CHAPTER 14
SHATTERED GENIE BOTTLES
I am human...
If I don't have wings and can't fly, I'll climb to the highest mountain peak, and then I'm flying.
I am human...
If I can't get what I want, I want what I get, pretending I've always wanted it.
I am human...
If I get tired while running, I walk, but I always move forward.
I am the Apocalypse Pony.
Even if the world turns into a battleground, I'll still smile in the end.
Sometimes our tongues want to ask, our minds run wild, but our hearts silence us. We don't ask someone we know is in pain about their troubles. Why is that?
It's not about ignoring their wounds. A revealed wound always seeks to be bandaged. Nobody wants to say that with all the bandages in life, there's no medicine that can be given to them. That's why we don't ask about the pain that hurts. It's left alone, and life goes on.
Although Murat wanted to ask what happened, he consumed himself knowing he couldn't do anything. They were sitting with their backs against the garden wall. Ayça had gathered herself. She was breathing more calmly now and smiled when she saw their worried faces.
When Murat saw those smiles as insufficient and fake, he asked out of curiosity,
"Are you okay now?" It wasn't too probing a question. Tolga, too, looked at the girl sitting between them, curious for an answer.
Ayça laughed at their concerns and looks, dismissing the situation with a smirk.
"Yes, I'm always fine. Have you forgotten?"
The two boys, now familiar with her famous phrase, both constructed that well-known sentence with a little touch before she could say it,
"Even if the world turns into a battleground, you'll still be the one to smile in the end."
Ayça smirked back at them and nodded in agreement. "Correct." Then, she grimaced as she pulled up her knees, seeing the injuries. She hadn't lived life fast enough here to fall and get hurt or get involved in situations that would hurt her. Scabs would form on her knees, and Ayça would see these scab scars as a welcome sign to the town.
Tolga stood up, dusting off his pants from sitting on the ground, caring about his appearance and cleanliness. Then he focused on another matter of importance. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he looked indifferently at Ayça.
"Good, since you're fine, let's go study."
He never joined any study groups, preferring the quietest spot in the library to study alone.
He had always studied alone. But lately, he was constantly studying with Ayça, even letting her sit at his desk. This caught Murat's attention but he put it aside for later. Now, the problem was forcing Ayça, who obviously wasn't okay, to study.
Murat blinked his long-lashed eyelids several times as if he couldn't believe what he heard.
"Are you serious?" he said, reacting to Tolga. Then he expected him to be understanding. "She might have said she's okay, but she still needs some time, Tolga. Be understanding."
Tolga rolled his eyes. The word 'understanding' seemed almost funny to him, but he wasn't about to laugh. He didn't have time to waste on her.
"Understanding? Unnecessary... Apocalypse Pony must have done something again and now that it's backfiring, she's acting like this."
Ayça laughed; it was a battle of nerves. The anger she feared to let out since yesterday had now found a way to show on her face through her smile. Slowly she stood up, even the pain in her knees was a minor thing to her.
She had always gotten injured since childhood and didn't care much about it, not about the injuries from running and falling, but about the deliberate stabs and wounds people wanted to inflict. She stood in front of Tolga and looked at him with a stern gaze.
"It's always my fault, isn't it?"
Tolga dismissed her annoyance; everything he said was just the evident truth. He didn't understand why she was taking offense now.
"What's the matter? Have you just started to analyze your character?"
He remembered he had said something about character to her before.
"You're like all the villains in movies; they don't introduce you but just show your actions because there's no need to understand you. You're a known villain."
Ayça didn't really think like every other person. She was the protagonist...
Of her own life. And if someone tried to fit her into the narrative of a villain, she wouldn't accept it. She wouldn't fit into the mold they wanted because she wasn't made to be molded. But now, she couldn't find the strength to fight for that acknowledgment. It wasn't time to run; it was time to walk, just like her knees, her insides were a bit wounded too. She needed to clean her knees and discard the burdens weighing her down.
When she turned to go the other way, a tiny whimper of pain escaped her lips. Murat grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
Tolga, with his unbearable surliness, threw his words at Ayça. "I said we're going to study, and she's running away."
Ayça returned to her battle of nerves with a smirk towards Tolga. Her anger wasn't clearly visible on her smiling face, but her words revealed it.
"Go to hell, Tolga. I won't move an inch for your damn principles and your blinded ambition."
Tolga was ignited by an unexpected fury. Raising his voice, the waves of anger in his eyes crashed against Ayça.
"You're not one to tell me this. You're nothing but a useless Apocalypse Pony. Don't forget who you are; you're no better than a clown!"
His brash and reckless behavior made Murat give up. Although he wasn't usually the kind to openly insult people and spread his arrogance, Murat found it hard to believe how much he had changed.
Tolga had given up on everything, even himself, to be number one...
Murat took Ayça aside to protect her. "Wow! Get a grip, number one! At least she's not characterless like you."
Tolga didn't care about what Murat said. To him, Murat was just puffing himself up next to the girl. But that didn't stop him from sharing a bit of his own rage. Without sparing any contemptuous looks, he spoke.
"Take one and hit the other. A person who has never achieved anything in his life disapproves of me. Characterless, you say?"
As Murat stepped towards him, Ayça stopped him. She didn't want a fight now, not now.
"I know why you did it, Tolga, and that doesn't make your words any lighter. You said it yourself. Even if the world turns into a battleground, I will still be the one to smile in the end. You better face me considering that."
Tolga thought her confidence was ridiculous. Ayça was lazy and hadn't accomplished anything; her speaking from such a high pedestal was a joke to everyone. To everyone but him... How many people laughed behind Ayça's back, discussing her
incompetence and inadequacy? Yet, Ayça always acted as if she was something special, roaming around with that phrase she couldn't live up to. Tolga acted mercilessly in throwing this reality in her face.
"You just think you're like that. In reality, people laugh at you. You're just a leech, clear to fail even with a handicap. You think you're smart, but you're just a fool."
As Ayça digested his words, looking into his eyes filled with anger and disdain, she realized something. Everyone acted as if they knew everything and left nothing for Ayça. As if she knew nothing because her grades were low, and she had nothing to show for herself, saying, "Look, I can do this well, I succeeded in this."
People only look at victory, not those on their way there, inside it. Yet, she was still among them, on her way to victory.
Everyone wants proof to believe in success, but once you have proof, you don't need anyone.
Ayça had no proof, because she didn't need it. Her belief was enough. She had faith to overcome everything others saw as inadequate. Her belief in herself...
With this belief and certainty, Ayça replied to Tolga. "Okay, Tolga. Let's do this." Not understanding her vaguely challenging tone, Tolga asked, "Do what?"
"Let's see who laughs."
Tolga laughed even before anything started. "Do you really think you're worth my time?"
Murat, as an outsider, saw the difference between them clearly. He was close to being Tolga. He could have been like Tolga and was terrified of becoming such a repulsive, self-absorbed person. It reminded him of someone.
Pulling Ayça completely behind him, his action broke their intense gaze. Holding Tolga's gaze while speaking to the girl behind him, Murat asked,
"Ayça? When you first arrived, what did you think I would be like?"
Confused by the relevance of his question, Ayça answered without thinking. "The principal's problematic son."
As soon as she finished, Murat clenched his fist and did something no one expected of him. He punched Tolga in the cheek.
"Now I am."
Tolga staggered from the blow. He was so shocked he couldn't even feel the pain on his face. He didn't wonder why Murat did it. No reason could justify such an action.
He was the principal's son, expected to be a role model student, and now he had punched the top student. Tolga wasn't supposed to be on the receiving end of a punch.
Ever since he met Ayça, it was the second time someone punched someone because of her. He couldn't be the subject of such pointless violence and brawls. He was the top student, destined to be a great man respected by everyone. No one had the right to hit him.
"How dare you hit me, Murat? Knowing I'll make you pay for this."
Murat seemed relieved by his act, spreading his arms to show he was defenseless and surrendered.
"You can hit me back. Or do you want to tell on me to my dad?"
Tolga couldn't grasp his intention. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth considering. Pitying him, Tolga warned,
"Do you really think Apocalypse Pony is worth all this, Murat? All Ayça wants is to mess up our lives."
"At least we'd know we have lives, old friend. I'm letting her do it, because we can't stop it anymore."
Tolga's expression changed when Ayça realized the issue between them was much more than just about her. Murat's unveiled complaint showed he was unhappy with their life's direction. But Tolga wasn't unhappy; on the contrary, he had no doubts.
"I don't want to say it, old friend."
...
It was quite late; she couldn't delay going home any longer. She gathered herself and regained her courage. People decide to act, and they must follow through to see what happens in the end.
She was sure she lived in a world where thinking too much brought nothing. What was needed was good thinking. Thinking of the best plan available was good thinking.
As she entered through the garden gate, she noticed the lights in the living room were on. She didn't think her father would stay; Naime Sultan must have kicked him out by now. Approaching the house's door, she knew she didn't have her keys. She didn't want to ring the bell and gather everyone. But when she saw the dried-up pot standing to the right of the door, she laughed. Who wouldn't throw away such an ugly, withered plant right in front of their door?
Of course, those who hide their key underneath. Her mother had a tactic like this. She bent down to lift the pot and, seeing the key underneath, gratefully took it.
Her mother believed that if you don't value something yourself, others won't value it either.
She silently inserted the key into the lock and turned it slowly, acting like a thief. Entering the hallway and taking off her shoes, the light from the timer turned on.
The old woman, fighting sleep on the couch, jolted upright and leaned forward towards the entrance.
"Apocalypse Pony?"
Ayça realized running away was no longer an option. A tedious and confining conversation awaited her. At least she made a fun entrance and joked as she walked into the living room.
"No, I'm not the Grim Reaper. The Grim Reaper got held up and told Naime to keep playing."
Naime Sultan was surprised by her granddaughter, who never lost her mischief and sense of humor despite everything. Straightening up and shaking off her sleepiness, she muttered,
"Does a person never change! I thought you'd be sad after what happened with your father today, or, I don't know, you'd be silent."
Ayça walked into the living room and slumped into a chair. Then she turned her tired head towards her grandmother. Actually, what people had a hard time understanding was their refusal to accept her as she is. Ayça was like this...
"You know what I don't get? I'm like this, even if I'm upset. I make myself happy. I won't change just so others will love me because no one can love me as much as I love myself."
Naime Sultan was internally glad her granddaughter had such strong resolve but didn't show it, instead rubbing and pressing her aching knees.
"Good, at least I don't need to comfort you," she said when her granddaughter gave her a puzzled look.
"Comfort me? With what words..." Ayça was genuinely curious. Since they always took jabs at each other, she wondered what soft words could possibly come out of her mouth.
Naime Sultan thought for a while, indeed having waited to comfort her, to lessen her sorrow on this matter. But she hadn't prepared anything in her mind. Her unprepared expression revealed everything.
"I was going to say whatever came to my mind."
Ayça laughed at her state. It was a good intention, just unnecessary for Ayça. She could handle herself, even alleviate the troubles within her.
"Shall I comfort you?" she asked, leaning back into an even more relaxed position. Her grandmother, curious about what she might say, eagerly asked,
"With what words?"
Ayça didn't even
hesitate to respond. "My mom was a woman who knew how to love. She had a heart full of love. She loved people simply for being human. But you know what?"
Naime was irritated by the memory of her daughter, "She was a fool." To her, maybe if her daughter hadn't loved so much and followed a man so blindly, she wouldn't have disappeared so easily.
Ayça, who wouldn't let anyone speak ill of her mom, laughed at this and shook her head lightly without disturbing her relaxed posture. "Yes, she did it without expecting anything in return. My mom was doing the best job in the world, loving, but she didn't guard the worth of her love."
Naime Sultan realized from her speeches. The issue she couldn't explain to her daughter and couldn't teach was known by her granddaughter. At least she was glad she had raised her granddaughter well.
"I'm glad you realized that," she said, Ayça wasn't like her mother. She wouldn't lose herself for love.
As Ayça thought about her mother, she made a vow with a surge of uncontrollable rage.
"I will guard the right she couldn't get for as long as I live. I'm her daughter."
Naime Sultan now approached the situation with even more joy. Proudly, she complimented,
"Well done. I thought you were just a troublesome child with your head in the clouds. Turns out you're not."
Ayça was tired of being underestimated. Turning her head, she admitted what they thought was just a perception they had formed.
"I wanted you to think that." Her seriousness confused her grandmother. "Why? Why would you want me to think that?"
She took a deep breath, wanting to gather herself but her tired muscles remained lax. She turned slightly towards her grandmother and smiled.
"Because then you would definitely take me from my dad. You're Naime Sultan; if you set your mind to it, you'd do it."
The old woman pondered over what was said. Would she do it? A voice inside her said yes, without hesitation. She remembered how she had given up on her granddaughter. She had said she was just like her mother, thinking one day she'd follow a man just like her daughter did. She had given up on her granddaughter for thinking that way.
Now Ayça's reasoning made sense. Her intelligence impressed her. Curious about something, she asked without hesitation.
"Aren't you regretful, having grown up with your father? It could have been better living with me."
Ayça clicked her tongue, not even considering it. The idea of a second life, a different path, didn't concern her at all.
"He's my dad. Nothing could be as good as his presence. If I had caused a tenth of the trouble with you that I did with him, you would have gotten rid of me."
Her grandmother laughed and didn't miss the chance to take a jab.
"It's not like he kept a close eye on you."
Knowing she was right made Ayça smile. But she didn't retort. She expressed her love and gratitude towards her father.
"My dad never gave up... No matter how many times we argued and I got angry at him, I knew one thing. Time would pass, and we'd find our old arguments trivial and laugh about them together. Nothing in the world gives the security that a father's presence does."
Naime felt like she was meeting someone new tonight. She hadn't known Ayça could be like this. Could her father have raised her this way?
"Did you figure this out yourself, or did your father raise you to think this way?"
No one needed to tell or teach this. These were life lessons; you just had to think a bit, and you'd receive your grade from your own destiny.
"When I was home, I never woke up at night, but here, even a strong wind against my window wakes me up. Sometimes fathers are their daughters' deep sleep. Understanding this, even such small things are enough; there's no need for a father to teach it."
For Naime Sultan, the era of underestimating, looking down on, and thinking of her granddaughter as insignificant had ended.
"You know what my years of experience tell me?"
Ayça didn't hold back, speaking before even listening. " 'It's time for me to pass on.' right?"
Her grandmother ignored the death joke and imparted her wisdom.
"Strong bonds face great trials." She was referring to the father-daughter bond.
But for Ayça, there was no real battle. "This isn't a big test. My dad will change his mind; he won't get married." Curious about where this might lead, the old woman asked about the other possibility.
"What if he decides to get married?"
Ayça smirked, trusting in the genie bottles she had filled from the witch's cauldron.
"Then he still won't be able to."
...
With the freshness and faith of a new day, she felt good about herself. Ayça sat on the curb just in front of the school walls. She rolled down the socks covering her knees to look at the band-aids she had stuck over her wounds. One was so tight it hurt when she walked. She adjusted it and pulled her socks back up.
As she started walking, Mustafa, who couldn't wait at their usual meeting spot, intercepted her.
"Ayça, did you hear?"
His excitement and breathlessness didn't bode well. Ayça continued walking slowly, grumbling,
"Mustafa, if you're here to tell me, it's definitely something bad. You roam with paragraphs from hell."
Mustafa lost his urgency and defended himself, "So it's my fault, huh?"
Ayça pulled the boy to walk with her while dismissing the lecture.
"Well, yes. It's not like I'm going to tell Principal Akif..."
Mustafa returned to the news he had to deliver. "I think you should tell him." Eager to hear it, Ayça volunteered. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
"Why? Release the devil, Mustafa. Bad news travels fast."
Mustafa blurted it out, facing the harsh reality. "There's going to be a test."
Ayça scoffed, not understanding the importance. "So what? They always have tests."
Mustafa was tired of explaining everything. He stopped walking, grabbed his friend to wake her from her daze, and looked into her eyes with furrowed brows.
"To separate the classes, idiot. They're going to rearrange with a new grading order."
Ayça was confused; wasn't that the current system? "But isn't it like that already? Our class is the top group in the rankings."
Mustafa couldn't take it anymore, letting go of her and shrugging as if resigning to fate.
"But you're not, Ayça. You're at the bottom of the ranking."
The stones searching for a place to settle in her mind made Ayça voice her thoughts aloud.
"Are they going to kick me out of class?"
Mustafa pulled back his hands, resigned, "Since you can't make it into the top fifteen..."
Ayça hesitated. Everything eager to change was now taking a reverse course. The wheels of fortune on every straight path in her life had started rolling backward.
It seemed her dad had dumped her here, and now they were trying to dump her from here too. Ayça's brows furrowed
, the genie bottles inside her were falling off the shelves one by one.
Was it that if they couldn't fit someone into a mold, instead of accepting them as they were, they labeled them defective and tried to discard them? Were those who lived with their own dough always to be chased from place to place without belonging anywhere? Who set this rule?
Being a formless shape on the ground was a person's choice. Every person was their own artist and architect. Why were they sticking their noses into this?
Ayça too... As long as she knew her value, she wouldn't allow it. Whether they accepted or denigrated her didn't matter. She knew one thing.
This life was hers, not a simple existence under the yoke of fixed judgments left by others. No one could deem her worthless or treat her as such. She wouldn't allow it. The anger she had held since yesterday turned into vengeance.
"Even if the world turns into a battleground, I will still be the one to smile in the end."
Her voice and facial expression frightened her friend. The vengeful spirit of a sleeping monster had awakened, and the monster was ready to breathe fire.
Now, Apocalypse Pony was ready to spread flames. There was no reason to delay or anyone left to deceive with lies. Turning to her friend, she bore witness to her vow of revenge as she started running towards the school.
"Don't forget what I said, Mustafa. Make a banner, write it on the walls. This is a big sentence, and I will crush everyone under it. Even if the world turns into a battleground, I will still be the one to smile in the end."