chair closer, and began speaking with sadness and anger:
"Yesterday I told you Mert and the others had broken up, but I guess they haven't. I'm so upset. I swear it's your evil eye, you talked so much about that boy. Of course they'd break up, you're jinxed girl, cursed eyes. I knew there was a reason behind their kissing, did you cast a spell or something? Tell me, don't scare me."
I was shocked and annoyed by this endless sentence. I pulled my chair closer to her to look serious and said:
"Girl, are you stupid? I wouldn't lift a finger for that brainless idiot. Now shut up and let's eat our breakfast."
Nazlı was hurt, but she moved her chair away from me like she was scared, then eagerly continued:
"Come on, love, my darling, my friend, guess what? Forget Mert. Shall we go out tonight? We'll hang out, wander, drink—wouldn't that be nice?"
I was just about to agree when I suddenly remembered İsa's business and rejected at lightning speed:
"No, I have work tonight."
"Girl, what work? You're lying, you don't have any work."
I felt guilty for lying to her, but there was nothing else to do.
"My one and only, my darling, if I say I have work, then I have work."
"What kind of work then? Tell me."
"You know İsa, the delivery guy, he's having me deliver some packages, that's why he called me."
I explained vaguely. To me, İsa was like a delivery man. He was receiving smuggled goods from abroad. He made me distribute them until I grew into it. So technically I wasn't lying. After all, there was most likely a package. What was the worst that could happen?
Nazlı got angry, stood up irritably, and said:
"Fine, we get it, İsa this, İsa that, but we never understand what these packages actually are."
"Come on, Nazlı, just packages, you know, whatever the customer wants, nothing specific."
Yes, I was right; there was nothing specific.
While our conversation went on like this, I had to get ready and leave. I needed to catch class, and once again I would have to use that damned public transportation. Passing by thousands of faces, I always wondered what stories they carried inside, and that truly unsettled, even scared me.
Faces pass, stories remain silent,
Lives fill under shadows…
When I reached school and headed toward my classroom, a hand grabbed my arm and stopped me.
Ateş…
An idiot.
A brainless fool.
A stupid jerk.
He was a guy I had once delivered a package to through İsa, and ever since that day he wouldn't leave me alone. He said he liked me. I told him countless times he wasn't my type, but the fool wouldn't understand. He had to keep bothering me.
"Girl, look, let's go on a date this time, please? I've been chasing you for a year, stop being coy."
"Then stop chasing."
"Just once, girl, just once."
"Get lost, or I'll slap you with the back of my hand, and then we'll see about that date." I said angrily, shoving him aside, and entered my class to get away. He really was a fool.
Inside, I saw Eylül. As always, she was looking at her phone.
Eylül was one of my closest friends at school. Not as close as Nazlı, but she was nice, harmless, kind, and shared her notes. For me, those were good enough reasons. I sat beside her and said:
"What's up?"
She lifted her eyes from her phone, pretending to be happy I spoke to her:
"All good, babe, and you?" she said.
Why was she happy I spoke? And yes, how did I know? Because the only thing missing from her was grinning ear to ear with joy. Was I really that distant? I thought to myself, but didn't say it. If I was that cold, why did people even talk to me?
On our shared bench, she scooted closer with an excited tone:
"Tonight is Efe's birthday, you're coming, right?"
"Damn birthdays, the one thing I hate the most is celebrating them."
I had accidentally said that damned sentence out loud. I hated blurting things I didn't want people to know—it was a trauma of mine. I didn't like birthdays, and I never would.
She must have been surprised by my words because she said nothing, and I quickly tried to cover it up:
"No, honey, I have work. You guys have fun," I said, turning to face forward and waited for class to start.
Finally, the day moved on. It was 12:30, and I had left school. For lunch, I met up with Deniz, Eylül, and Nazlı. Deniz was Eylül's friend, and I was already like a twin with Nazlı. Since we had different classes, we weren't always together, but sometimes she got permission from her family and came to stay over at my place—just like last night.
Deniz was staring at her phone, looking extremely happy. Nazlı noticed immediately, leaned in toward her, and said:
"Ooo, looks like someone's up to something again, congratulations!"
"What? No, stop it. After Sercan, I swore off relationships, girls. You take care of yourselves."
Eylül suddenly gasped in shock, covering her mouth with her hands:
"Girl, you were on a date just yesterday, don't lie."
"Little pink lies don't hurt, honey. Besides, you judge me constantly—what good would it do if I told you?"
Nazlı, irritated, turned to her while walking, grabbed her arm and said:
"Because they are things to be judged. Sercan cheated on you ten times, and you forgave him ten times. Isn't that worth judgment? And you're still thinking about him. Otherwise, no one would care if you went on dates."
I immediately jumped in, because I couldn't keep my mouth shut:
"Look who's talking, driving me crazy over Mert, and now saying this. We should be judging you. You two fall for idiots who treat girls like games and cheat on them. Get a grip." I complained irritably.
And yes, maybe I really was irritable. But what could I do? I couldn't stand such things.
We ate our meal. It wasn't expensive, just a diner, but it was enough to fill us. After hugging them goodbye, I took the bus again, and after another miserable ride, I finally reached my home.
Home.
My home.
Welcome home.
"How are you today?" I said as I entered. The furniture, as always, gave no reply, but the refrigerator made a sound—either because it was broken or alive. Whichever you choose, I choose the first.
I walked across the cold tiles. Even with socks on, I was freezing, because there was no carpet in my home; the floor was ice cold. I couldn't pay the gas bill, last month's debt had just been settled, and that damned İsa kept saying, "I'll pay you," but he never did. I couldn't properly get the money for those nine days of backbreaking work, nor could I amount to anything.
---
And now, I had to meet him again.
I was going to lose my mind, sooner or later. From exhaustion, I'd collapse against a street corner. Despite all these possibilities, I put on my black pants, black sweater, and black coat, left my hair down, and left the house. I didn't put on makeup, because I was going to such a shitty place anyway, what was the point?
This time I wouldn't use public transport, because the moment I stepped outside, a luxury Mercedes was waiting for me at the door. Inside was a familiar driver and Cuma Abi, waving at me.
Cuma Abi was a master of errands. İsa trusted him most. He was educating his children, and although he didn't want to, he had to do this work. He always treated me kindly, because he had known me since childhood; he saw me like one of his own kids. But this bothered İsa. Because he was a maniac, he liked that I was alone; maybe he was right—I had to be alone. He hated most of all the people around me, my friends, my acquaintances, everyone. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop him from finding out.
---
I got in the car, and Cuma Abi greeted me immediately. He was sitting in the front seat, and at the wheel was Serhat, only nineteen years old. He too had been dragged into this business.
Cuma Abi turned around and said:
"How are your classes going, girl?"
I couldn't hide my joy at his concern.
"Well, brother, I'm working, trying to do something," I replied.
Even the smallest crumb of attention turned me into a little girl again. Yet here I was, at twenty-one, and the little girl inside me had long crumbled away.
---
Finally, we arrived.
Cold, pitch dark, mold-smelling warehouse.
İsa was waiting, standing.
When he saw me, he impatiently walked toward me, and his voice echoed as he said:
"Girl, you're going to be rich, this time you've hit the jackpot."
What jackpot, what wealth? I wouldn't say, because he said the same thing every time. And nothing ever came of it.
"What is it this time? Tell me already, I don't want to stay in this filthy place any longer," I said, as if my own home was spotless.
He stepped closer and said:
"Girl, the Parskan family—we found them, this time we reached them, we found them, girl, we found them! Your new target is this little hawk. Nine days, and you're getting the money."
I turned on him angrily, stepped back, and my voice darkened:
"Are you insane? Today is only the 11th, we just finished a job two days ago. What job now? We start on the 1st of the month, not the 11th, you idiot."
I walked toward him and said: "I won't do it." He got angrier, came closer, and shook me hard:
"You're forced to do this, bitch, you know that, don't you? You're forced to me, forced. So shut your mouth, sit where you belong."
I couldn't stand what I heard. I broke free from his grip, walked toward him, and slapped him. He staggered. Good. What did this son of a bitch think he was?
But then I thought a little, and realized I had no choice. Because I had no money. I was poor. I was pathetic. And whether I wanted to or not, I had to accept some things.
I shoved him, my eyes burning with rage:
"I'll do it, but not because I'm forced to you. I'll do it, but not because I owe you. I'll do it, but because of him, you know that."
No matter what I said, deep inside, the little girl in me still felt a deep gratitude to İsa.
And yes—
I was a swindler.
I was a woman who lured wealthy families, drew their sons into the net, pressed a knife to their throats. I had nine days to finish my job. If the ninth day came and it wasn't done, we were finished, the gang was finished, the packages, the deliveries, the goods were finished. That's why I was always on edge. I had been doing this since I was eighteen. It was the only way to make money in this business, and once again, I accepted. Because I had no other choice.
I, Liya Tunç, a woman forced to do the things I hated, constantly testing her reason but always falling to her heart, trying to grow the little girl inside her.
And once again, I accepted.
Why? Because I had no other choice.
Inside me, a broken little girl still existed.
Chained, silenced, forgotten, suppressed.
Between the cold walls of my reason,
My heart bled silently, buried deep, bleeding tears.
I am not a liar.
I am only a fragment of a soul drowning in lies.
Outside, the world spins,
Noisy, cruel, and blind.
While I, like a shadow,
In the deepest well of solitude, am blind to the world.
The cold breath of betrayal on my neck,
But I do not surrender.
Because at every moment I collapse,
Even in the icy death beneath the ground,
A fragment of resistance sprouts.
Now I understand this:
Darkness is not a door opening to light,
Nor is it all the hopes you leave behind when it closes.
It never will be.
It is only the barest, most painful state of existence.
And I, Liya Tunç,
A woman defeated, broken, shattered;
Yet still, I am here.
Not only to survive,
But to be the poet of my own lostness.
And this darkness,
Before it swallows me whole,
I will breathe once more,
And within silence I will scream;
That I exist, that even if I am defeated, I still fight.
In these dark streets, in this cold warehouse,
The world was so strange, so cruel to me.
Yet still, in my heart,
There was a spark.
That spark was the last reflection of resistance and hope.
With every breath, I gathered more strength.
The little girl inside me,
Defied the darkness.
And I, with that little girl,
Chose to live anyway.
Because I knew;
Even within pain and betrayal,
Life still held a hidden light of hope.
And I, to find that light,
Would keep walking through the darkness.