It still wasn't dark yet, but I was too stressed to just sit at home. I wished I had my phone so I could call my friends to come to the park. I started wandering the streets aimlessly; the throbbing pain in my wounds made every step feel heavier. I headed for the nearest park. The sun's heat pressed down on me, and the thick, humid air made my vision blur—I felt like I might collapse at any moment.
The park was a wide, open space where anyone could sit, picnic, or play football. I sank into the shadow of a massive tree tucked in the quietest corner. Birds chirped softly, the wind whispered through the leaves, and for a moment, the world felt still. I leaned back against the tree and closed my eyes, letting the peace fight against the dark thoughts creeping in: if the police found the body too late, the evidence might vanish. I'd have to return under the cover of night to be sure.
Then, with my eyes still shut, a voice broke the silence:
"Selamün aleyküm, young man. Do you mind if I sit with you?"
I opened my eyes. An old man with a long, silver beard stood before me. "Of course, please sit, uncle," I said. He lowered himself beside me and rested his back against the tree.
"What's your name, son?"
"Rüzgâr."
"Mine is İsmail. How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
The conversation grew heavier. Uncle İsmail spoke of regrets that weighed on him like chains. He had once caught his wife with another man and, in a blind rage, killed them both. His eyes glistened with tears, his voice shaking:
"I wish I hadn't killed them… I wish my life hadn't rotted away in prison…"
He said he hadn't intended to kill—he only wanted to hurt the man—but the devil had whispered in his ear:
"If you don't cleanse your honor, you'll never be able to face anyone again."
If only he could take that moment back… He'd been in prison for two months before the world forgot him.
"I wish I could go back in time and not hurt anyone," he whispered.
Then, locking his gaze with mine, he added:
"Listen, son—only the One who gives life can take it. Don't ruin your life in a single moment of rage."
"Okay, uncle," I said. The shadows were stretching across the park. I had to leave. Uncle İsmail's words lingered in my mind as I made a silent vow: I would do whatever it took to avoid prison. I shook his hand, asked for his permission to leave, and stepped away.
I paused at Nevzat's shop. My unease showed plainly on my face.
"I can't work today," I admitted. Nevzat frowned, saying they were busy, and asked why. I explained that I had fallen yesterday, my hands ached, and I'd bought some cream from the pharmacy. The lie felt like a lump in my throat; I despised it. But poverty left no choice: lie, or go hungry.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery reds and oranges. I reached the vacant lot. Every shadow seemed alive; I moved carefully, trying not to draw attention, when a sudden shiver ran down my spine: I was being watched.
I spun around, heart pounding…
© Arif_Ergünöz, 2025. All rights reserved