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SHADOW GIRL - Murat Tuncel - Varlık Yayınları from Gölgekiz Book

Her hand was also in my palm when she stripped her gaze from the spot she had been staring at for hours. She had neither been looking at my face nor letting go of my hand for a long time. Her hand was cold but I felt something flow towards my heart from her fingertips. When that crazy feeling mixed into my blood I began to caress those fingertips. I was caressing them as I looked at her face. Her face hadn’t changed at all. The youth of her face was still there. The years passing by hadn’t taken anything away from her face; only her gaze had become a bit glassier. I neared her hand in my palm to my lips with an irresistible urge. Just as I was about to touch my lips to her skin, I thought her flesh might get stuck on my lips. I swiftly pushed back the hand that I neared to my lips but I didn’t let go of it. I knew that if I let go of her hand I wouldn’t be able to hold it again. While I was being consumed by my high and low tides, her lips which had been motionless for hours moved for the first time. “Did you like the house?” I looked at the sea grapes in the garden without letting go of her hand. They seemed like they were rotten but not even a single one of them had fallen from the branches. They were perhaps waiting for us to walk under them until they fell. I noticed she was closer to me when I turned around and looked at the somewhat large drawing room of the two storey house. Her hand which was cold a little while ago had begun to warm up. For the second time she asked, “Did you like the house?” I responded simply with, “It’s nice.” Her lips were smiling with a smile I could make nothing of when our gaze met. For a split second, it felt as if she were about to laugh out loud. I excitedly began to wait. I thought if she laughed out loud she would become a snow-white candle again but that laughter that spread across her lips quickly disappeared between her teeth just as when it arrived. Once again her gaze became fixed on the spot on which it was before she held my hand. Just as I was thinking to myself that this would be “the end”, her fingers in my palm started to move hysterically. I felt like laughing aloud instead of feeling the burning fire in my heart after all those years. Yet, I held myself together; I didn’t laugh because I knew that as soon as she heard my voice the magic of it all would be shattered like glass pavilions. She suddenly got up as I was biting my lips in order to keep quiet. She started walking towards the staircase like she never left the house. She had only taken two steps when she turned around and said, “Come on, get up, let’s have a walk around the house,” like a corpse calling out to its soul as she started walking towards the staircase on the far side of the drawing room. I thought that if I didn’t follow her, her arm would detach itself from her shoulder and her hand would remain my hand. Fearing this, I followed her, striding briskly. My fear swelled as I advanced into the darkness of the drawing room. She, however, was joyfully prancing around just like she did all those years ago when we met for the first time. We walked the long drawing room from end to end, between the unorganised and fusty furniture. She turned around and started to quickly descend the stairs when we were on just the third step of the one that led to the second floor of the house. As she began to go down, she also let go of my hand. I started to follow her as I thought she was playing a new game. When she noticed that I was following her she paused. She said, as she softly turned her head around and looked at me over her shoulder, “You should stay there, stay by the staircase.” I stood on the bottom step of the staircase. As she walked I watched the movement of her hips, which looked as if they were mounted below her slender waist running down from her broad shoulders by someone else or borrowed from a corpse on her way here. She had only taken a few steps when she began to run around. She stopped in front of a door opening to the drawing room across from the staircase. She turned back. She first looked out into the garden from the window she looked out of a short while ago and then she looked at me. Upon seeing me standing motionless on the staircase she placed her index finger on her lips; “Shush.” Once she turned around and was standing in front of the kitchen door, she slowly pushed the handle down and then banged the door open. As soon as the door opened wide she quickly entered the kitchen; a pitch-black room that seemed bottomless. I recoiled when the door banged against the wall behind and shut itself. The noise of massive cauldron toppling over in the kitchen could be heard. The lid of the cauldron which also rolled over crashed into something iron and loudly fell on the ground. I gathered that something soft fell on top of it from the sound. I wanted to run through that door to find out what was going on inside but she had told me to “stay there”. I couldn’t tell if I were scared of losing her after all these years or whether she would take me with her, too. I was just standing still on the last step of the staircase. She returned to the drawing room again with something dangling from her fingertips after opening the door from which she previously entered and shut behind her. At first, I couldn’t figure out what she was holding. I realised that it was a mouse once she came a bit closer. I began to shake in fear. I thought about climbing up the stairs in one breath, jumping out the first window I came across and running away from the house. Though, I felt tired and couldn’t move an inch from the spot I was standing on. After taking a few steps towards me, she flung the mouse which she was holding from its tail onto me. I went weak at the knees, I hunkered down on the spot I was standing as I covered me face with my hands. The mouse flew over my head, brushing my hair, and hit the banisters before falling onto the wooden floorboards. I wasn’t even brave enough to look at her face. She came closer to me. She ruffled my hair with her fingertips to give me courage. I removed my hands from my face. I looked into her eyes. Without taking any notice she pointed to the mouse which had fallen on the floor and said, “It was in the large cauldron. Who knows how long it’s been in there!” I was only looking at her face. My understanding of what she was saying was constrained due to the rustling in my ears. It was as if both words and her breath were melting and disappearing in her mouth and between her teeth. She extended the hand with which she held the mouse and held my hand. I pulled my hand back forcefully but she wouldn’t let go. She tugged on my arm and began to climb the stairs again. Her hand was slowly getting warmer like those self-burning incense sticks. As I climbed the stairs after her I felt that the warmth of her hand flowed into mine and paced towards my shoulder. I thought that my arm may burn to ashes before the climb up the stairs was complete as it became increasingly hot. I was tongue-tied. I couldn’t speak either, because I was scared or because of all the things that had happened. In fact I had become so dull that I wasn’t even aware of my own breathing anymore. Seeming unaware of anything and in a dreamy tone she hysterically said, “Be quick, be quick!” to me as she climbed up the stairs spreading a warm yellow hue from her wobbly buttocks. I understood that my heart could no longer take this excitement. I hastily pulled my hand back and saved it from hers. She furiously turned back and retook my hand with a nimble motion. And, as she powerfully pulled my arm, she said: “There must be a room right at the top of the stairs, just to the left. It has a carved mahogany door. You can’t have seen such a beautiful door anywhere else. The wood was brought over from India. They always used to catch me watching that door each morning when they came out of their room. I didn’t know what it was about it that attracted me to it but I could never get enough of watching that door. I was surely very curious about what was happening behind that door, what they were doing in that room. However, because they didn’t let me, I couldn’t go in. Let alone the fact that they didn’t let me go in my mother even got angry every time she saw me looking at the door, she used to clench her jaw and ask ‘you again?’ which would be followed by a smack across the face and would continue with an intimidating voice, asking, ‘Were you spying on us?’.” “Even though I tried to explain to her that I didn’t go near their door and that I didn’t peek in their room in a fraught and teary-eyed state, my mother never believed me. After smacking me and catching me across the face twice more she would descend down the staircase muttering to herself. She used to pause on that last step where you were standing before, turn back and point her finger at me as she said, ‘If I catch you again I will hollow out your eyes’.” “My father either came downstairs before or after her, swaggering like a sultan resolute upon war. “Once when I came out of my room, their door was ajar. I stopped and began to watch it but the bluish light in the room caught my attention. Although I forced myself not to look in I saw my stark-naked father lying on the divan. He saw me, too. “He said, ‘Come’ in a soft tone of voice. “I began to cry. But this time around my father’s low and angry voice echoed, ‘I told you to come here’.” “I was so scared that I didn’t know what to do. I felt as if he would tear me to pieces if I didn’t do as he said. I walked towards him crying and weeping. After covering a section of his body with one corner of the sheet he told me to climb up on the bed. I climbed on the bed faint-heartedly. He held me from under my arms and sat me down on his chest. ‘Are you really curious about this room? “That soft, loving voice of his was back again. ‘No,’ I said. I vigorously shook my head to the sides to convince him of my reply. ‘If so, why do you look in here every day?’ “It had never crossed my mind that he thought like my mother. When I understood that he also thought like my mother I trembled. I climbed down the bed in order to run away but before I could get far my father caught me by the arm. He made me sit on his chest again. He caressed my back and my hair with his large hands. “He said ‘Don’t cry’ as his fingers ran up and down my back for a while more. ‘Don’t cry, when you grow up you will also have a wide and large bed such as this.’ “He told me not to cry but I began to sob. He threw me onto the ground like a piece of wood when he heard me sobbing. I fell on my knees. I was hurting. I ran all the way to the stairs as I cried. After that neither did I look at the door of that room again nor did I step inside it.” As she was talking she squeezed my hand tightly. When my hand hurt I pulled it back again. She turned back hastily and hit me hard on the cheek with the same hand. Then she pushed me back from my shoulders. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. She ran after me. She held my hands and helped me get up. She sat me down on the first step of the staircase after she threw her arms around my neck and gently kissed me on the cheek. Then she also sat next to me. The vent of her skirt revealed her legs as she sat down. She pulled my head towards hers. When my head became positioned by her breasts, she asked “Would you like suck on my breasts?” I replied, “No.” I placed my cheek in between her sizeable breasts without looking at her face. She held my hand and began to run it up and down her leg. Her thighs were both cold and shaking. With her vacant hand she pushed my head against her breasts. As she pushed my head against her breasts she leaned her head back. She told me to kiss her snow-white neck which appeared in all its splendour. I was ready to kiss her but just then she placed her hand on my forehead and pushed my head back. She said, “Don’t kiss it, if you kiss it I will get ticklish and if so, our dream will end.” As my lips trembled my breath licked her half-bare shoulder. She unbuttoned another button on her blouse. She said, “Kiss there.” I inclined and slowly touched with my lips. She suddenly pushed away my hand which she was directing me to hover over her buttocks as if my hand was an unused piece of furniture. She began to caress her buttocks with her hand. She pressed one of her breasts against my cheek again. She pushed my head towards her breasts again. When my breath flowed towards her stomach she lay back. She held my hand with both her hands. She pressed her lips against mine. She had bad-breath. I wanted to pull my head away but couldn’t get out of her strong hands. She let go of my head after kissing me at length. She placed her hands on her breasts. I stood up hurriedly and began to run towards the door. She let out such laughter that I froze in my footsteps. She said, “Come,” in a soft tone of voice. She waited a little while and then took a deep breath. She then said, “Come, sit down and listen to what I am going to tell you.” I went and sat down next to her. She buttoned the button which she unbuttoned shortly before. She poised her lips in a kiss and kissed mine. Her bad-breath of a short while ago had vanished. Just as that rancid smell had vanished, her mouth had a beautiful scent. I put my arms around her neck. She held my hands. She placed my hands from around her neck to around her waist. She put her head on my chest. She said, “Caress my hair a little.” She fell asleep as I caressed her hair. I had no idea what to do. I waited undecided for a considerable amount of time. When it became darker than dark I began to both be scared of her and of all the other dead. She woke up when my body shook in fear. I said, “You woke up quickly.” “I am a light sleeper”, she said. She held my fingers which were still running through her hair. She took my hand into her palm. She took a couple of deep breaths without looking at my face. “It’s dark here now. Let’s go out into the garden,” she said. She was going to talk about something. She didn’t. She stayed quiet for a while longer. I could no longer see her face in the dark. I could only hear her steady breathing. She squeezed my hand in her palm. “So I suppose you are scared of the dark. I have been used to it for years…” I got mad at myself. I repined, “It is all over now, she is going to get up and leave.” Though, neither did she get up and leave, nor did she make any movement that displayed discomfort. She just continued as if she were talking to herself: “That last evening when my father arrived home I knew something was going to happen. His face was bright red. It was obvious that he had drunk a lot. Every evening when he arrived he threw things around and broke something, intimidated us, turned off the television, breathed through his bulbous nose as he took his jacket which covered his wide shoulders off and placed it on a hanger. He scared us to death with his anger or his alcohol induced blood-shot eyes. We used to run up into our room with my siblings when he looked so. He, on the other hand, used to lie on the couch and sleep. We didn’t leave our room until he left the house in the morning. “He arrived home very late on that last night. We, three sisters, were concerned thinking that something had befallen him because, despite all his cruelty, we had no one other than him. Perhaps we did but because we were banned from leaving the house we didn’t know of anyone who could care for us. Our entire world was our father and our two-storey house. When he arrived late that night his eyes were blood-shot again. He took his jacket off and hung it on the hanger behind the door as soon as he entered the house. He looked even scarier when his thick, muscular biceps showed. It was as if a giant was breathing in the house as he inhaled and exhaled. We got ready to get up and climb up the stairs as he walked towards the couch. He said, ‘You sit down and watch television’, to my little sisters. “My sisters looked at me as they wavered between joy and despair. I implied that they should stay. I happily climbed up the staircase thinking that my father would at least treat my sisters well. I wanted to delve into the daydream of that first day on which I gathered up my strength, opposed all my fears and talked to you as soon as possible. I had just put on my nightie and was about to lie down on my bed when I heard my father’s footsteps climbing up the staircase. It had perhaps been years since he last slept in his own bed. Or, had my father finally really changed? As my thoughts faltered between joy and despair, the door of our room opened. He leaned on the doorpost and looked at me. He opened his wide mouth and laughed showing all his teeth. I feared the hidden meaning in his laugh. I thought about escaping and running down to join my sisters but it was impossible for me to escape his strong arms. I sat on my bed. I curled up into a ball and began to wait. He said, with his coarse tone of voice which he used when he shouted at my mother, ‘You have grown so much more than what I had imagined.’ My head throbbed as his coarse voice echoed in my ears. He shut the door. I wasn’t surprised by the fact that he shut the door but by that he turned the key and locked the door. I opened my fearsome eyes wide and looked at him. “He was coming closer to me. I climbed up on my youngest sister’s bed with a quick move and leaned my back against the wall. He reached out and caught me. When he squeezed my arms with his powerful arms, I shouted out, ‘Father!’ “As soon as he heard me shouting his everyday anger emerged. He pushed me against the wall in rage. I thought my waist broke. ‘Ouch!’ I said in a tone of voice that interspersed a scream with weeping. “I pushed myself but my voice wouldn’t come out again. He reached out one of his hands and squeezed my right breast. He bent my arm and made me sit down on my sister’s bed. He also sat down next to me. When I moved to get away from him he slapped me bitterly on the mouth. My nose and lips became numb. I thought I could hear my sisters’ footsteps. When I opened my mouth to call them to help me a second slap landed on my face. The blood that flowed from my nose dripped in between my breasts. Once again, in fear while weeping I cried, ‘Father!’ “He looked into my eyes and said, ‘I am not your father. I am not sure if I am the father of the other two either. That slag you call mother inflicted you all on me and left.’ “When he said those words he began to shake like a man in pain. Perhaps he was crying but I couldn’t see because I didn’t dare to look at his face. After he shook me a few times he said, “Today you are eighteen. I am going to wed you with a religious ceremony. That way you can stay in the house and look after your sisters.’ “As he let go of my arm he pushed me onto the bed. He calmly walked towards the door as if he hadn’t just destroyed my entire world. When he went out on to the landing he shut the door and in order to imprison me in the room he turned the key in the lock twice. “After he left my weeping stopped gradually. After the day you and I met, I had gotten a rope so that if needed to I could get out the window at night. It was always under my bed. I took the rope from under the bed without a single thought in my head. I hung myself from the rope which I tied to the chandelier by placing my sisters’ beds on top of each other and became the shadow girl that enters your dreams now and then.” As soon as her sentence ended she swiftly stood up. She slowly let go of my hands. She disappeared into the dark with brisk steps as I attempted to get to my feet.

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