Back and forth, back and forth...
He reclines against the rocking chair, eyes shut. His hands tightly grip the armrests as he rocks. Back and forth, back and forth... The squeaking of the chair's legs against the wooden floor summons a point within his brain to action, yet he continues to resist. Back and forth, back and forth...
The clock on the wall ticks away. Tick, tock... Tick, tock... Tick, tock...
In a room lit by yellow light, he broods, the night casting its sorrow, anger, darkness, and mercy upon him. He drags his moldy memories under the yellow light.
"Red fish swimming in the lake, twisting and turning. Fisherman Hasan is coming, casting his line..."
Under the table, a small body is tucked away, a fairytale book in hand, a toy with yellow hair cradled in her lap...
"Red fish, swim away..."
Her giggling song mixes with the sound of leather shoes. She stops, wraps her doll in a blue blanket in fear, "How many times must I tell you not to play with dolls?" and she trembles. Her father had seen the doll. She feels the fury of his voice throughout her body.
"Get out from there, you little bastard!"
Tears drip from her eyes onto her hand, she leaves the blanket under the table and crawls out. Shiny, newly polished leather shoes stand right before her. She is scared, unable to lift her eyes to meet her tormentor's face. The yellow light from the ceiling lamp illuminates the tormentor, casting a terrifying shadow that falls right into her heart.
"I won’t play anymore, dad."
Hands that she thinks look like claws grip her shoulders.
"Stand up!"
Her thin legs tremble as she rises.
"Please don’t hit me, dad!"
She covers her face with her hands. The tormentor laughs. "I’m never going to hit you again, you little bastard, I’m rid of you forever."
Tick, tock, tick...
The ticks that strip away her memories under the yellow light force her eyes open. The sound repeats relentlessly. She stands up from the chair. Tick, tock, tick...
"You need to get rid of him," whispers a voice emerging from a dark corner of her mind. She smiles;
"I need to get rid of him," she repeats, surprised; for the first time, she speaks the same language as the whisper.
"Yellow fish swimming in the lake, twisting and turning. Look, the guard is coming, sharpening his knife. Yellow fish, swim away! The knife is cutting you."