THE VOICE OF NOTHINGNESS

"Come on, dear, breakfast is ready, come." My mother's cheerful voice filled the whole house, and I was greeting another peaceful day. I had so many reasons to be thankful. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. After finishing my business, I noticed that I had carelessly hung the towel and corrected it before slowly making my way downstairs.

"I'm here." When I entered the kitchen, I saw that my mom and dad had already taken their seats at the table, so I put on a fake sad expression. "Oh, did you start without me?" While saying this, I shoved a piece of pastry from the table into my mouth.

"My dear! Sit down and eat! Look, you've spilled the blessings everywhere!" I placed a little kiss on my mom's cheek, who spoke with a mock angry tone, and lovingly pressed my lips against her soft skin.

"I'm not too hungry, mom. I'll eat just a couple of bites and leave." I walked over to my dad, planted a kiss on his cheek, and scrunched my face because his beard tickled me.

"Your mom's right, my grass-eyed one, you can't skip breakfast on an empty stomach." I rolled my eyes at both of them and, reluctantly, sat down at the table. I could be a little late for school.

"So, how's school going? The report card day is coming up, just one more year until graduation." I took a forkful of cheese and turned to my dad.

"It's going well, thank God. Passing the class is child's play for me, you know, dad." It really was true. I was a third-year student at a science high school and would graduate next year. My dad leaned back in his chair proudly.

"I have endless faith in you. After all, whose daughter are you?" My mom let out a sweet laugh. "Of course, she's her mother's daughter." With that, my dad's laughter filled the whole room. "Of course, she's her father's daughter." Listening to their playful banter made me happy. "Aren't you tired of talking about the same things every day? You're both my parents."

They both approached and stroked my cheeks. I loved being loved, I cherished the affection I received from my family.

"Sweetheart, today we're going to visit your father's and grandfather's. Do you want to come?" When I heard the word "grandfather," my eyes lit up.

"Are you serious? What do you mean, 'Do you want to?' I'll fly there! I'm already in a bad mood because we missed the flight last night, and I really miss my grandfather."

I continued my breakfast with great appetite.

"See that? Our girl gets excited when we mention her grandfather."

After breakfast, I went up to my room. My grandfather was one of the most important people in my life. He was a great surgeon, and I wanted to become a successful surgeon like him one day. I often found myself imagining helping patients in hospital operating rooms and meeting their families afterward. Medicine was a very sacred profession to me. I tied my hair neatly and put on my petrol blue shawl with my robe, trying to hurry so as not to make my parents wait too long. I quickly descended the stairs and was about to head to the garage when I remembered the car was on the street since we were supposed to go to the airport last night, so I turned toward the garden gate. And then it happened! A huge explosion followed by the sight of our car engulfed in flames. It felt like life had stopped for me, I couldn't even move. As the flames rose higher, my soul was torn apart. The screams of people running around echoed in the air. I didn't know how much time had passed. The horrifying sound of the ambulance reverberated, followed by the fire brigade and police voices that only deepened my pain. One of the paramedics jumped out of the ambulance and came to me.

"Ma'am, are you alright? Please say something."

What could I say? How could my life go on at this point? I heard Büşra's voice from across the street, and before I realized it, she had wrapped her arms around me tightly.

"My friend! Please, pull yourself together, say something to me, please."

After a while, they put out the fire, and I saw my mom and dad being carried out, their bodies burned. I tried to stand up and walk over to them, but a man stopped me.

"Ma'am, stay here." That was when I regained my voice.

"Let me go, I'm going to my parents." With my voice, my strength came back. I tried to break free from his grip.

"Calm down, we're going to the hospital now. You can come with us if you want. Please, let's go."

Reluctantly, I allowed the man to guide me. While they were placing my parents in the ambulance, the man opened the door of his car for me to get in. Who was this man? What car was I getting into? I didn't think about any of that. I was focused on the ambulance, praying to God for my family's safety. I had trouble seeing the ambulance through my tears, as wiping my eyes only made everything blurrier. As soon as the car stopped, I rushed to the hospital, where my parents had already been taken inside.

While walking through the corridors, I realized that the lights didn't illuminate the surroundings; it felt like my soul had been ripped from my body. I was just walking, not wanting to think about anything bad, only praying for good news about my mom and dad. I couldn't stand anymore and leaned my back against the wall. After a long wait, the doctor came out. His expression didn't look promising, and I rushed forward to speak.

"What happened? How are they? They're okay, right? Please tell me something!"

I didn't like the helplessness on the doctor's face. I feared what I was about to hear. Slowly, he removed his bonnet and folded his hands in front of him.

"Unfortunately, we did everything we could, but we couldn't save them. My condolences."

My head spun, and my stomach churned. I felt the ground beneath me slip away. I must have heard wrong. This kind of thing only happens in movies and TV shows. We watch and feel sad for the person involved, but this couldn't be happening to me. I quickly shook my head in denial and started shaking the doctor by his shoulders.

"NOOOOO! PLEASE SAY IT'S NOT TRUE! SAY THEY DIDN'T DIE! DO SOMETHING, PLEASE! PLEASE."

"Mother! Father!"

I woke up drenched in sweat. I was tired of reliving the same things over and over.

"Calm down, my daughter. I think you had a bad dream. I came to check on you."

In front of me, a middle-aged woman with her head covered was trying to wake me up by shaking me. When I looked around, I wondered what I was doing in this unfamiliar room. Panic suddenly set in, and I pulled back.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The woman pulled her hands from my arms and placed a sweet smile on her face.

"Don't be afraid, my daughter. My name is Zehra. According to my son, you fainted at the mosque, and he brought you here."

Now I remembered. The last thing I remembered was running from an armed man, and then going to the boy who was praying, and right at that moment, I fell asleep due to the effect of the medicine. I didn't remember what happened afterward.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

No matter how much I thanked her, I still felt uneasy. Why had he brought me to his house instead of the hospital? Was it stupid to ask that now? I couldn't decide.

"My daughter, you didn't have a phone with you, so we couldn't inform your family. They must be worried. If you like, you can use my phone to call your parents."

My parents! Just one word—what a painful one.

"I have no one to notify. I lost my family three years ago."

I still couldn't get used to these words, and I couldn't stop my eyes from filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, my daughter, I didn't know. If I upset you, I apologize."

What upset me wasn't hearing these words, but having to endure them. I was breaking into a thousand pieces. My gaps would never be whole.

"It's okay. You couldn't have known. I still get like this because I haven't gotten used to it."

Aunt Zehra placed her hand on my knee and gently stroked it. The kindness in her eyes warmed my heart. When I looked more closely, I noticed her eyes were also filled with tears. Her brown iris sparkled with the wetness.

"I'm sorry for your loss, may Allah grant them paradise. I've prepared breakfast, let's get up and eat. You look weak, you'll feel better."

When it came to food, where I was didn't matter. Since I couldn't tolerate hunger, I thought it would be inappropriate not to accept, even though I didn't want to.

"Please don't trouble yourself, I'll leave."

I wasn't sure where I was going, but I didn't want to trouble them more.

"No trouble at all, my dear. Get up, get up."

Aunt Zehra insisted firmly. As I got up, I thought to myself how tall she was. Despite her age, she seemed quite lively. I nodded my head to avoid her insistent gaze. We got up from the bed and exited through the door. We were greeted by a long hallway. One wall of the hallway was entirely glass. There seemed to be a door leading to the garden. Just as I had guessed, the woman opened the glass door and stepped into the garden. I followed her quietly. When I glanced at the garden, I noticed it had been well tended. Colorful flowers greeted the summer, and short fruit trees gave the garden a special feel. After I finished looking at the garden, I sat down at the table.

"My daughter, forgive my curiosity, but what were you doing at the mosque at that hour? I don't think you're from this neighborhood. This is the first time I've seen you."

I had been expecting this question. Of course, she wasn't going to open all her doors to a stranger in her house.

"I live two streets up. Last night, I heard some strange noises at home. Scared, I went outside, and a man with a gun started approaching me, so I ran as fast as I could. I reached the mosque, and someone was praying. I approached him to ask for help, but the sleeping pills I took kicked in, and well…"

I explained the incident without covering anything up. She kept saying "astaghfirullah" after each word. Her concern strangely warmed me. Perhaps it was because no one had worried about me except Büşra for so long, I thought, agreeing with the voice in my head.

"Oh, my daughter! You live alone, it must have been a thief. Thank God He protected you."

Her voice was filled with sincerity. Could a person be this kind to a stranger? I was filling my plate with olives, cheese, cucumbers, and tomatoes while we continued talking. Hunger was one of my greatest weaknesses; when I ate, I lost control, and in the end, I always found myself holding back.

"It must have been a thief. The problem is, I live alone, and I don't know how to handle such things."

At the end of every incident, my loneliness hit me like a slap in the face.

"Don't you have any relatives, my daughter?"

Relatives? When I thought about it, I had no one left! I had lost so much in those short three years. First my mother and father, then my grandfather, grandmother, and aunt. How had I endured so much pain?

"My mother had a father, but after my parents died, he never contacted me. He said he didn't want to see me because I reminded him of my mother."

Every time I tried to contact my grandfather, I had been kicked out. I had thought he would be the one to protect me, but instead, he had broken my wings. Every time I had a problem, I wanted to turn to him, but he wouldn't even listen to me. If anyone was hurt, it was me. His daughter was my mother, but I could never understand why he had treated me this way.

"I see, my daughter. Eat the menemen, too." Her gestures were so warm, it felt like we had known each other for a long time.

So many things in my life were going wrong, and I didn't need to talk about them and wear myself out more, so I decided to change the subject.

"What a beautiful garden you have. I'm sure you've worked hard on it." As I praised the garden, I didn't feel like I was exaggerating. The flowers had been carefully planted in clusters according to their colors, and no color transition was out of place. The first row welcomed you with elegant white daisies, followed by colorful lilac and blue hydrangeas. The next row of pink bell-shaped flowers completely filled the aesthetic. On the left side, there was a peach tree, two plum trees, and a cherry tree.

"Actually, I don't do much, my son takes care of it. He loves things like this." There was so much pride in her voice when she spoke about her son.

"Hmm. That's nice." I had run out of things to say. What do you talk about with a stranger? While I was thinking, Aunt Zehra spoke again.

"Well, my daughter, tell me. Are you studying? What are you up to?"

Noticing I hadn't eaten much of the menemen, I took a few spoonfuls and let Aunt Zehra refresh my tea.

"Yes, I'm a senior at a science high school. Hopefully, I will graduate this year. I should have graduated by now, but because of certain circumstances, I had to take a break from school. After my parents passed away, I went to my hometown and lived there for a while. After I lost my grandfather, I came back here."

"I understand, my daughter. Your trial is difficult, but may God not burden anyone with more than they can bear. May patience be your greatest companion on this journey."

Patience! My test was the kind that could break even a stone. Through this trial, God had become my greatest support. I would always remind myself of the saying, "God does not burden a soul beyond its capacity." Even the beloved Prophet endured countless trials, so why wouldn't I? I found comfort in this reflection, even though it was hard.

"And you? Would you like to talk about yourself?" She looked at me with her warm smile again.

"What can I say, my daughter? I have a son and me. I lost my husband three years ago. My son works and studies at the same time. We're getting by on our own."

So that boy was like me. We both had lost something. Maybe it was fate that I had met him that evening. As they say, when a servant is in need, a divine helper arrives. God had sent me a helper with shared pain.

"My condolences to you, too."

In the middle of our deep conversation, the doorbell rang. Aunt Zehra went inside to answer it. I looked at the man who had entered. He was almost too tall to fit through the door. Despite his muscular body, he seemed slim. His black hair fell slightly over his eyes, and he had a presence that changed the atmosphere as soon as he entered. When Aunt Zehra turned to me, I quickly looked away.

"This is my son, my daughter." It was him, the man who saved me. Should I get up and thank him? I couldn't stop myself from feeling confused, I was surprised by this sudden shift in my mood. My palms were sweating from excitement. I couldn't understand why this man, whom I had just met, was making me so excited. I looked at him again without showing it. There was something different about him. He made me feel like someone I had known for years, someone I had met after a long time, rather than a complete stranger.

"Aunt Zehra, I should go now." I slowly made my way towards the door, trying not to look at him. Aunt Zehra approached me and lightly held my arm.

"Ah, no way, don't leave just yet." How much longer could I stay? I wanted to solve the disaster that had happened to me as soon as possible.

"No, thank you. After what happened last night, I need to go to the police." Aunt Zehra didn't press any further, knowing I was right.

"Alright then, dear, it's up to you." Just as I was about to go inside, Aunt Zehra stopped me with her words.

"Wait, dear, let me tell Furkan to take you to the police station by car. Don't walk that long distance again."

So his name was Furkan. Hearing it excited me too, and again, I couldn't understand why. I was never the type to like a man I just met, but for some reason, my excitement was growing.

"No need, thank you. I'll take a taxi." I didn't want to burden them, especially since I had no money on me.

"No way, I won't hear of it. Furkan!" She ignored all my objections and called her son.

"Yes, mom?" His voice was so soft that I shivered just hearing it. No one could convince me that he only said two words. What was really bothering me was how this man, whom I didn't know, felt so familiar to me.

"Son, come here." When Furkan came over, our eyes met for a brief moment. It was so short that it could have been missed.

"Son, could you take the girl to the police station? Don't let her deal with taxis again." I felt him look at me again.

"Okay, mom. Let me grab the keys. You can wait outside." Aunt Zehra put on her coat and went outside, and I followed her.

"By the way, dear, I didn't ask your name, what is it?" It was funny that after talking about everything, I hadn't even told her my name.

"Merve." I cleared my throat lightly, feeling the need to.

"Merve! What a beautiful name you have. Mashallah, your name is as beautiful as you." Being complimented by Aunt Zehra stroked my pride. I think I figured out why I wasn't leaving this house. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I had a home, a warm breakfast made like I had a family, it had eased my longing just a little.

"Thank you, ma'am." While we were chatting casually, a tall, beautiful young girl in a black abaya approached us. Her expression was insincere enough to overshadow her beauty.

"Salamun Aleyküm, Aunt Zehra, where are you off to?" She seemed to be trying to figure out who I was, unsure whether to ask.

"Aleyküm Selam, Rümeysa dear. I have something to do, I'm going out to the market. How are your parents? Are they well?" Aunt Zehra seemed to change the subject, probably because she didn't like the questions.

"They're good, thank God. Anyway, I won't keep you. Mom's waiting for me. Take care."

Although I could read curiosity in her eyes, she left without saying anything. I didn't miss the slight jealousy in her behavior. When the door opened, I realized Furkan had arrived. I understood the reason we had been waiting: he had changed clothes. When he entered the house, he was wearing a navy t-shirt and cream pants, but now he was in an all-black tracksuit. When he bent down to tie his white sneakers, I could smell his scent. It wasn't perfume, but a unique woody fragrance.

Just then, a child's voice broke my thoughts.

"Aunt Zehra, come quickly, they've come again, we can't control them!" The little one's face was bright red from running. He quickly took deep breaths and pressed his hand against his chest.

"Oh dear, okay, I'm coming." Aunt Zehra quickly turned to her son, while I was still looking at Furkan, wondering if he was struggling to hold back laughter or if it was just me.

"Son, why don't you go ahead? If you wait for me, we'll never get anywhere. Sorry, dear, I wouldn't leave you alone if it wasn't urgent." I nodded as if to say it was fine, and Furkan chuckled.

"Okay, mom, you go, I'll drop her off." His voice had a unique harmony, different when he was laughing and when he was serious.

"Son, that's rude, don't laugh. Okay, I'm leaving now. You take care, dear, you can come by anytime. Oh, my goodness! Well, I'm going, come on, Mehmet, let's go."

After Aunt Zehra left, Furkan got into the car. I followed and sat down. He started the car. I felt like I should thank him.

"Um… I… actually… thank you, I mean for your help." I looked at his face through the rearview mirror, but he didn't change a single expression.

"It's nothing." Though I sensed a hint of reproach in his voice, I didn't dwell on it since I couldn't understand it. But what was bothering me? Was it that he didn't look at me or that he gave such a simple answer? I was experiencing conflicting emotions. Even though I had only seen him a few hours ago, I was already aware that I was drawn to him. When I looked at him from behind, I noticed a scar on the back of his neck. Every detail about him seemed unique, and I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of the brakes. Realizing we had arrived, I opened the door to get out.

"Thanks again." I said, stepping out.

Just then, a gunshot went off right next to me. I dropped to the ground in fear. Only one shot had been fired. I pulled my hands away from my ears and opened my eyes. Then came the sound of police gunfire. The man vanished as if he had never been there, and just then Furkan got out of the car and came to me.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

This time, the fear in his voice pierced my ears. Every word he said left an impact on me. I nodded, as if to say I was fine, got up, and the police asked us to come inside.

…

When we entered, a police officer came over with a piece of paper. The other officer furrowed his brows and turned to me.

"Merve Yılmaz, is that you, dear?" I took a deep breath and answered.

"Yes, it's me." Everything I had experienced seemed to be spiraling into an endless cycle. I felt like I was in an action-packed movie.

"Have you received any threats recently?" Threats? That was the last thing I needed in my life, I thought to myself.

"No! Someone came to my house with a gun last night. I thought they were a thief, that's all."

"I see. Where are your parents?" Same question again. The absence of my parents was something I felt at every moment of my life, and it exhausted me.

"I lost them in an assassination. Could it have anything to do with what's happening now?"

The officer put his thumb under his chin and his index finger on his chin. He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Do you have any more information about the assassination?" I took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

"No, they just said it wasn't an accident, that someone tampered with our car's circuits and it exploded, but that's just words, there's not a single piece of evidence."

These were professional people. There was no way they could have done this without leaving a trace.

"I see. Look, I don't want to scare you, but whoever killed your family is now after you." Was I scared of death? Yes, I was terrified!

"How did you come to that conclusion?" He unfolded the note from the man who shot me and handed it to me.

"The man who shot at you left a note. It says (This is just a warning for you, Merve Yılmaz. I hope you miss your parents)."

It was impossible not to be horrified. Would I never be able to live a day without fear?

"So, they're threatening me with death." That was the last thing I needed.

"I believe the person or people who killed your parents are the same ones after you. This is just a hypothesis though. From now on, you need to be very careful."

I was already careful. It had been a long time since I stopped living life in a straight line. Panic had taken over my entire body, and I couldn't live without being paranoid.

"So what do I do now?" I lowered my head helplessly. "Do you live alone?"

"Yes, but I can stay with my neighbors or family friends." I didn't want to get Büşra in trouble, but I had no other option.

"That would be a good idea, being alone right now is dangerous." Everyone seemed to be concerned about me, but I was alone. Everyone else seemed to have someone, but I was completely alone.

"Okay, thanks, I appreciate it." I didn't have the strength to lift my head. "Let us know about even the slightest incident, okay?" I nodded in agreement. It wasn't anything more than learned helplessness.

"Okay then, take care." The officer turned to his colleague and continued talking.

"Selim, immediately start monitoring the security cameras at the young lady's house, it will be watched 24/7." The officer named Selim quickly nodded.

"Of course, sir. I've taken her statement as is, I'll have her sign it and bring it back." I signed the paper he handed me and returned it, then he turned to Furkan, whom I had almost forgotten about.

"You both come too, we need to take your statement as well." I looked around to see who he was talking to.

"Sure, let's go." Furkan followed the officer to another room, and I stood there in the corridor, looking around, starting to think about how I was going to get home.

"Where do you live?" I jumped when I heard the voice next to me.

"Pardon?" What did he say? "Where is your house? Let's go as soon as possible."

I wasn't expecting such kindness, but his offer felt like a remedy. After giving him my address, we headed to my house. We didn't speak a word until we arrived. I probably had caused him a lot of trouble, but how could I have known I'd be shot at? Soon enough, we arrived at my house. I got out of the car. This time, I couldn't say anything. He seemed like he was about to say something, but he closed his mouth again. As the car drove away, my fear grew. I quickly went inside, packed my things, grabbed my phone and money, and went outside. I knocked on Büşra's door, but no one answered. As I was about to call her, I saw a message from her.

Sender: Büşra

"I came, but I couldn't find you. Grandma got sick, we're going to see her this weekend. Take care of yourself. Kissed."

No! This had to be a joke! What was I going to do now? I couldn't go back home, so I grabbed my suitcase and started walking. What should I do? Where should I go? Just as I was about to lose hope, one place came to mind. I had no other choice. I quickly flagged down a taxi, got in, and started thinking about what to say. "I wonder if I could stay at this house for a few days?" How would I ask? What if they refused? Then what would I do? I would either beg them to let me stay or leave without saying a word.