MY CELL

Darkness is not just hidden in the bosom of the night. In the night sky, some see the twinkling stars and the moon as the night light of the sky, others only the darkness. For some, the light of day is always dark. Day and night are twin brothers for those whose sun does not rise and who do not hear the sound of nature.

For Leyla, whose day and night sky are the same, life ended the moment it started. Sometimes we are delayed in living our choices because of what we cannot choose. Leyla was after to recapture her life, which he thought was delayed. She was embarking on a journey from his future to her past.

She was walking into a locked room as she dimly illuminated the dark hallway of the house. The volume of the lamp was less than it could reflect. A graceful female shadow glided through the walls, dimly illuminating the hallway. He was on his way to what would happen next. The corridor behind Layla's graceful body was dark again as the light illuminated the locked door. The darkness remained behind him like his past, but the light of the room he would soon enter to face the darkness of his past would fluctuate like a flickering flame in the wind.

She touched the door handle with her graceful, slender fingers. She paused as her low, heavy breathing echoed down the hallway. She held his breath. "Now is the time," she said, and opened the door. A darker darkness crept out through the gap in the door. She left the lamp in her hand, illuminating only her face, on the cold, dull stone floor by the door. The weak light of the lamp created two more shadows on the wall, this time apart from Leyla.

In the shadows falling on the wall were the bodies of a crucified man and a woman. The woman's hair stretched like a river over her head leaning towards the stone floor, expressing the tiredness of her body. The male shadow's head was bent to the right of his neck, indicating that he had passed out. The sound of Leyla pushing the door shut broke the eerie silence.

Leyla's shadow stood behind the table between the two shadows hanging on the wall. She poured two glasses of water from the pitcher on the table. The shadow bodies were startled and moved by the sound of the water, but they were resisting, understandably unable to move. Leyla's thin smile echoed in the room. She took the bread lying on the table, broke it in half, and handed one to the woman's and the other to the man's free hands.

As she stepped back, the length of his shadow on the wall changed. The shadows hanging on the wall stood motionless as they held the bread in their trembling hands. "I don't want you to die right away. Eat it," She said. The shadows did not move. "Eat it!" When she said this, the two shadows moved with their hands shaking. The shadow woman spoke with a broken accent. "Leyla why are you doing this?" Leyla said," Take your time, you will understand why you are here."

It was time to throw away thirty years of her dirty savings. She picked up the fallen bread and returned it to the shadow woman's hand. She said, "You're used to dirt. Come on! Eat this!" Having said that, he picked up the lamp by the door and left the room, ignoring the struggle of the two shadows and their begging for their rescue. Locking the door with the big rusty key he took out of his pocket, he turned to face the corridor. As he brought the lamp close to his face, the emotions under his expression were reflected in his eyes, paragraph by paragraph. She pursed her thick lips and blew into the flame of the lamp. Walking in the dark made his eyes even sharper. Leyla's eyes have been blind to the beautiful, happy and joyful aspects of life since the day she was born. The bad memories he had had forced him to torture his captives in the cell.

When he entered the hall, the strong and dirty posture of a few minutes earlier disappeared. She became sluggish. Leyla, who always tried to look strong in order not to show the traces of her pain and past burdens and to hide her flaws, only turned into the real Leyla when she was alone at home. Angry, sad, hurt...

In addition to the dirty heroes of the past she had imprisoned in her cell room, there were also broken memories of the tiny fresh Leyla she left behind. While sipping the pitch-black coffee she always drank, she recalled the memories of a year earlier that had brought her to this cellar home.

Traces of successful Leyla's contradictory life, which she described as her desperation, had brought Leyla to the brink of the abyss of revenge a year ago...