Her heart was in turmoil, her tormented soul in agony. The past and the present had merged, standing before her. Her naked body swayed on the chair. Slowly, she stood up in front of her nemesis. Today was the day of reckoning, today was the day of punishment. Today, she had finally found someone to hold accountable for her suffering. She looked at the man lying on the ground with disgust. Oh, how much he resembled him!
As he aged, he had become a copy of his father, standing before her like a criminal awaiting trial, his hands at his sides. Her brows furrowed; her teeth clenched, her jaw tightened. She held her breath, her diaphragm tensed. She clenched her fists and brought them down on his chin. The man crumpled before her like an empty sack. How could he resist anyway, with his hands tied behind his back and his feet chained to the metal? He had been starved and thirsty for days.
No, it wasn’t enough! He needed to suffer more, he needed to writhe in more pain.
“Do you remember?” she asked. It was obvious he couldn’t answer. How could he speak with his lips sealed?
“But how would you know? While your father cruelly tortured me, you were enjoying yourself. While I suffered in agony, enduring that woman's filth, you, you, you...!” she shouted.
Tears streamed from her nemesis's eyes.
“Why are you crying now? Did my words hurt, or should I say you’re crying for yourself? You knew, you knew everything, but you didn’t help me—is that why these tears?”
The man, exhausted, weakly shook his head from side to side. His back pressed against the cold floor, hands bound, legs bent, praying for death to come; his lips sealed tight.
She laughed, “Do you understand what it’s like not to speak now? This is how I stayed silent for years. You heard, you saw, you knew, but you didn’t speak!”
She bent down to grab the end of the chain connected to the metal. She had forgotten her nakedness, not caring about her dangling organ. She tightly grasped the chain with her hand. She struck the man’s writhing naked body with it. Blood pooled where she hit, a thin stream trickling from his inflamed skin. She grinned with pleasure.
“He hit me like this too, when I screamed that I was innocent. My back, my legs, and my soul bled. Do you hear, black fish? Ah! My mom used to call you that, black fish. There was also a yellow fish and a red fish.”
She laughed, her laughter filled with bitterness.
“She would call us to dinner from the balcony, her black hair flowing down. Yellow fish, black fish, red fish, come to dinner! You remember, don’t you?”
Her nemesis’s chest heaved violently. He was in pain, that was clear, and he was crying. Memories resurfaced within that vile smile, overwhelming him, and now death was as close as a breath away.
The chain wrapped around his neck, and he didn’t resist, couldn’t resist. He had no strength left to fight, nor did his soul have the will for such agony. Were the traces of the past ravaging his soul, or was it the cheerful face of the yellow fish? As his breath stopped and his soul found eternal peace, something unexpected happened. Beside him were two shadows, one big, one small; one was Samet, the other was Enes. They reached out their hands, calling him.
“You found us, find us…”
There was another shadow lurking in the darkness.