2

I loved my sister, but when she was around, my mother only took care of her. If I have to admit, with the maturity brought by the age of eighteen, I was really jealous of my sister; when I was a kid, I was jealous, and now I am. Moreover, when I returned from New York, her invitation had not shown even the slightest joy or smile.

"Lavin, that's enough!" He pulled out the earphones again. "Come to your senses! Why didn't you go to school?"

I rolled my eyes. Apparently, my mother, who was not interested in me, did not know about school hours. Looking into her eyes, "You're too late to ask that, Mommy!" I said through my teeth. "If you still want an answer, I didn't want to go today, I didn't."

"Get up now, I'm telling you, Lavin! I don't want her to see you so awful when September comes," she said, glaring at me with disgust. "She loves you, you know."

My mother turned on her heels, as if she realized that speech had pricked its thorns.

While looking angrily at the door he came out of, "Damn it! Eylul is your daughter too, but who am I?" I shouted. I could hear the sound of my mother's distant heels, and after a while the sound stopped, as if emphasizing that it was completely gone. My rebellious feelings deepened, heated in my heart, as a fiery tear scorched with anger slid down my cheek like overflowing lava. “I'm your daughter too!” he said poignantly as he grabbed the pillow behind me and tossed it to the closed door. I reproached. "Me too."

I could never understand my mother's behavior, why she didn't love me. Why was he always looking at me with hatred or disgust while looking at Eylul with love? Sometimes a terrible whirlwind was burning inside me, wanting to know these things. I placed my hands on her arms and screamed, 'Why are you doing this to me, Mother?' I wanted to shake it. Thousands of words that were clacking and searching for their meaning were roaring in my brain like bleeding wounds because their shells were torn off.

I didn't care that September came.

I got out of bed and tucked my cell phone on the nightstand in the tight pocket of my shorts, with barely enough money to take a taxi. I went in front of the mirror. My blue eyes had calmed and calmed after my irritability; it was as if my blue eyes, which seemed made of the skin of the sea, would soon merge with their owner into the blue depth of the sea. I scanned my blond hair, pushing back a few weak strands that had been falling into my ears.

I turned my back. As sadness swept over me, I looked at my colorless room with a strange urge to examine it. There were no traces of my own in this room; it was furnished in a stereotypical fashion. Except for the bed, the wardrobe, the full-length mirror, and the dressing table with the perfume and cream on it, nothing was in sight. Presumably, today's young girls' room is not so plain; on the contrary, it is chirpy. All my life I was stuck between these four walls, forgotten but never repaired. My sea-colored gaze wandered over the walls of the room, and I thought at that moment, "Why didn't I make an accessory that reminds me of myself, of my essence, to either side of those empty cream-colored walls?"

Shaking my head, I sat on my bed, and as I put on the black boots that stretched to my knees, I realized that I couldn't make sense of this sudden curiosity about my room.

When I stood up, I pulled my shorts down a little. As I reached the door and grasped the smooth gray handle of the door with the tension that surrounded me like ivy, I turned around and looked at it with investigative eyes, as if I had forgotten something behind me but did not know what I had forgotten.

I went through the corridor. I stared absentmindedly at the paintings placed on the partition walls separating the room doors. This strange look continued until he came to the top of the stairs. As he gripped the railing and slowly descended the steps, something was inevitably amiss.

I don't know what made me think of this.

I came out of the street door. Even though the cold air instantly enveloped my body, I did not react. As we exited the garden gate and waited for the taxi to arrive, the wind, which increased its intensity, began to sharpen and sharpen like a hunting knife; as the sharp cold turning into a hunting knife made long scratches on my body, the warmth of my skin mingled with the air like earth rising from the ground. The taxi was breaking through on the left side of the road, so I stopped and settled in and gave the address of the bar I used to go to.

When the taxi stopped in front of the bar at the end of half an hour, I gave the money and got down and entered the bar, where the loud music overflowed with impatient steps. I could feel the vascular beds extending from under my white skin, contracting with need and disturbing me, and my blood flow getting heavier. So as soon as I stepped inside, I looked for Khen as the shadow of the ball-shaped lights hanging from the ceiling and the blue and red lights fell over the already lost crowd, turning them red and blue.

I broke away from the crowd I had collided with and approached the bar counter. There was no bartender. Sitting on the stool to see the crowd having fun, I placed my right foot on the ledge of the stool while placing my elbows on the mosaic bar counter behind me; I was still looking around to find what I was looking for.

Meanwhile, a platinum blonde girl sat on the empty stool next to me and sang, "What's up, Lavin?" He continued without waiting for my response. "I love the name." She laughed like she was the happiest person in the world. I understood that he was partying with an expression that is often used in such places because he was happy, and his language lost its stability on the letters. I didn't have any intimacy with this girl; she was just someone I talked to on occasion. "Laviiinn. It's like a musical; it's a constant urge to repeat your name, at least in me."

“Stop repeating my name,” I said in a cold but dominant voice, looking blankly at him over that banana. I felt nauseous from the exaggerated gloss on the girl's lips; it was annoyingly noticeable, and it actually looked more like oil. I turned my sea-colored eyes to the crowd and said, "Look, where's Khen?" I asked. "Did you ever see him today?"

“Yeah, I saw it,” he said, scratching his head, releasing clumps of laughter into the air. "It was in here somewhere." Pointing his index finger at one end of the crowd, then the other, he said, "It could be here or there, but I don't remember where." I realized that his head was flying high. The girl stood up unsteadily. "I'm going to go dance."

As I looked after the girl passing by, I felt myself suffocating. Turning back on my stool, I turned my back on the crowd and rubbed my temples, exhaling exasperatedly; the crisis was imminent.