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The Line Between Dream and Reality

Sometimes in life, not everything may be what we want. Isn’t life made up of crooked lines up and down? Isn’t the real straight line a sign of death? That’s why we shouldn’t question too much the obstacles life throws at us. But what if these boundaries are not between life and death, but between dream and reality?

My name is Efsun, I am 17 years old. Even though life showed me 17 years, these 17 years gave me a lot of experience at an early age due to the obstacles I faced. Today, I would like to tell you about an experience I had and could not get over. I was in middle school when this happened. That’s why the thought of whether what I experienced was a dream put forward by my brain or reality remained an unanswered question mark in my mind for years.

As far as I can piece together the distorted memories left in my head, I don’t remember anything unusual that day. It was one of those ordinary days when we stayed in the library with our friends and studied for LGS. “Oh, how difficult these verbals are.” Buğra was whining again. This attitude of his managed to make us laugh even though the exam was less than a month away. “I gave you the coding of all three. But how do you still manage to mix adjectives and adverbs?” Ece asked in distress. Even their situation was enough to make us smile. At that moment, Pelin ran through the door and stood next to our table. Waving her arm, she said, “My grandmother finally gave it to me!” he said cheerfully while showing the family heirloom gold bracelet on his arm. If my memory isn’t playing tricks on me this time, he had been working hard to get this for 2 years and finally my dear friend was rewarded for his efforts.

After we all congratulated him, we went back to our work. Soon, I got up from the table and started to find a proverb idiom booklet for our essay, which was our homework today, among the shelves. After wandering around the shelves for a while, my eyes opened wide when Pelin came running to me. “Where’s my bracelet?” I shuddered when he suddenly raised his voice. Others came from behind and surrounded us. “What are you saying, Pelin?” I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. “You left us the earliest, liar, don’t ignore me!” he shouted. I could witness that even the people I called my brothers who surrounded us were whispering to each other about this issue and giving me sarcastic looks. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, Ece’s low voice filled my ears: “Pelin.” he said, taking the curious looks around from me and drawing them to herself. Like the others, Pelin also turned there. ‘Pelin, can you look quietly and slowly at the ground? Am I mistaken, or is there a golden bracelet right under my foot?’ said Ece in a sheepish voice. At that moment, I could see that Pelin’s face was as red as the others. That was the last thing I remember.

To summarize, I remember that day I was branded a thief by the people I innocently called my brother, who ate my bread and drank my water. But like I said, I just remember. I hope these are just the lines between fantasy and reality that my brain plays on me.

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