GOLDEN RULE

The Golden Rule

I woke up with hands covering my mouth. When I realized I couldn't breathe, I abruptly opened my eyes, shocked by the person, or rather, the weight on top of me. Yağız... I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at his face and then at his hand. To signal that I understood, I closed and opened my eyes. He slowly withdrew his hand from my mouth as I sat up. I reached for my phone to check the time.

3:45 AM.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" I whispered. I kept glancing at the door, wary of someone coming.

"I told you to be here at 4," he said assertively.

"It's only 3:40."

"3:45, or maybe 3:50."

I checked the time.

"3:48," I said.

"Can you make it there in 10 minutes? Are you planning to fly or something?" he said with a condescending look.

I rolled my eyes and got out of bed. Ela was still asleep.

"I'll change and come, you go ahead," I said.

He nodded and left through the window. How did he even enter through the window? Well, the windows were old anyway, so I didn't care. I glanced at my clothes; they were all black. Why did he give me all black ones? Did he think he could darken me with black? If so, it was amusing. Little did he know that black empowered me. Little did he know that the moment I stepped into this house, I had already eliminated all colors and merged with black. I had embraced darkness...

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a tracksuit and a t-shirt and got dressed. I covered Ela and tidied up the table, making sure not to leave any evidence. Then I took my phone and left.

I ran to Yağız's house. When I heard noises from the backyard, I headed in that direction.

"Do you train morning and evening all the time?!"

"I told you to be here at 4!" his voice came out harsh and angry. He stopped punching the punching bag and turned to face me, furrowing his brows.

"Golden Rule: Be punctual, always calculate the time it takes to get to your destination, and be there on time. Calculate what you need to do and do it," he said.

I nodded my head.

"Okay," I said. "It won't happen again, I apologize."

"I told you not to apologize, not to make a move that requires an apology. Don't you listen to me?" he scolded.

"You're right, it won't happen again," I said, lowering my head.

He grabbed my chin and lifted my head.

"Golden Rule: Never bow your head, keep it held high. Stand tall against everyone and everything," he said, taking a breath and looking into my eyes. "Let's start running." That meant I could run as long as I could until I said stop. I ran without stopping.

I was exhausted from running for a long time, but I kept going. Finally, when I felt a weight on my back, I found myself on the ground. He had tripped me and brought me down by holding onto my waist.

He locked my hands on both sides of my head, hovering over me.

"What are you doing?!" I said, furrowing my brows.

"Get up!"

"How can I get up with you on top of me?"

"Get up! Find a way to get up. If you stay like this for too long, consider yourself dead."

With all my strength, I tried to free my hands from his grip, but I couldn't even move them. Furrowing my brows, I looked at his face.

"What?" he said. "Is that all you've got?"

I maintained my seriousness. He shook his head from side to side. I kicked him from behind out of anger. As he staggered, I pushed him off and stood up. He didn't expect that, and he looked at me in surprise.

"Well done, one more 'well done.' It's good that you got up. If you had tried to attack me like I did, I would have easily taken you down, and this time, knowing that you would kick, I would have taken precautions, and you wouldn't have escaped," he said, giving more tactics, explanations, and demonstrating techniques.

Then we moved to the front of the punching bag. He taught me different ways to punch, how to strike, how to stand, and explained the rules. He gave me many tactics.

"Golden Rule: Know your opponent well, observe..." he said. "One more Golden Rule: Show right, hit left. That's why you need to develop your left arm."

I nodded my head.

"I understand." I tried to do everything he taught me on the punching bag.

"You need to hit harder," he said, so I did.

I hit.

I hit...

"Stop," he said, and I did. "Well done," he said, looking at my hair. "You didn't cut it."

"I couldn't do it myself."

"Shall we go inside?" When he came back with scissors, I was sitting on one of the couches. He was going to cut my hair... my life...

As his hands approached my hair, he gently combed it and dampened it. Neither of us spoke because we knew it was painful for me.

And then came the sound of the scissors...

"It's done," he said, putting my hair in a bag.

"Can I have them?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I want to bury them."

"Bury them?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, it's a belief. If you bury the cut hair in the ground, it's said to grow back faster."

"Golden Rule: Don't believe in anything without seeing it with your own eyes or hearing it with your own ears," he said.

I nodded and took the bag, heading to the backyard. I went a little further and used my hands to dig the soil beneath a tree. Once I decided the hole was deep enough, I placed my dark brown hair from the bag into the hole. After covering it, I went back inside.

"Did you take care of it?" Yağız asked.

"Yes," I replied, showing him my hands.

"First door on the right, the bathroom."

I nodded and went to the designated place.

After thoroughly washing my hands, I also washed my face. I lifted my head and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It was evident, I had changed. I didn't need to look in the mirror to see that; my life was already displaying it.

I dried my hands and face and left the bathroom.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, and I nodded my head eagerly.

"Very..."