DESTINY

FROM MISERY TO MISERY

Never have I ever been this excited to return back to my home...
The place I hated the most.

Or so I thought, before I stepped into the home of the devil.

And look at me now, all humble, and thankful to go to my abusive family.

Who would've known, that one mistake, led to an apocalypse.
An apocalypse that unveiled itself, by it's own permission.

And even tho it ended, there are the side effects, am I right?

I stare at my old house, that I've spent most of my life in.
Where bad things and good things have happened.

Memories have been made, and destroyed.

But nobody cares.

I knock on the dusty, heavy door, which releases a way louder noise than I intended it to release.

The door opens, revealing my sister and her tired face.

"Ezra?" She let's out, with her wild eyes now wide open.

I smile as I pull her into a hug.

"Man astam, Damsa." I whisper as tears prickle down my eyes.

(It's me, Damsa)

I pull away with a wide smile, but her face was still shook.

"Padar va Madarem kuja ast?" I ask, not even letting her answer as I welcome myself inside.

(Where's mom and dad?)

"Ki ast Damsa?" My mom yells, but soon gets met with my face.

(Who is it, Damsa?)

"Madar!" I immediately hug her tightly.

(Mom!)

"Ezra?" She whispers, in a questioning voice.

I was really getting ready for the first hug my mom would give me after a long time, but only get a slap on my face.

I hold my, still tingling cheek, not out of pain, but out of shock.

"Dokhtare faisha!" My mom thunders, making me flinch at the harsh words.

(Daughter of a whore!)

"Madar-

(Mom-)

"Bama madar nago, awwal as khana farar mekoni, baz ke manaye famileta fahmidi, amadi pas peshte ma?" She continuosly yells, while I try not to burst out crying.

(Don't call me mother, first you run away from home, and when you realize the meaning of your family, you return back to us?)

"Che shoda?" Suddenly my dad comes from the corner.

(What's happening?)

"I pas amada khana." My mom informs my taken back dad.

(She has returned.)

The expression my mother held was enough to break me fully.

"Ne...rast magi, madar. Man faisha astam." I surrender sarcastically, but I actually was telling them the truth.

(No...you are telling the truth, mom. I am a whore.)

I became someone's whore, to be honest.
I became a whore, just to save these people's lives.

But it's fine.

"Tu ki asti ke zaban darazi mekoni bama?" My mom takes step forwards towards me, attempting to scare me...but I wasn't intimidated at all.

(Who are you to sass back to me?)

"Chi goftem? Agar ekadar ba shoma sakhti miyaram, mitanam emdafa rasti as khana farar konam..." I speak back, as I turn back to leave the house, until I get pulled back my hair.

(What did I say? If I'm such a burden to you, then I can actually run away this time...)

"Ecchai nameri...echaza nadari ma ra badnam koni. Arusi mekoni kache amu Mahdi bacha, baz mebrai." My mom just blurts out whatevercame into her mind, and surprisingly nobody argued against her.

(You are not going anywhere... you do not have the permission to ruin our reputation. You will marry that boy named Mahdi and then you will leave.)

"Baba..." I look at my silent dad, that wasn't saying anything.

He was usually the one who loved me more than my mom, he of course, loved Damsa more, but he didn't treat me as bad as my mother.

This time he was quiet.
There was no one to defend me from this.

I dash towards my crusty old room, that was messy, really messy.
At least I had a room only to myself, I should be thankful for that?

Because I really can't do this anymore, I can't find anything to be thankful for...

Just like...from a misery to another misery.

HARUN.

I need both of my parents for the rishta, I need to reunite them, fuck...

What if her parents don't accept?
What if I can't find her?
What if she is already espoused to someone else.

"Patron! Are you listening to me?" Ibrahim's drunk voice brings me back to earth.
"Yes, I am listening." I lie, but Ibrahim already knew.

I start blinking vigorously, when I start seeing Ibrahim with two heads.

"Patron?" Ibrahim's annoying drunk voice, once again asks.
"What Ibrahim, what?" I respond, putting all my attention on his upcoming question.
"I haven't seen that girl around...Ezra! Where is she?" He asks in the perfect time, just when I was thinking about her.
"I let her go." I hesitate to answer at first, but do anyways.
"Oh...so you beat me up to a pulp just to let her go?" He shockingly, but also sarcastically asks.
"Ağabey, I told you it was an act of repulse! I didn't mean to-
"It was just a joke, patron. I wouldn't care if you killed me, since you always have a reason to everything." Ibrahim states, while taking a drink from his vodka.

I smile at him.
He was my one and only loyal friend, cousin, family, best friend, brother, you name it...

"Ibrahim...I want to get married." I out of nowhere, mention, making him spit out his vodka.
"Whaaattt?" His drunk voice, once again yells, making people peek at us.
"Yesterday, you hated marriage more than I hate my parents!" He crazily states, making me raise my eyebrows at his deep statement.

He never bring his parents up to the topic.

"Well, I guess I don't." I stupidly reply, feeling my head getting fuzzier every second.
"Who changed your mind?" He laughs out, taking another sip out of his bottle.
"...Ezra." I gather the courage to say it out loud -once again- making him spit out his vodka.
"Your submissive?!" He spits loudly, this time, making everyone laugh at them.
"Calm the fuck down." I say, feeling annoyed by his drunk side.
"And she is my ex submissive." I correct him, right after my other sentence.
"Hmmm, what makes you think she will accept?" Ibrahim mocks, while turning to look towards the ocean.
"If I made her my submissive, I'll get her to be my wife." I state in full satisfaction, knowing that my power was enough to espouse her.
"Of course." Ibrahim rolls his eyes while taling deep inhale."
"How do I ask for her hand, help me Ibrahim." I finally, cut to the case.
"I meannn... you are the half pakistani one here, why are you asking me?" Ibrahim raises his hands in surrender, making me laugh at his stupid logic.
"Oh and last time I checked, you are the full turk one here, and don't try to act like Turkey is fully Europanized." I play along with his stupidity, making him scoff at me.
"Fine fine!" He surrenders, while taking a shaky breath.
"You need to get your parents together- which is far impossible...but it's finee...
And then you get married." Ibrahim crazily explains, which only gave me a bigger headache.
"Tamam, sakin oldu, ağabey." I rub his shoulder, making him nod his head in reply.
(Okay, calm down, brother.)

We both turn around to face the open ocean in front of us, and let it soothe us.

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