Chapter 1
The wandering wanderer
My throat and nose are irritated and my lips are dry. Strange wheezing comes out from my throat.
‘Where are you running away? Wait, you goddamn!’
His yell and cry trembles all of my body cells as an electric shock. The more I try to take my steps faster, the less my speed is. Like I’ve fallen into the swamp; the more I struggle, the more I go down. I can hear my heartbeats, it beats too fast. My toes blistered insomuch as I have been running too much and yet I feel no pain. I can hear his smooth steps and the sound of his clothes which are fluttering in the wind flow. He shouts madly and beg me.
‘Wait! Please wait. I’ll kill you just by one shot. Wait, you goddamn, I have no remedy, I have to do this; I promise you feel no pain.’
He says such things, once threatening, once begging and once both of them. Maybe he is right, I shouldn’t scape. He may help me. He may keep me out of death. I shake my head to let the evil thoughts come out of my head. I should keep my distance from him as far as I can. I should focus on environs, but I feel giddy. My eyes go black. It seems as if black shadows are running to me and throw me off-balance.
Although the sky is a little brighter now, but I can’t see the distance further than seven or eight meters. Once in a while, I lose my control and go on my way tottering. The act of the wind once brings him closer to me, so that I feel his hand touches my clothes, and another time keeps him away from me, as if he has made a dive into a ditch.
The more his shouts and the fear of him force me to run faster, the more tiredness, disappointment and the cool wind attack wear me down. I would like to sleep. I would like to die. I like to talk with somebody else in front of fireplace…I’d like…I want. The thoughts which are passing through my head, make the environs dim for me. Suddenly, I feel that the ground is coming toward me. My eyes are closed spontaneously and my hands stand in front of my chest as two levers.
I feel a soft mattress which attracts my body. Coarse grains fill my mouth. My eyes are closed and my body becomes loose. It seems as if an obscure voice from another world is talking to me. I want to reply it, but just a weak voice comes out of my throat.
A tottering shadow approaches me, it is like he has enfolded himself in a black cloth. He has put his hands on his knees and his rib cage goes up and down. He sits on his knees and brings his hand toward my face.
All of a sudden something lifts me up from the ground and stands me on my feet. And this thing is just a fear. Sometimes, fear makes human personality renitent more than bravery. Now this fear has empowered me and with its help I can see the man in front of me who has aimed a rather small knife at me. He is foaming at the mouth and with his wide eyed is looking at me. The sound of his steady, but fast, breathing leaves the wind behind off and on, and I can hear it. He makes no move. Suddenly, his eyes’ expression changes and, while he lowered his eyebrows, looks at me seriously.
‘Don’t panic! I’ll knock you off fast.
I remain frozen, and try to consider all of his motions. I take my knife out of my belt and point it to him. I’d like to thrust my knife into his heart. I press my right foot on the ground to make a sally against him. All of a sudden something from the invisible world strikes my head and dissuade me from doing this. I shake my head to make the ominous crows fly from my shoulders.
I try not to wink my eyelids lest he can go out of my sight. I stand with my feet far from each other to be in a good position to run away. I try to stand straight, but my chest is going to blow out. My panting is not finished yet. Sometimes the images in front of me become dim and the sounds are echoed through my ears like a blast.
He spins the knife in his hand, and a smile appears in the corner of his lips. He throws his knapsack on the ground and approaches me some steps. I want to step backward but yet I don’t want to give him even a little chance and I say:
‘Wait a minute. Listen to me. We can still endure. We’re nearly there. Trust in me. Believe me.’
He comes two steps closer to me without replying a single word. I say again:
‘Look. Wait a minute. Listen. This is not the way it should be. Still…’
He cuts me short and says indifferently:
‘You listen to me. I haven’t come this far to die of hunger…’
I cut his word:
‘I have still some food. We can…’
I can feel his feet pressure on the sands. Suddenly, he jumps on me by taking two steps. I dodge to be secure from his attack. His hand touches my back, but I manage to escape from his claws. I roll on the ground and keep the knife away from my body.
All of a sudden, I hear his yell as he approaches me. I turn and look behind. I see him just one step away from me. My foot aims at him spontaneously and I beat him at his chest. He flops aside. I want to get up, but my body is flinching. I can’t hold the knife in my hands. I experience a heaviness in my head and I feel as though my body has turned into muscles without bones.
He rubs his chest and curses. He takes his knife and stands up slowly. This time, he comes to me calmly and indifferently. Again, I feel something else, beside him, is coming toward me.
‘Come on, you goddamned! I give you everything.’
I throw my knapsack to him. It falls in front of his feet. He pushes it aside with his foot and cries:
‘I haven’t had anything to eat in five days. I can no longer tolerate hunger.’
‘So what about me?’
‘This isn’t my problem.’
Again, I feel my old friend, the fear, beside me. I recede a little, squeeze the knife tightly in my hand and sprinkle a handful of dust onto him. I take the chance and stand up immediately. I see he has covered his eyes with his hands and is cursing steadily whilst yelling.
Suddenly, my soles turn hot, my body flames up and I run to him according to my heartbeats. I lift my hand and beat him in his leg with my knife. I feel I have fell into a frozen lake. My hands turn pale and my hair stand on end. I take a few steps backwards and just look at him that has fallen on the ground and held his thigh with his hands. His leg is red with his blood that is flowing out through his fingers.
Again, I feel my old friend, the fear, beside me which pushes me. I take a few steps by its force and then, I stop. I should help him. But my friend fear insists on going. I take my knapsack. By the will of the fear, I am forced to escape from there. His yells become muffle in the wind and his image fades out in the darkness.
I intervene my hand in front of my face to see a little bit better and to prevent wind from direct blowing on my face. The wind blows toward me faster than my movement. Blood, knife; I should helped him. His image appears in front of my eyes every second. I knifed him like a coward. His crying. Blood. No, I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I back to him.
I go on my way tottering and look around. I can’t see anything but my eyes are searching round spontaneously as a habit that is hard to quit. Maybe there would be a hope. I look around carefully may I find it, but it is a wild goose chase, darkness makes it impossible. Besides, the mixture of the darkness with the blue sky associates the depth of the sea.
My feet no longer obey my brain. The darkness, the blood, the knife, and the chill. I sit on my knees like someone who is waiting for his decapitation and put my hands on the ground. It is like my brain is enclosed with a fence. Nothing comes to my mind. My hands are trembling, then break like two sticks and I fall down involuntarily. The sounds turn to silence from ambiguity and a black curtain covers my eyes.