Albiz |  Sound of Life

Albiz | Sound of Life

Come on, do you feel it? I say get up. Immediately take all the bread in the house to the table in the garden. They are just a few minutes away.

I still live with this being, whose voice I can only hear at the beginning of my bed at the same time every night. His breath next to my right ear at exactly three in the night … Sometimes a female voice, sometimes a teenage male voice. Whatever he tells me I have done it by this time. Today I will tell you what you have done and done for me since I was ten. This will be my first loud scream in my life. I will write what I went through when you are not with me. If something happens to me, nobody should blame me. Because what I went through is not from delusion or my mental balance. Because of my obligation to live with this being, whose name I do not know, but which I overflow every night.

You know ours. My mom and dad are very modern people. One hand is in oil and one is in a vineyard. With the inheritance of my grandfather, my family can live comfortably for a lifetime. Of course if I can one day start a family.

I was ten years old. One October evening, I woke up to the sounds coming from the garden. My mom and dad didn’t seem to pay much attention to the noise. The faded paintings my mother hung on the walls when I left my room were already enough for me to be afraid. I walked from my room upstairs to the newly polished stairs. Although there was some fear in me, I still wanted to see the movement in the garden. If I broke my foot but could not get down. I made the transition from our large living room to the kitchen. Meanwhile, I turned on all the lights that touched my hand. The interior of the house sparkled when I reached the kitchen door. Exactly eight people were sitting at the six-person table in our garden. Men with mustaches, fancy women and a few kids. I wondered if my mother and father’s friends had come? What were they doing at this hour?

One of the children was just adoring me. He was making the sign to come with his hand and invited me to the garden. In anxiety and wonder, I unlocked the door. When I stepped into the garden, they got up with very slow movements. They were all shorter than me. The hunchback on their backs was evident … I shut my mouth so as not to scream. When both fear and curiosity mix, a very different feeling occurs. Actually I could escape. Normally I was supposed to do this. I think I was frozen at that moment. I woke up in my bed with a very violent slap on my face. I could not control my breathing. My eyes were looking left and right. My room light was on. I ran and called mom. There was no sound from ours. Zikkis were also locking their doors. From the top floor I walked up the stairs again. I saw the open lights of the hall. The lights I thought I just turned on. I said, “Don’t,” I said to myself, “don’t stroke”. On the one hand, I’m calling out to be parents. Thank goodness my mother opened her door. “What’s up what’s up?” When he asked, I was stuck to his waist. “What happened to my lamb?” I said, “Mom, I’m so scared, sleep with me.” He said, “Okay, you turned on all the lights. I’m coming to your bed now.” Paldır culture went downstairs. Soon he went up, spokenly. “You’ve turned on all the lights. The garden door is open. The table in the garden is full of bread, baby what are you doing?” said. The woman shivered a little when I said, “I didn’t do it, mom.” We slept together, albeit hard, that night, saying “repentance to repentance”. In the morning, I told my mother and father all that I had gone through. I don’t know if they believed me … My mother gave a written prayer to my hand. He said nothing would happen if you read this. Until I went to school that day, I could not forget what I went through. I continued to live as if nothing happened when I arrived at school.

The actual beginning and the continuation of the events would take place a day later. After dinner, I lay down on the sofa with the tiredness of the night before. I fell asleep. As you know, our people could not move me from my place with the glory of masculinity.

Come on, wake up!! It was standing in my head when I opened my eyes. This time he was wearing a long white dress. His jet-black hair was thick and long. My tongue is stuck. I could see my inner shivering and my toes shaking. No matter how determined I was to scream, I couldn’t even quietly make a sound. Only the muscles in my jaw could move. Time for the people at the door to eat. Get up!

Until this age, I had not even removed my own plate from the table. Was I going to prepare dinner now? I got up with his order. I followed the woman with slow movements. I bought the bread that my mother had put on the counter. I opened the garden door. It was all there. My hands trembling, I approached the table. I left the breads. I want to cry. I cannot cry. I want to escape, I cannot escape. I want to breathe, even that is limited. I quietly turned around. I put all my fingers into my mouth to quench my hands. I found the location of the bed in the living room by rubbing my braced legs against each other.

That day I realized that this was going to be my life. I used to put the bread I bought from the grocery store every day, secretly from my mother, inside my bag. At exactly the same hour of the night, I woke up and started giving the bread. I am sure if I had made this an event at the time, I would have a living and aging life in the forest today. The night of my fourteenth birthday. It was an ordinary birthday when we blow candles as a family. My first step into being a man. I woke up at the same time of night.

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