BLACK ROSE (COMPLETED)

25 -

Monday morning...

The first lesson of the day had just begun, yet I stood frozen just outside the classroom door, drowning in my thoughts. What fate had befallen me this time? How could I possibly step into class like this?

It had happened again. Just like the roses in the depths of Derin's villa and the dress she wore; my clothes had once again, without warning, transformed into a deep, inky black. Normally, I wouldn't be so distressed by such an occurrence, but this time it was my school uniform that had undergone this sudden metamorphosis. The school dress code required girls to wear gray skirts and pink blouses. Black was utterly forbidden.

As if that wasn't enough, my current class was math, taught by none other than Ms. Fulya—the most fastidious and discipline-obsessed teacher in the school. I only hoped she wouldn't be too harsh. Despite her diminutive stature, she was a figure we all feared.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and entered the classroom. I walked a few steps toward the teacher before stopping in my tracks, bracing myself for her reaction.

The moment she noticed my inappropriate attire, Ms. Fulya furrowed her brows and tilted her head slightly to one side. Her piercing gaze, magnified by thick glasses, swept over me. "Ece?" she barked in that stern tone of hers. "What are you wearing, girl?"

Just as I was about to stammer out an explanation, Derin chimed in, her voice nonchalant, "Spiders are black, teacher. Ece's just embracing her natural color." She shrugged with casual indifference.

I exhaled sharply, blowing the strands of hair from my face. Ah, Derin, always there to add her own little jabs at the worst moments.

There was a time when I believed that Esma, my aunt who blasted loud music and twerked in front of me while I prayed in peaceful reverence, might one day embrace modesty. But never did I dare hope that Derin would stop teasing me for even a single morning. Fine, let my aunt sculpt her figure however she wished, but at least she could keep her antics from interfering with my prayers. I would have gladly accepted her doing Pilates instead—it would have been far less distracting.

I tried to offer my explanation to the teacher. "Um... it wasn't intentional, teacher. Lately, for some reason, everything I wear turns pitch black. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think it might be indirectly related to my special ability. I'll learn to control it as soon as I can."

Ms. Fulya rose from her chair at the podium, placing her hands on her hips. "I understand, my dear, but I can't let you stay in class dressed like this."

Just then, I saw Sinem rise from her seat. "Teacher," she began, "I have an objection, if you'll allow me. Isn't this a class for students with special abilities?"

My eyes widened, and a shiver ran down my spine.

But it wasn't because Sinem was standing up for me.

She hadn't stuttered...

Not a single stutter!

"Yes, it is, my dear," Ms. Fulya responded. "This is the class for special students."

Sinem, now speaking with the fluidity of a seasoned orator, continued, "If that's the case, shouldn't you be supporting these special students as they discover their abilities, develop their powers, and overcome the challenges they face? If we are special students in a special class, isn't it more fitting that we be treated with special rules rather than the standard ones? Clearly, Ece is struggling with her powers unintentionally. We expect you to help and support her in resolving this, not close the door in her face."

My eyes welled up with tears. I fought hard to keep them from falling. Sinem was singing like a nightingale! And she was singing for me. I wanted to shout, 'Keep going, girl, talk until the evening if you must!' But that would've only disrupted the class more. So, I kept quiet.