The sixth part of Belaliz Shaheen’s story essay series …
As soon as I entered the house, I came face to face with my aunt Kesum. At that moment, Aunt Kesum fell to the ground …
What was going to happen?
The moment I entered and Aunty Kesum left, my mother, who shot like an arrow through the crowd, stretched out like a bow, hugged me wildly. That’s when I heard the whispers of the people inside.
“So the earth is dead!” They were saying.
As soon as I heard this whisper, my eyes went dark and I fell to the ground like Aunty Casey, the mother of the earth.
After being unconscious for about half an hour, my eyes opened, bursting like a fountain of water after a heavy rain. The melancholy surge of this river flowing from the fountain of my eyes seemed to have turned into a flood which swept away everything that came in its way. I didn’t see anything I was looking at. The rakes coming down from my ears to my heart, scratching at the hum of the crowd around me, made the spring in my eyes even more annoying. It’s dark all around. Before I could control the tears that came from the depths of my heart, I was drowning in the darkness around me.
I couldn’t believe it!
I didn’t want to believe it!
My soul was destroyed.
I turned my mother’s horrible anguish into mad joy by attending this room, where the pain of death and the joy of life are suddenly reversed, but the pain that I endured for a few hours stuck in Aunty Casey’s heart. Lifetime. It was as if I had created a dark sea, the sea in which Aunty Kesum had drowned, the sea in which I had drowned my mother with joy.
I was a criminal!
As if the pain of Aunt Kesum did not come from the realization of the world that she was dead, but from my standing in front of her as if she had resurrected. The wound of losing my blood brother forever was already burning in my heart, but this wound, which was scratched by Aunt Kesum’s tears, I saw alive whose heart was broken, bleeding and hurting me even more.
The hours that passed between the wet and empty eyes of my eyes, lost in the darkness that descended on my heart, could not bring me to my senses. I was startled when the siren sounded at midnight. I threw myself. The owner of the siren, an ambulance, brought the body to Earth. My father grabbed me and took me inside our house. My resistance to my father did not work. He didn’t want me to see the funeral. I’m not alone in hiding in my father’s arms. My other friends, with whom we dreamed of Damascus, were also part of my father’s wrath. My father locked the four of us in the house and locked the front door. Earth’s funeral was held while we were crying in the room we were in. My father, who, after performing his religious duties, opened the outer door on the way to the cemetery, let us go to the janaza.
They buried our world without seeing it.
The crowd at the graveyard then dispersed. The world was very afraid of darkness. We couldn’t leave the world alone on this dark night that darkened our hearts together with Derbyshire. I stayed in the graveyard with the permission of my parents. Aunty Kesum and all my friends stood by the grave of the earth and talked to her till 3.5 o’clock in our minds. In the morning, we return to our home to greet the gloomy sunrise. How could we even sleep? The sun did not illuminate any place that day. The sun cannot be the sun without the earth.
For about a week, I took nothing but water and sleeping pills. There was a miserable situation around me. My family said life goes on. Yes! Life went on, but the obstacle that made up my heart was interrupted, and as it went on it was lame.
Two days after the world’s burial, a crowd of 8- to 13-year-old children studying at Derbyshire Elementary School took to the streets. Slogans adorned with human emotion rose from these tiny faces, overflowing from the walls of the streets and penetrated the ears of the elders subtly and pierced their hearts.
Belaliz Shaheen’s story essay will continue …