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SERKAN ENGIN

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 3/10/2015 |




The wipers of the car weren't able to catch on, to postpone the curtain of the rain...Cemal parked the car to the pupilary of desolation. He breathed the horror closely. After all, death had passed from here scaping. In the air, the fear of death that was mixed with earth smells of  rain... The night was the widest shelter of murder anyway in every meridian circle. Cemal's every step was a window that was opened to concern. He had no wish to meet a new corpse tonight. But the duty was inescapable.

Night had attached the moon to it's collar like a diamond brooch.

Black clouds were dispersed, promising to meet again in a new activity. 

The moon was trying to infiltrate the house crashing with the light of the kitchen lamp. The rain was withdrawn from the window leaving the fingerprints on the glass. Jülide was standing in front of the kitchen stand like an exclamation mark. She carried on rinsing the plate in her palms. An unseen peace spread on her face. And Jale's dead body lying on the table, deep purple...

Julide never hesitated to get into action. Because the magma layer of hatred which had accumulated inside her had overflown long time ago. Because since her childhood whatever she wanted was taken away from her hands by Jale. Cemal was the last one...Nobody could guess the volume of Julide's disappointment. Jülide was extremely tired of this competition that was going for forty years.

And she wanted to win the last round, by taking the sweet life of Jale that  she loved so much.

It was a dinner as always, putting carnation on the collar of sorrow. In the begining it was a farewell of another day of two missed lives.

Tonight there were no whispers of children in the house, there was no husband to ring the doorbell again. Food was being eaten in the kitchen that was filled with silence. Jülide was as calm as a lake as if it was not she who was going to strangle her sister in a short while. In fact, she was not that far to the thought of murder. In her head she had killed Jale several times in different ways.

She slowly got up from the table with an excuse. The time  for revenge had come for Jülide. She went to the bedroom and took the belt that she had prepared before like a rope. She felt neither excitement, nor fear. She didn't even care that she was going to be a sister killer and going to rot in jail. She headed towards the kitchen with sneaky and dark steps as a leopard approaching it's prey. She was going to fade lillies of the time in Jale's hand immediately. With the belt hidden behind her she went into the kitchen . Jale was sitting at the table with her back to the door. She put the belt on her neck speedily and started to squeeze with all her strength.  

Her victim was shaken strongly and tried to protect her throat. A strangled moan was coming out of her mouth. Julide, tightened the belt stronger. The blindsided Jale with her unconsciously shaken hands, scattered everything on the table. The chronic hatred inside Julide had erupted like a volcano at last. A deep violence was flowing from her fingers towards Jale's throat. Then the floundering stopped. Jale had breathed her last breath finally. His face was deep purple, and her eyes were wide open.

She kept on pressing the belt to be sure that she was dead. When she finalized pressing it, Jale's head fell on to the table like an overthrown tree. All of a sudden Jale felt herself as light as a feather. Her soul was filled with an indescribable peace. Finally she had succeeded.

She immediately went into the bathroom and tidied her hair. She shouldn't meet the police with an untidy appearance. She carefully put on her make-up and combed her hair. Then returned to the kitchen and tidied up the table.

Calling the police she told them in cold blood that she had committed a murder. And she carried on washing the dishes while she was waiting for the police.

Cemal was moving on with his car splitting the mourning of the city with the question marks in his mind. The killer was working fastidiously. The research team at the incident point couldn't find any clue once more. The victim had been murdered with the same methods like before. On the back the inscription was carved saying 'Blood voices in my handkerchief.' and a big letter E in the midst of the chest... 'Ok, understood that the killer only kills those who were discharged of pardon benefits. This was the only common thing of the victims. He punished them in his own way. It's ok until now. Possibly a pardon victim. But then what do those inscriptions mean trying to express something but in a very complicated way. And what do those letters mean that were carved on their chests?..Oh it's not easy not to get insane. There is neither any clue nor an eye witness. Only these goddamn inscriptions. He was tired of struggling with the questions that bled his mind. The pressure of his superiors was increasing every minute. Not being able to make any progress on this case was standing out like a black stain. All the questions that forced his mind immediately disappeared when he saw the police car in front of the house. What was the police emergency team doing here?.. As he parked the car quickly and went downstairs, Jülide came out of the door attended by two policemen. His astonishment was increased when he saw Jülide with handcuffs. He approached them and asked in a panicky way :

 ''What's wrong Jülide?''

Jülide  looked at  Cemal with  a vacant look. She had a calm expression her face like a paper-ship swimming in a bowl.

''Chief, this lady has murdered her sister'' said the officer standing next to her. Cemal felt as if he had received a big punch in his stomach. She stood there looking at Julide with questioning eyes. Jülide on the other hand was looking around indifferently.

As the officers were taking Jülide away, Cemal was nailed on the pavement. Barbed wire had embraced his heart. With stammering steps he hardly headed the house.

''My God, what have I done, oh my god.''

A dreadful regret was pressing his heart like a crampon. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare...Rain had stopped. Night was stuck  on the city like a wet dress. At this moment Cemal wanted to be a bug and dissapear in the most hidden corner of the city. His heart had crashed to sorrow wherever he turned. Sorrow  had collapsed on him like earthquake rubble.

All of a sudden the sound of the morning prayer filled the room. Cemal directed his unconscious eyes towards the window. The sky was being knitted with iron knots. The rhymed clouds were shoulder to shoulder in the sky. An experienced wind was spoiling the face of the city.
A turned Wuthering was approaching the capillary vessel of the city. Cemal got up from his armchair in a terrible manner.

All night long he wandered in the house with  a heavy struggle with his consciousness. When he came to the police station he was like a ship  abandoned as junk. He slowly committed suicide with every cigarette he  lit. The chief had called him and offered a couple of days vacation which Cemal gracefully refused. He knew very well that the only consolation for him was his job.

Ümit couldn't approach Cemal for a long while. He didn't know what to say. Then first he presented his condolences and then gave his report about the beheaded murder that was found yesterday. No clue had been found again except the inscription saying ''blood voices on the handkerchief'' and a big ‘E’ that was carved on body's back.

No matter how much Cemal forced himself, he had difficulty in  concentrating on his job. The possible states of Jale'S body was forcing the limits of his mind.

(To Be Continued)


[SERKAN ENGIN]

Translated by Metin Anli
Edited by Aparajita Sen





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