Sometimes I wonder, am I exaggerating and dramatizing everything too much, or am I giving the reactions that are actually appropriate?
I guess I'll never know because sometimes I think that, as a girl who looks at the world coldly, people can't warm up to me and don't consider me worth talking to.
I don't know, maybe there's some truth under this thought of mine, maybe there's a reason, a cause, waiting somewhere for me.
Are you like that too?
I mean, do you look around coldly, or do you just watch?
But let me tell you, if you don't speak, they'll consider you cold too, they might even call you "wild."
"How do you know?" Don't ask, because I heard that phrase a lot when I was little.
Anyway.
But what about the people around us?
Do you think they're really by your side, or are they just devils wearing masks?
Because now you can't know what's coming from whom, you can't even trust the one you trust the most.
You can't turn your back on anyone, to avoid being stabbed in the back.
And you can't smile at anyone, so they won't make you cry.
Am I exaggerating too much, or am I telling the truth?
Even the highest court couldn't decide this because it's not God.
Of course, if there is a God…
But I think there is, you know?
Because when my heart is filled with troubles, a relief comes and tells me I'm not alone.
In those moments, I feel God.
But why, if He exists, He deemed me worthy of these things, I don't know.
Actually, my life isn't that bad.
I just want someone besides Nazlı and myself to hug.
I'm looking for someone to whom I can entrust my heart peacefully when I take it out.
I know that's what you want too.
But they crushed your heart in their palms,
They broke it when it wasn't supposed to be broken, like a piece of glass.
But now, sometimes even the Gods cry for me, shedding tears for my loneliness.
Maybe they're saying, "Be quiet already."
Because the community of devils inside my head is taking over me, saying, "Hold my hand and wear your mask too."
How crowded we really are, right?
You've probably seen thousands of faces up to this age.
You've probably talked to thousands of faces up to this age.
But which one could you fully trust?
You can't…
You're alone. Alone in the crowd. Notice that.
This dry crowd only tells you what you need to hear.
Not the real truths.
And at the end of the day, when you lay your head on your pillow, only the people who come to your mind matter to you.
Only they give value for us.
Because they have taken a place in our minds.
We think of them and value them.
But does this mean we can trust them?
Now that's something your heart and mind will know…
Because I think we exist as much as we feel in life.
And if the people we feel for didn't exist, we wouldn't either.
But if the people we feel for didn't exist, we wouldn't even realize that feeling is a silent suicide.
---
Taylan? Sarp? Parskan?
This couldn't just be an ordinary coincidence of names, right? Because how many Taylan Sarp Parskans could there be in the world?
I don't know that now, and I don't want to know. But if he is Parskan, my prey, then damn my luck.
This always happens to me, I'm used to it; that's why I don't find it strange anymore.
When I moved away as if to escape him, I turned up the music in my ears a little, because if I listened to myself I'd go crazy.
So the most reasonable choice now was to surrender myself to the arms of music.
I had paused when he told me his name, but I didn't say anything.
What could I even say? "Hi, I'm going to scam you, just so you know!" or "You were just hitting me, I almost called you an idiot?"
"Screw them!"
I had decided to walk home, but now it made more sense to get home as soon as possible, so I chose to take the bus.
On the way, I overthought like a king, and finally, I was home.
I didn't talk to the fridge today, I wanted to talk to the washing machine.
"Why do you always shrink my clothes, stupid machine?" I wanted to say, and I did.
But it didn't answer me.
Even the washing machine annoys me, I really want to kick it.
I want to kick it, but if it breaks I can't get a new one, stupid Liya, stupid.
Liya… I have no idea who gave me this name, but when I searched it on Google, its meaning surprised me a lot.
Patient, the best of patience, the most beautiful patience, and the most patient. It was as if someone knew what I would experience when naming me and told me to be patient, or at least that's how I felt.
It's a weird suggestion, but still, people want to hold on to something, look for meaning, want to see themselves as valuable in this meaningless life.
Because we are simple humans, only our thoughts make us valuable.
There was a family introduction at 9 PM, and by that time I had to finish my lessons and prepare myself for the meeting, adopt my role.
So I started by writing an essay.
While writing, I listened to Goldfrapp - Paper Bag.
This album relaxed me, truly relaxed me. I loved listening to music, especially rare tracks no one else knew.
Then I needed to read a little.
I had to escape from my stupid reality, so I threw myself into another world, and today's world was Lily in the Valley.
Yes, I liked this book, maybe it was the fourth time I was reading it, I don't know, but I would have read it a fifth time too, I'm sure.
I had to cut my hair.
My hair…
My beautiful hair…
The hair I couldn't bear to cut…
Hair carrying memories in every strand…
It upset me to let it go, but I had no choice.
I had to do it for my work, so after finishing my lessons, I reluctantly went to the bathroom.
Of course, I wasn't going to the hairdresser, I didn't have money anyway.
And I could cut it myself; I thought I was quite skilled, so I took the scissors and started cutting my hair like a cruel killer, ignoring the screams of the strands.
I kept cutting, I felt like I was relieved.
And finally, I stopped when it reached my chin.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, it felt like a different person was looking back.
Was this really me?
I touched my freckles to recognize myself, but still, I felt foreign.
Could the length of a person's hair change them this much, or am I just so unfamiliar with myself that I forget myself over the tiniest things, I don't know.
This length wasn't enough, I wanted bangs.
Yes, I wanted bangs, I had to have bangs.
And yes, I cut bangs too.
I was even more estranged from my estranged self, but still, I was beautiful.
I really was a beautiful girl, a very beautiful girl…
Who I resemble, I don't know, but whoever it is, they must be a very beautiful person.
There was no one to thank for my genes, but whoever they were, kudos to them.
I had a freckled face, bright green eyes, jet-black hair, an arched nose…
At first, in adolescence, I didn't like my nose at all, even in high school girls made fun of it.
The same with boys, but when I said, "It's probably bigger than your dick," they never opened their mouths again.
Let them not, sons of bitches.
Because my nose was maddening, I loved it, a lot.
And it suited me.
It added a characteristic air; my face wasn't ordinary, it was mysterious and unusual.
I could comfortably say this as someone aware of myself.
I was beautiful, really beautiful.
Although I would miss my long hair a little now, I also loved my short-haired self a lot.
Even though I felt foreign to myself…
It was time to get ready.
I had to dress, do my makeup, practice my role, and check Taylan Sarp Parskan's social media accounts a little.
But I couldn't get ready at home.
All the clothes I wore on duty were in Söğütlü, so I had to wait for Serhat to pick me up.
Meanwhile, I would check Taylan Sarp Parskan's social media accounts.
When I picked up my phone, the broken screen annoyed me.
I had dropped it recently and needed to replace the screen protector, but of course, I had no money.
Anyway, I opened Instagram and searched his name, it came up immediately.
Why did this guy have no posts?
I was extremely annoyed because I had to know the guy, he hadn't posted a single thing, annoying, so annoying.
And he didn't even have a profile photo, just a plain black picture.
What was he trying to do, hide himself?
No way, because there were magazine photos of him at nights.
I thought, his father couldn't seriously expect him to have a serious relationship.
Startled by the honking, I looked away from my phone. Serhat must have arrived.
This kid was strange, honking instead of texting.
I went out and down the stairs. I lived on the 4th floor, and since the building was like a shanty, there was no elevator.
So I hurried down; I didn't want to make him wait, I didn't like waiting or making others wait.
I got into the car, didn't talk to Serhat.
He was a quiet kid, didn't talk to anyone.
All he did was drive.
He was blonde, well-built, and tall.
Sometimes he looked very strict.
Although he was two years younger than me, he seemed five years older.
We arrived at Söğütlü; I said "See you" and got out of the car. The first to greet me was Isa.
Was he an idiot? Waiting for me at the door, seriously?
As soon as he saw me, he came up to me, stepped toward me, touched my hair again, and said, "You cut your hair, it looks good, and your outfit is ready, hawk. Semra is inside waiting to do your makeup. Hurry, we have two hours left." I realized the time.
It was really 7 o'clock.
I went in without saying anything.
I saw the dress hanging on the hanger, black and burgundy patterned.
Wasn't it too revealing for the first meeting, really? Did it need to be so bold?
But then I remembered I had to impress Parskan, so I said nothing to myself.
And I wore the dress, it looked good.
When I looked in the mirror, my hair looked amazing with the dress.
When I put on my black high heels, my height increased, and damn, I looked incredibly beautiful.
If this guy Taylan wasn't impressed by me, he must be gay, I thought.
I didn't like Semra doing my makeup, but since she did it very well, I didn't complain.
Since the dress was already very extravagant, she made simple makeup.
My facial features stood out more, I liked myself.
And now we were ready to go.
As we were about to leave, Semra grabbed my arm and stopped me at the door.
With tension on her face, she said, "We'll discuss our roles in the car. We added two more people, we'll look like a big family. They'll like it, after all, men from the Black Sea. Isa will explain the rest to you in the car; we've already discussed these things."
She was almost trembling.
I had never seen Semra like this; were these really people we should fear this much?
But unlike Semra, Isa was very relaxed.
I couldn't figure him out, should I? I didn't know, but I kept quiet because I knew if I thought too much, I'd lose my mind.
I turned to him and said, "Okay, we'll talk in the car," and we left the room and got in the car.
The car was big and spacious, completely black.
Isa really knew how to choose a car.
The two people who joined us in the car were Asya and Turan.
They were our field actors we used when scamming families.
We usually didn't take many extra actors; I guess this job was really serious.
It made my hairs stand on end and excited me.
As Serhat drove, we left the traffic behind and entered an empty road.
Isa began speaking with slight anxiety and calm ease.
"Listen, there's something very important, and that is we must be extremely careful. We must tread carefully like threading a needle, otherwise the guys will screw us. So we have no choice but to stay on edge. First, I'm the bride's brother, Semra is the sister, and Turan and Asya are the younger siblings. So we have a five-person sibling chart; our mother and father are deceased."
Semra introduced Züleyha this way, and our parents' absence pleased Züleyha because she didn't want to deal with parents.
So now, Züleyha wants us a lot, seeing us as an ideal family to deceive.
But they have no idea they've fallen into the shit pit.
And Liya… Hawk, the real important person, the owner of the prey, the hunter of the prey.
The greatest responsibility falls on you because after meeting, we won't stay in that house.
You will stay there to get to know them better and gather their weak points.
This is Züleyha's main condition. The woman wants to know you in detail, but actually, you will get to know them."
I was shocked by what I heard and angrily said, "Are you kidding? Staying at their house, this has never happened before, where did this come from? No, why do I have to stay? Is this a prank?" Everyone was silent.
And Isa, not pleased with my anger, turned to me with exasperation, "The woman wanted it, what can we do? Should we say no?"
"Semra barely reached the woman. Our mother cried too. Now don't cause trouble, for God's sake," he said.
Was I really causing trouble? I couldn't believe it. I was about to lose my mind; they were finally going to drive me crazy. And as we approached the house, they had already discussed all the other unimportant details. I was thinking because the guy I met today could really be Taylan Parskan; the possibility stressed me out. As we neared the house, we entered a forest road; I could already see the mansion from that distance.
Finally, we arrived at the house—or rather, it couldn't be called a house, a castle. It was exactly 9 o'clock, punctual; I like punctuality. Anyway, as we got out of the car, Serhat held my arm and, looking worried, whispered, "Liya abla, be careful, okay?" I was surprised, very surprised, because this kid didn't even talk. Was this job really that dangerous that even Serhat was telling me to be careful? I nodded to him as if saying okay.
I guess I had to realize this wasn't a toy job like the others. We got out of the car, and the silence was broken by my phone ringing. It was Nazlı calling. "Where are you, why aren't you checking my messages?" she said. Did she send a message? I hadn't seen it. Today, when I opened Instagram to stalk Parskan, I wish I had checked the messages too.
I cared about my friend and was upset I couldn't show it. With sadness and regret, I said, "I'm sorry, my love, I'm really busy. I have work, delivery work, carrying heavy loads. I'll write to you when I'm free, okay?"
And she seemed pleased with my explanation; the happiness in her voice increased: "Okay, my darling, my precious, I love you very much, okay? I only bothered you because I missed you, always be good, okay?" I wanted to squeeze her face. Silly girl, she was very sweet. I said affectionately, "Okay, my flower, I'll write when I'm free, you always be good. Don't forget I love you." Then I said goodbye and hung up.
But I didn't like lying; sometimes I felt like crying. Actually, carrying heavy loads wasn't a lie, I was really carrying heavy loads. Very heavy loads indeed.
We had entered through the mansion's iron gate. After a long walk, we reached the house's yard, and there was a guard at the door. I couldn't help but wonder, was this family really so hated? But they had taken in their real enemies.
This made me laugh, because the feeling of victory gave me pleasure. When we entered the house, the servants greeted us and directed us to the living room. Gold was heavily used throughout the house, there were paintings on the walls, and stairs leading upwards. It was the first time in my life that I had seen such a large house, but when I entered the living room, the tastelessness of the sofas caught my eye.
I thought to myself, Can someone like Parskan really be so tasteless? In the middle of the spacious living room, we were greeted by Mrs. Züleyha, and no one else was there. I was surprised; where was my prey? I wanted to see my prey, just in case today's man turned out to be him. Mrs. Züleyha approached with a big smile on her face and said, "Welcome."
Was this kindness a joke? Or perhaps the more likely possibility: it was a lie, fake, very obvious. Clumsy, I thought to myself. And when it was finally my turn, she stepped toward me into a hugging position and said, "So, my beautiful bride, that's you, Liya, isn't it?" I returned her gesture with a fake smile and said while hugging, "I'm not your bride yet, but I would love to be, ma'am. Being a part of a family like yours would be wonderful, I'm sure." My role seemed to please Isa a lot; he had to be impressed, after all, I had worked so hard.
Mrs. Züleyha seemed very pleased with my words. "Liya is as beautiful as her name," she said. Oh, help! This was the second time I'd heard that today. What is beautiful about patience? I thought to myself. When I thanked Mrs. Züleyha, we sat on the ugly sofas. No one else had arrived yet. The others were talking among themselves. I pretended to listen with a silly smile, but my mind was on my prey. Where was he? Let him come.
When Züleyha turned to me, she said, "I got to know you a little, Liya, thanks to your sister," and looked at Semra. "But you know we'll be staying together during these 9 days. I'm sure I'll get to know you better. I don't think you'll be like the other girls. With this beauty, it's very likely you'll impress Taylan." I was shocked inside.
Nine days? I thought, wondering how she knew. This was only our work completion process that we knew of. I had to know more details. How did she find out? I thought. But before I could ask, she continued, "Your sister said you're going abroad for school, dear. After the wedding, you'll do the honeymoon abroad as well," she said cheerfully. I smiled and agreed.
I needed to go to the bathroom, so after learning its location, I went upstairs. At that moment, I heard a yelling voice from the other side of the wall, probably an older man, most likely Mehmet Ali Parskan. But I ignored it. As I approached the bathroom again, I heard another yell. This caught my attention.
The sentence he shouted was: "I don't want this girl either, I don't want any girl. I don't want to meet anyone, okay? Leave me alone, I won't meet, I won't even look at her face. Just fck off already."* I realized he was talking about me. Stupid thing! As if I was that interested in you, I thought. I wanted to listen a little more, so I moved to a corner and heard Mehmet Ali Parskan's voice.
"Züleyha says this girl is beautiful; maybe you'll get along. Don't get angry immediately, and how dare you raise your voice at your father? You donkey, we told you to marry one of the girls you fancy, and you say no. I'm fed up with you and your whims," Taylan Parskan continued.
"Because of those stupid girls the woman finds, I'm going crazy. The first thing he does after coming from the army is boss me around. Where does he get these ideas from? From the husband he loves so much, or from the useless brain inside him?" he muttered angrily.
I decided not to listen anymore because my nerves were fraying. As if every girl was overly interested in him. I was already convinced he was ugly, of course, unless he was the man I met in the morning. Hoping it wasn't him, I went to the bathroom. I applied my red lipstick. Normally Semra didn't apply it, but I was addicted to red lipstick; I felt incomplete without it.
When I finished and came out, I went downstairs and entered the living room. I saw Mehmet Ali Parskan, who seemed to have finally come to join us.
As I moved further inside, a quiet "Sht"* escaped my lips. It was him! The man from the morning. It was him! Sht, seriously, sht!
And the guy wasn't ugly at all—he was incredibly handsome. I regretted calling him ugly. When I entered, Mehmet Ali Parskan's face lit up with a huge smile upon seeing me. "Beautiful girl, mashallah," he said. When Isa approved, I forced a polite smile. Sitting on the sofa, I tried not to look at Taylan Sarp Parskan, but I could feel his eyes on me.
When everyone fell silent, Züleyha broke the silence: "Honey, here is our beautiful bride, Liya. She's as beautiful as I told you, isn't she?" Mehmet Ali frowned and hinted: "Züleyha, wait a second! Will the young people get along? Will they want each other? Don't hype the atmosphere before anything happens!" Züleyha seemed upset; it was clear she didn't like being contradicted by her husband.
I thought to myself, Who likes being contradicted anyway? Züleyha didn't say a word. Just as complete silence returned, Taylan suddenly spoke. His sentence was two words and ten letters:
"I want."
I couldn't believe it. Was this a joke? For the first time, I felt I had to make eye contact with him, so I looked at him, and his eyes were already on me. When he looked at me deeply, there was a smirk on his lips. I quickly looked away; if I stared too long, I might have accidentally said, "You're so handsome." Even though I was good at staying in character, sometimes my honesty and inability to keep my mouth shut came out—I was blunt.
Everyone was shocked at his words, and when no one spoke, Taylan broke the silence again: "Why are you swallowing your tongues? You were talking so nicely just now." Züleyha, delighted, said, "We never expected this from you, so…" Taylan immediately jumped in, with a flirty and teasing expression: "I can't refuse beautiful girls, unfortunately," which made me roll my eyes.
Then Isa jumped in hurriedly: "We have work now, as you know, so let's go. We'll send Liya's things by car, or she can take them herself, whatever she prefers," and the stress of staying with them started to weigh on me.
Mehmet Ali Parskan said: "You could have stayed for dinner at least, coach, but oh well." Isa replied with a sly laugh: "We'll have more meals together, Mr. Mehmet Ali, don't worry."
After sending them off, only the four of us were left. Silence ruled the living room.
But suddenly Taylan said: "I'm going out, friends are calling," to which Mehmet Ali angrily replied: "What friends? Sit where you are; you can't go." Taylan, looking irritated, said: "I wasn't even five when I stopped obeying; enjoy yourselves." This seemed to annoy Mehmet Ali Parskan; his son being more dominant than him drove him crazy.
As Taylan headed for the door to leave the house, Züleyha turned to me: "Quick, go with him and see him off." Even though I didn't want to, I got up and followed him.
The guy was like an animal. I couldn't help but think how captivating his arms were, showing through the t-shirt and the tanned skin. He noticed from the start that I was following him.
When he stepped outside, I looked at him with a blank expression. What's wrong? I thought. He lifted his hand to his chin, examining my face. I didn't look away, trying not to seem timid. Finally, his last words were:
"I liked your long hair."