The Inked Page of Truths

The Inked page of Truths.

I storm into the great trees of parenthood in search of my parents. The frigid air sends chills down my spine, leaving me breathless from the long river I come across. The tears of many children cry of the absence of their beloved parents. Many questions spill from their tongues.

" Where are my parents?!"

" I just want to go home!! Mom, Dad, come pick me up from this tormented place."

I only had one question: why do parents believe that leaving their children alone would be beneficial in realizing that without them, we are nothing?

Yes, we may not have money or power, but why could their parents leave them? As the pity grows in my heart, I ignore it, letting the beaming sunlight reflect on my milky teeth that have reached ear to ear. What other children may go through is unbelievable, but I'm just glad my parents are waiting for me with open arms. Or so I thought...

After the thorns of freshly bloomed roses scrap my knee, I view this pain as a trophy of my love for my parents. Yellow drapes, funky sidewalks, lovely parents jogging alongside their children. Some eat, some ride roller coasters, and some are left alone, with neither their mother nor father by their side. What a shame, but I come to the realization, I am one of those too. I have neither of my parents. They aren't welcoming me with their warm hugs, no smiles, no presents.

" Mama? Papa? I'm here!! your daughter..." I call out cheerfully but break down in tears as I mention the last two words. Where are my parents? What have I done? Did I fail my job as a daughter? Oh, how karma always comes back.

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" Good morning, dear." My mom hollered as she pulled away the drapes from the power of darkness and let the sunshine eliminate all evil from my room. "Well, as you take a little while to get dressed, I'll head off to the hotel. We won't be back in 10 days, so please behave. Call your friend to stay with you if you want; I'm sure he won't mind." She exclaimed as she left with tired eyes and an unanswered question.

"Why is she leaving me on my birthday...? Did she forget...?"

Whatever the reason was, it was understandable. I rise from the dead and drag my feet to start my blissful day. Naby-blue drapes reflect my room, leaving a sea-full aesthetic as the bed spells hypnotize me to sleep. I shake off the sleepiness in front of my bathroom mirror. Tangled hair smeared all over my face, as my sweaty body sticks to the thin cloth I have worn to bed.

After a freezing shower, I managed to call my friend. Allowing the irritating rings to hit all corners of this home cell.

"Hello?" The sweet voice of an angel sent goosebumps to my skin, filling me with arousal.

"Hello, boo!" I exclaimed weakly, still on edge from the sudden storm I encountered in my sudden awake. "Well, I know this may all seem so sudden, but can you crash at my place for a while...?" I wait impatiently. Sweaty hands grip the phone tightly; I get cold feet from his exhale.

"Yes, of course. want me to come now or...?" He rolls his 'r's in question.

I sigh but immediately inhale a shaky breath. "Yeah, you can come now, no rush. I'll prepare lunch in the meantime," I say in a quickened and breathless tone, and I hear small laughter from this device in my hand.

Hesitantly, I end the call and let the cool air from the air conditioner freshen up my face.

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The sink was filled with dirty dishes, sending a questionable aroma to the balcony. The sun sets its orangey yellow-ish ryas before our eyes, glistening at the city beyond us--a stare. I stare at the golden boy beside me, at my right. Right where he should be, his flourishing chocolate brown hair swayed among the air's power. A simple smirk with closed eyes, such as long lashes, must be a shield against God.

"You're drooling, fatma." He said with such certainty.

I shrug off the embarrassment and focus on the darkness that has covered us from the sun's hugs.

"I should go to bed," I say, running away from the pure sensation beside me. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait," the man behind me stopped me; what does he want? Does he know the effect he has on me?

"Why so quick? Why not have a little fun?" he added a cheerful tone on 'fun,' as if he knew how to.

Boo is not exactly someone who can have fun without any touching or some sexual activity. At our first impressions, I ordered boundaries, and after all these years, boo respected them, but why did I feel this would not end well? It was like fate told me to run away, go to bed, and not be around this man. He might be my friend, but what he does haunts me.

" Come on, fatma. Be that pretty and respectful girl to her virginity you always are, but tonight, I'll make you break those boundaries." He winked at me as he ended that sentence, assuming this would change my mind. Decisions in which I trusted him, but as time passed, I felt as if I had my heart pulled out from my chest and got crushed by millions of toe-truckers over and over again. The tension grew, I lost control of my breath, and soon my eyes shook in pure fear; why would such a man do this to a girl? Why, if she had boundaries, had respect? Must a man like him lose his mind and let all those benefits go to waste? I would have argued, but after such a long, silent time, I didn't realize it was too late.

It was as if I was hypnotized into another world just so this man would have his chance. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. He assaulted me after we had trust; after everything, he destroyed it.

May gods help him in the further future for the better.

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After the encounter yesterday, I had told boo to leave. I even raised my voice at boo to show that I could have power, but boo threatened that I soon grabbed what I could see and left the rage within me to take it all over this man. It was one of the things I could not deny; nothing to argue about. A single daughter is left alone in a two-bedroom apartment with a corpse before her eyes.

I killed boo.

I killed boo.

I killed boo.

What would my mother think of me? Should I report this? But they may find evidence that it's me. Recreating a story such as "Lamb to the Slaughter" would be the last thing I wish for this world, even for me! Oh, what a void, a void in which it sucked me into many questions, I am lost in this world.

Flies form around the garbage-filled body, biting off the elastic plastic that hides it. As I intensely stare at it, its slim body fits perfectly. His size should never be built like that, and he must've been smart enough to realize he was an easy target.

I snap out of my impulsive thoughts and focus on where to stash the body. Drive off? Well, I don't have a license. Throw it in a dumpster? No, DNA fingerprints would have been showing. Authorities would have thrown me to jail immediately. How about I bury him? That would work. We have a grass field right around this block that should work!

Mission failed successfully.

Three years later, I have now become a young lady. A lady who is now 14 years old can witness such events in the past and future.

"Happy birthday, fatma!" many of those shouted at my small birthday batch. I have hosted a party, just a reminder of what happened those years ago. It has become my trauma and the lesson I never thought I'd learn from. As rape may happen worldwide, it may happen to those within friends, family, and strangers.

"Those you trust so much may be why you have become so defensive."

It was too good to be true that a person may be able to trust another. Whether a woman or a man, it was nearly impossible for a stable relationship without discomfort; some would ask, but the majority used force.

Rape was not something I was proud of, but I did learn from the mistakes and the situational experience.

Back then, I was so worried that the earth would crash on me, such as a disappointment like me. But the world had brought me up, lifted me, and guided me to look beyond what lies for us.

Ever since that day, my mother had returned from her trip with my father. All smiley and enthusiastic, I had even thought her teeth were to connect with her ears.

"Oh, the view, the food, the young hot men," she gave me a wink as if we could relate somehow. The murder of boo was something I could not say but rather show. I have become a maneater. " They were so beautiful." she left with a huff, dedicating their majestic trip.

My father was left unbothered, eyes glued on his phone, barely any wrinkles except the ones between his brows. The tapping of texting fills my mother's ears as it has gotten under her skin.

"So, Mom, can we talk for a bit? I have something important to tell you, and I want you to hear me out." I gave a weary look as I walked on eggshells, causing to break out the egg, letting its yolk walk over me.

"What is it, dear? I'm exhausted. I don't have time for this, but since you insist, go on." She rolled her eyes as she gestured to let the words spill.

Should I lie? Should I create some scenarios?

"So, I just wanted to say that I was tired and was hop-"

"Must you always complain, fatma? It is tiring how you can complain, and I cannot!! You are just hilarious, aren't you? I cook for us, I clean for us, I held in my stomach for nine months, and yet who has you the right to complain? You are just a kid. Kids and children like you have no right to complain, as you have never seen or tasted the real world. It is scary, and it will eat you alive. " She came closer, swallowing my heart. " How could you all complain with no single taste of it? The single smell of it?! Fatma, swallow whatever bothers you. Swallow it up or let the world feast on your limbs." She had walked me on thin ice, drawing the line at carving the ice. I'm on edge; my back is against the wall, her teeth are gritted, and my eyes are shut.

Where am I? Will this end? Will this end?

It echoed in my heart. "Will this end?"

Now, I can finally answer this question.

s, it will end, and yes, it has ended. Realizing that whatever happened to me, I could finally open my heart. Let the world see the colors I paint on this world; flowers bloom, and buildings darken and shape cities.

A child who has searched for her daughter through trees of judgment, absence, and snobbiness. We have allowed all those judgments to scar us, but we have not let them enter our hearts. We escaped through hell, soon realizing it was all an illusion. Just because our parents have brought us to this world, let alone allow angles to sit on our shoulders, defy them as successors.

"What may seem obvious isn't obvious. What may seem like a happy family is a havoc family. What may seem like a trustful friend is a rapist."