Nazım

Hatırlıyor Musun?// do you remember?

Dedicated to radirulz because one, you and your writing are both awesome [ma sha Allah], and two, your awesomeness is just inspiring, ma sha Allah (=

H A T I R L I Y O R
M U S U N?
{do you remember?}

The night was cold against his skin as he drove-- even if the windows were closed, he could still feel a draft coming in. His red long sleeve shirt wouldn't have done anything except lessen the intensity. But that didn't matter, because of someone else. Someone he was traveling down narrow, bumpy roads for, that if he took a turn too early, it meant crashing into the side of a building.

He didn't plan for the drive to be as short as it was. Perhaps it was the fact there was not as many people on the roads that he was able to drive so fast. Nazım tried to ignore the pounding in his ears as he went. Arabah wasn't far from İstanbul, therefore the house must have been close.

He was nearing the more familiar roads, retracing his steps. After passing a few more corners, he found the little red house on the corner of the street. 

The lights were off in the windows, and it was dark all around. Nazım stopped at the door and parked the truck there. He hoped this would have been the quick check he expected. Before opening the door, he mentally prepared himself just in case for what would ensue.

Nazım got out and shut the door. He went up the two steps to enter the house but didn't ring the doorbell, because the entrance itself was unlocked. He opened it with a small push and immediately wrinkled his nose at the repulsive stench that hit him.

He felt like turning on the hallway light, but didn't and walked all the way in and let the door slam behind him, engulfing him in darkness with only shafts of the moon's light outside to lighten things up-- but just barely. There was suspicion taking him over as he took slow, steady steps. Not a thing to be heard anywhere.

Where was his father?

He turned his head to the living room, where a tall figure was sprawled out on the couch and it seemed to be the source of the smell. 

Nazım stepped in, closer thinking his father was asleep until heard his voice state the question, "where were you."

Nazım stepped back. His father sat up and watched him with dull hazel eyes. Eyes Nazım was grateful he didn't have.

"Where were you?" he barked. Nazım bit back an angry answer, knowing if he snapped at his father it would have added to his list of mistakes.

But his temper got the better of him, as it usually did and he replied with, "I doubt it even matters to you."

Then he stood up, daunting compared to Nazım and shoved past the coffee table to stand in front of him. Closer. Formidable. 

"You." His voice was full of spite, and Nazım could tell just from the one word. "You led them away, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he said proudly, staring straight into his father's bloodshot eyes. He felt daring. He knew he was wrong to just speak with spite like that, but at that moment he didn't care. Only the spitefulness he had towards him had control over him. "Away from you so they can be safe."

They stood like that for several moments, and Nazım was finding it hard to keep his stare focused on his father, and he did not want him thinking he was scared of him. He refused. Every time his father's gaze moved ever so slightly in any direction, he would follow it.

"Are you teaching them to run away from their own father?"

Nazım scoffed. "You're not a real father. You're just a lazy drunk."