This is a story I had written a few years ago. Upon having read it again I just realized how dark it was. Well if you ever feel that way just a friendly reminder that such moments do pass...All that's left to me from such moments are stories and poems.

I cannot hear you --

I hear a voice that's echoing beneath the cliff. I cannot make anything out of it though. Could it be the voice of a siren calling me to my death ? That's why I am standing here now, anyway. It would be absurd eh.The reason why I am here is death. I mean embracing it.

That's it.

When was the last time I had felt someone else’s body pressing towards mine in terms of embracing ? Could be more than a year.I must have enjoyed my solitude.I saw a reflection of the traffic lights on the window against which I was pressing my head uncomfortably to find the best position to enjoy my short nap.It feels as if I will never reach my destination.Where and what was the destination ? Was I trying to go some specific place where I would find solitude or was it something I was trying to reach like death itself ? I don’t know. - That’s the sentence I use most of the time nowadays. I don’t know why either -
It might the bus that’s taking me from Istanbul to Ankara or just a simple journey that will leave me in the state of death.It could be both.It’s quite confusing.I cannot make anything out of it.

I am dazed by the reflection of the traffic lights. The old hag sitting next to me has been snoring like a grizzly bear.I feel like stocking my rotten socks in her mouth.God knows why I think of such things that I’ll never be able to attempt to do.
Was I seriously travelling in a bus ? Now that my left leg is getting wet somehow, I doubt that.I didn’t know I was in a park.Seems like Retiro.There is a dog that has been licking my leg for some god damn reason that I cannot comprehend.I feel the urge to kick him but I just cannot do it to that poor creature.What a wanker.

Suddenly I hear a coarse voice again.It’s not a mellow one surely.She might be around 60.I look around and realize that now I am in the classroom.There are a few broken chairs like her broken voice.She is pointing at something.An inscription I guess.There are a lot of girls,ugly ones.I had never liked them except for one but that’s not the point now I guess.

I had never seen anyone amongst you who have ever had the ability to write a worthwhile short story.

I sink in my sorrow upon hearing that.I wish that I had a revolver to blow up my head and paint the walls so that I will have only one masterpiece that I can brag about.She wouldn’t let me do it either.

-What a fat bitch.

How sexists I can get.I wonder.There is no limit when it comes to my foul mouth I guess.She makes me think that everything I had written so far had been in vain.No one can know the nullity of my inexplicable existence.

She dismisses the class.

I taste something salty.My eyes are shut.I can feel the woolen cardigan of my mother.It has gotten wet.Quite wet.Thanks to my tears falling because of my shattered heart.Love ache.I realize.It seems as if my eyes were bleeding. She smiles,caressing my hair.

She knows it won’t be alright.I know it won’t be.We play the game,anyway.I know I won’t get calm until I cry my sorrow out.

I feel something warm flowing down my wrists and body alike.I remember that I had slit my wrists half an hour ago.I thought I was dreaming.I realize that I was just having hallucinations.I feel like an undeveloped film burning under the rays of sun at the moment.That’s something felt momentarily I guess.I am perishing bit by bit as the blood is squirting out of my arteries.

I feel remorseful for heeding the deed.

Mother help me ! I shout in a low pitch.

I had locked the door.She won’t be able to get in.This is the end I know.I remember that was hanging the laundry outside.The whites she had just washed half an hour ago.They will get stained soon...

I can’t hear you... That’s all she says.