2004, 14 November. We are celebrating my 7th birthday. It was as much a party as we could afford. I am waiting for all the guests to cut my not very tasty cake that I made with my mother. At that time, my best friend said that his father would be coming soon. We waited for my friend’s father to cut the cake, but his father did not come. My friend said his father would be late so we could cut the cake. After placing candles as big as my age on the cake, I got ready to blow out and closed my eyes to make a wish. Good thing I closed my eyes because at that moment a piece of glass flew into my eyelid. When I heard people’s high-pitched cries and opened my eyes, I could understand what was going on. My friend’s father made a very unpleasant entrance to my party. The man was looking at my friend with red eyes like anger or something. was drunk and angry. Nobody expected something like this. As soon as she entered the party, she started shouting and threw whatever she could. The piece of broken glass on my cake caught my eye and it didn’t matter. My friend was very scared and started to cry silently. We all knew that my friend’s father was a troubled person, but no one expected this much. The efforts of those who tried to stop the man who started dragging my friend’s hair as soon as he held it were insufficient. the helpless looks that people left behind my friend did not help my friend. While looking at my friend’s condition, I restrained myself not to cry. I couldn’t sleep that night. I felt very sorry for my friend and prayed for him.
The year is 2010, 27 January, I am 13 years old. My sister and I go to dance class as we do every week. We have a very big rehearsal in about a month and so we have a very busy schedule. My sister has a great love of dance since she was little. My sister has been dancing as long as I can remember myself. One day, after the rehearsal, our teacher invited my sister to talk to him. my sister said that she has very special talents and that she can reach very good places with special studies. and then they started working with my sister privately. At first, my sister was very happy and she was going to training every day more and more excited. But one day my sister came home very unhappy and tearful. She didn’t tell my parents anything, but she shared it with me. While we were in training, our teacher told my sister to wear clothes that are much more revealing than she should normally wear, and she would rehearse with these today. my sister got excited about the new costumes and didn’t care how revealing the outfit was. When the rehearsal started, our teacher was closer to my sister than usual. Although this did not attract my sister’s attention at first, my sister became uncomfortable and began to walk away. On the contrary, our teacher started to behave much closer to my sister. He was stroking my sister’s legs while showing the movements, and gripping her waist tightly while correcting the mistakes. When my sister tried to get away, our teacher got angry and started shouting at my sister. He said that if he couldn’t correct my sister’s mistakes, she would never be a good dancer, and he started hurling insults. When the anger of rejection increased, he tried to be violent to my sister, and my sister ran away from the studio and ran home crying. When my sister told me this, I kept myself from crying. What my sister went through was very scary and sad. I couldn’t sleep that night and prayed for my sister.
The year is 2014, April 2, I am 17 years old. my father was in London for his job(!) and so we were having dinner alone with my mother like every evening and I had a university exam on my mind. I had a very stressful year and there was very little time left for the exam and I couldn’t sit still. While I was in these thoughts, my mother looked unhappy. When I asked why, he said he wanted to tell me something. I told him you could tell him. He was clearing his throat to explain when the doorbell suddenly started ringing. but it was not a normal sound. My mom told me to get under the table and wait as if I knew who was coming. I didn’t understand what was going on, but it was clear that something bad was going on. I got scared and immediately went under the table. I understood the seriousness of the situation when I heard the sound of the door breaking before my mother opened the door. I immediately got up from under the table and went to my mother. When I went to the door, there was a group of 6-7 people with guns and sticks in front of me. This shouldn’t have been these guys’ first visit, my mom had a gun. My mother knew who these men were. I took a step towards my mother and a man with a gun pointed his gun at me and said, “Don’t… don’t budge an inch!” I was so scared and started crying. When my mom said, “He’s not at home, we don’t know what the hell is going on. He left us 3 months ago,” and I realized that these men were coming for my father. When one of the men pointed a gun at my head, my poor mother didn’t know what to do and started to cry. He swore my father wasn’t here, begging them to let me go. I was so scared. When the men could not find what they wanted after searching the house, they came to us with blank looks. At that time, my mother tried to pick up the gun of the man who was pointing a gun at me, but one of them was faster than my mother and without hesitation he fired a bullet at my mother. I started screaming and shouting. The bandit group sped away, leaving me alone with my mother’s injured body. Everything happened so fast and I was just crying. After the incident, the interventions for my mother were insufficient and we lost my mother that night. I lost my most precious. I lost my favorite. I couldn’t sleep that week. A week later, after all the procedures were over, we were at my mother’s funeral. At that moment, I was sad that this lively, energetic and always happy woman was turned to dust by this unscrupulous life. And I restrained myself not to cry. I kissed my mother’s earthen body for the last time and prayed for her.
The year is 2019, August 5th, I stopped counting my age… the things I’ve been through since I was little were getting heavy now and I was holding back to not cry all the time. Time was coming on me and the events that I didn’t tell people, the tears I held for years and the prayers that I said for everyone accumulated and exploded inside me. After my first appointment with the therapist, I learned that the people who experienced these events were actually me. I could not accept that I was the person who experienced all these things, and for years I had told them as if they had been experienced by others. The man who walked into the party drunk in 2004 was my father, not my friend’s. In 2010, our dance class teacher raped me, not my sister. and 2014… that day, the bullet really hit my mother, but the person who died that day was the poor girl who couldn’t cry at the top of the ground, not under the ground.
So, hello again. I don’t know what year, I don’t know what month, I don’t know how old I am. I’m a teenage girl with cluster B personality disorder and overthinking disorder. I didn’t mention yesterday, you know. I did not accept what I went through, you do. That night, I restrained myself not to cry, but you do not. I don’t know myself, as well as you. I stopped counting my age, but you are counting every age with excitement. Maybe I don’t remember yesterday anymore, but you, you should get excited for tomorrow.