The Helpless Hill

The engine of his automobile was burning diesel as his conscience ate at his soul.

Above, the sky resembled his tempestuous mind as thunder echoed outside. Cars drove away to escape the thunderstorm and people ran from one place to another, seeking shelter from the unrelenting rain.

He was thrown into Hell for three years and emerged as The Ruthless. His vicious hatred towards her grew, much like roses in the desert. To him, she was not just a little girl, but a Devil in disguise.

Despite everything that happened during their engagement, she had hoped that he would at least give her time to get used to the idea of being married and respect her voice.

However, he did not give her time or respect.

Sinbad had known enough men in prison who had done unspeakable things to their women and still felt pride. Not a single one of them showed any remorse for their actions. They would beat, slap, and force themselves on their women, yet their women would still come to visit them, maintaining their intimacy. These men were not imprisoned for crimes against women, but for breaking the law through drug trafficking, robbery, and other offenses.

Sinbad thought that if he treated her ruthlessly as well, she would obey his needs and become a typical Oriental wife.

But how wrong he was.

Sibel was and would never be like those women who submitted themselves to men, whether they be husbands, brothers, or even fathers.

Sibel wanted her freedom and she had obtained it, but he had taken it away from her in the cruelest manner possible.

Every torture he inflicted upon her body only broke her soul further.

Her words were prophetic. She had known this because she was born with the gift of insight and she  cast a curse upon him, unknowingly binding them together for eternity.

The people of the Orient believed in their specific religion, but the mysticism surrounding certain individuals like Sibel or Sanem made them bow in reverence.

Another thing he did not know about her was that Sibel could never lie, no matter the cost.

When she was seven years old, she had witnessed a murder and had pointed her finger at her father in front of the judge.

"My father killed that man!" she fearlessly declared, pointing her little finger at her dad. Her family was shocked to hear her speak so boldly, especially after they had told her to keep quiet.

"She is just a child!" their advocate argued.

"No, I am not a child. I saw my dad shoot that man! Dad, tell them I am not lying!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she left her place and wrapped herself around her father's leg.

"You can't lie, even for me, melekım (my angel)!"

"If I lie, my stomach hurts. I feel like I'm dying until I reveal the truth. Don't you want me to live?!" she questioned, pouting her lower lip while resting her head on his knee.

Her father knew this about her. She never lied or hid the truth.

You may ask, rightfully so, whether she had experienced the same stomachache on the night she lied about being kissed by HAKAN.

Yes, she had felt it, but compared to the pain in her ribs, it felt like a mere tickle.

Sinbad's car came to a stop at Hopeless Hill, different from where he had met Hakan the day before.

This hill also had a cliff in front of it, but instead of sunflowers, the field below was made up of rocks. The cliff was also steeper, so sharp that if he hadn't stopped the car at the edge, he would have fallen and sent both himself and the car into oblivion. To his left stood a giant oak tree that appeared older than time itself.

The wind blew through its leaves without making a sound. The majestic oak seemed to dance on its own, as rain poured from the clouds that clashed and lightning created an intimidating symphony.

Sinbad feared nothing as he stepped out of the car, allowing himself to be at the mercy of nature, which mirrored his inner turmoil.

🌹Sinbad🌹

Oh Allah! Where is my hatred towards her now?

Where is the anger I felt when I thought of her?

When I lost myself and became deaf and blind?

Why did You allow me to do all those things?

What do I do with these feelings that are resurfacing in my heart?

Who will believe in my redemption now?

Five days ago, I threw her into Hell. I was her tormentor, her captor, her abuser, her humiliator.

My hand did not tremble when I struck her.

My body did not cease to claim her against her will.

She cursed my happiness.

How foolish she was.

Why?

Can a monster like me be happy one day?

It's true, Esra poisoned my body that night and forced me to betray her, but she was not responsible for all the harm I inflicted upon her subsequently.

"Do you know what needs to be done now?" a voice came from behind me.

"Who are you?"

"Your shattered conscience!" said the voice that I hadn't yet faced.

"Reveal yourself!" I yelled at the specter behind me.

"You need to fulfill her request! Set her free!" the voice yelled as it stood behind me. Slowly, I turned around only to be shocked.

It was like watching myself.

The voice was mine!

"You are just a reflection!"

"Yes, I am the reflection of your shattered conscience! You hurt her, now redeem yourself. Take her life and let that be your punishment, the one you deserve!" he yelled at me.

"Are you crazy?! You want me to kill her, and then what?"

"Live out your punishment!"

"I would rather kill myself!"

"You are not her. You fear the afterlife. She has no fear," the specter spoke softly, mimicking my voice.

"I can't hurt her! Not anymore!"

"You will not! Give her freedom before she takes it herself. You pushed her to her limits."

"No, I will fix her again!"

"You can't fix a broken soul!"

"I will find a way!"

"Kill her! You promised her that if she was innocent, you would kill her!"

"You want me to kill my wife! For what?"

"You made that promise to her!"

"She angered me with that label!"

"But you know you deserved it and more!"

"If you are my so-called conscience, then you should know what she means to me!"

"For her curse to be lifted, I must be happy! Can I ever be happy after everything I have done to my wife, to my heart, to my one true love?!" I yelled, fearing that if I was happy, I would lose her.

"Only time will tell," he/me said and vanished into the tense air.

"I will do what is best for both of us," I said, and with the gun against my head, I prepared to pull the trigger. Just as I was about to, my phone rang.

"We have followed your orders. An hour has passed," the man I had put in charge of tracking them spoke.

"Hunt them down! Show no mercy! But don't touch her! She is mine alone to deal with!" I ordered him.

"We understand, sir!" came the reply before I ended the call. I looked at her photo, which my detective had taken while she was standing alone, gazing at the Eiffel Tower.

"After all, I will grant you your freedom. I promised, didn't I?!" I spoke to her photo. Then, I went home to her.

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