What happened to us? When did we become slaves of our fears? How did we forget that we could not love when we allowed our fears to rule us? Yet we still search for love…without while fears burn us within…
He finally found the answer. Years of agony, hatred, violence, endless fights, fears, fears and fears were now very clear in his mind. Yes, it was dark and that was the exact reason why the answer shone again and again like a thunderstorm. He found it hard to breathe. It was too painful to see the answer. How could he bear that now? He was now old and tired.
It all began when he saw two men with gun while taking his mother to the little medical center of the village on a horseback. Did they see him, he didn’t know. He slowed down, changed his way and began to ride through the little forest. He began to ride fast again. He saw them. They were waiting for him in the end of the forest. Were they going to shoot him? They could be members of the PKK. He was not sure; they could be state’s men, too. No one knew who was who any longer in the village.
“Let me go! I am taking my mother to the doctor, she is very ill.” he shouted and begged for mercy.
“Don’t bother!” they replied.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because the doctor is dead!” they shouted back.
“Was that true? Were they from PKK?” he asked himself, he was not sure. Maybe it was the state again. Didn’t they kill his brother assuming that he was a terrorist?
“Who are you?” he had to ask.
“No question little man!” they replied and rode their horses towards him.
“Let your mother die peacefully!” they advised him.
“How funny to hear you talking about peace!” he said.
They immediately began shooting. And he turned around, began riding back home, riding very fast.
They were never going to accept that.
“You think you are a hero huh?” they shouted.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he shouted back.
“You will see that soon little man!” they replied and continued shooting.
They rode and shot! He lost his mother in the end of the muddy forest road. She fell off the hoarse, she got shot! His horse was not! Not yet! He looked back but could not stop! He rode, they rode, he rode and they rode. No he was not going to ride home!
His father found his corpse by the lake close to their home hours later. He was an imam, washed his son’s body in the lake, prayed for him. He did not look for his wife’s corpse. He was more upset that he lost his horse. Neither his son nor his wife mattered.
When he opened his eyes in the afternoon, he was already in the coffin. It felt like he was in the air. He shouted! People shouted even louder. And: