To Get There

Chapter 11

Warning 🔞: mature scenes.

Serkan's POV

And I started telling my story from the last night I saw my mother.

It was a summer evening, and the smell of dinner ready on the table came up to my room where I was playing with my toys waiting for my mother to call me to come down.

Every night, her high-pitched voice rang down the stairs but to me it was a melody I loved to hear: my mom's voice was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

I had just learned to read the clock and I followed the time passing anxiously to reach the exact number.

I knew my mother's punctuality by heart, but that night no voice called my name loudly.

I waited a few minutes, unable to move from my routine which was my habit, where I felt safe.

And suddenly I heard a door slam: I looked out my window, feeling the wheels of a suitcase crawling on the driveway leading to the gate of our house.

I moved the curtains out of my window and saw that my mother was leaving our house with a suitcase, headed who knew where.

Her gaze lifted towards my room and I stood still staring at her, with her long strawberry blonde hair gathered and a light jacket on to protect her from the evening breeze.

I was just a child.

I didn't understand what was going on and where my mother was going.

I lifted my little hand to greet my mother because I was taught to greet those who leave.

But she looked away, interrupting the encounter between our eyes.

"Anne..."

My feeble voice reached only the glass of my window as a roar of a car took my mother away forever.

I ran down the stairs, heading towards the door that had previously slammed, remaining behind my mother.

I smelled dinner coming from the kitchen and looked out at the table full of things to eat, with some of my favorite dishes.

I was just a child.

I sat in my place, next to my father's place and in front of my mother's, and waited for them to come home.

I waited a long time, noticing how the hands were flowing on my new watch around my wrist.

Ten o'clock in the evening arrived and no one was with me inside the house: the food was now cold but the smell of my mother's good cooking was still alive in the air.

I took a piece of bread and ate it, feeling guilty for eating without waiting for mom and dad at the table.

It was late and I had to be in bed already so I got up without having eaten practically anything and started walking back to my room, when I heard the entrance door slamming again.

My father entered the house and looked around, noticing me at the foot of the stairs and the table still perfectly laid.

It was only then that I noticed that the table was set for two: for me and for my father.

It was just me and him.

I let myself go through the story of my life with Eda, telling her about the day of my graduation, the meeting with Alp and the difficult relationship with my father.

Over the years, my father put enormous pressure on me, burdening me with responsibilities and problems that only increased my disgust with others.

The reason? If who was supposed to love you was the first to turn away from you, how could I trust others?