Love Bersemi In Turkey
Not Believing God

I know I always have bad luck. I knew no one would help me when I needed help.

"I'll be back" he said. He then let me go. He looked at me one last time and then went somewhere. I ran towards the house as fast as I could, and entered immediately. I locked the door and then sat limp behind it. I couldn't hold back my legs that felt so limp. My breath gasping.

Should I tell Vian? Thought. What kind of question is that? Of course not! He'll just give me into that guy's hands. Nah!

I'd rather be with Vian than with a scary guy like him. I looked at the sofa and saw Vian lying there with a cigarette between his lips while watching TV.

"I'm going out tonight" he said without raising his head to look at me.

I rolled my eyeballs. Why would he tell me? He shouldn't have bothered to tell me, should he?

"You don't have to tell me" I said as I walked into the bedroom. I really want to take a shower.

Just as I was about to pick up clothes from the closet, Vian came to the room. She looked at me intensely for a moment and I felt uncomfortable. I know he's doing this on purpose to make me uncomfortable.

"You know, you're lucky the doorbell rang earlier" he said, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette between his lips. I don't understand what he means.

"What?" ask me while looking for my gray pants that I'm sure I saw here.

"If he doesn't come ... You know what's gonna happen. You're lucky!" he said while grinning. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, as if he was challenging me.

I took a deep breath and thought about what I should say. I want him to know that I can talk too. I approached him and stood near him. I looked at him and grinned when his bossy expression did not change. I looked confident, but from the inside I felt scared to death. Afraid he'd slap me or anything to hurt me. Such a thing can happen at any time.

"If you're a real man, you'll understand that you shouldn't hit women" I said as I walked away. But of course, he won't let me just walk away.

He immediately responded, "How do you know what a real man is? Your father and brother beat you up all the time. But I forgot, you're the cause."

My ears are hot to hear his words. I can't take it anymore. I turned around and was about to slap him but he caught my hand. “Males can only be slapped once. And I've taken that chance,” he said while holding tightly to my wrist. It hurts so much I can't take it anymore.

"Let go! It hurts!" My peek. He looked at my hand in disdain and immediately let go, as if his touch on me had fouled his arm. It hurt but I ignored it.

"I'm leaving" he said as he left. I took a breath and walked to the bathroom. I dare not look in the mirror, because I do not want my heart to be broken by looking at myself. The moments when I look in the mirror are the times when all my defenses collapse.

I let the hot water flow. It's hotter than it should be but I like it. I felt my body burn, but I didn't care. It feels like punishment to me. It felt as if I was punishing myself for what my family did. But that way it makes me numb. The hot water made my brain freeze and I could never really think as I stood under the hot water that I let flutter me.

***

"Open the door!" he screamed from outside. Oh, it must be Vian, I thought. I can recognize his voice.

I rolled my eyeballs lazily and walked over to open the door. He staggered in. I don't think he's okay. He tried to get in, but he couldn't even walk properly. He hit the door and almost fell. I immediately helped her in and she sat on the sofa.

I then saw his hand holding a bottle of alcohol. He gulped it down and his eyes stared blankly at the wall. His eyes were completely red and his face was a bit swollen. Something's wrong with this guy.

"Don't you know that drinking such a drink is haram?" I ventured to ask. I want to see his reaction to my question.

He laughed while looking at me. He wasn't too drunk but I could see that he had been drinking more than he usually did. His eyes were as cold as ever, no longer surprising to me.

"Who said? I'm not stupid enough to be a Muslim!" he said, sipping the bottle again.

I looked at him in disbelief. My mouth was open to hear his statement. He looked at me and grinned, laughing.

"What's? Don't you believe it? I'm not stupid enough to believe in God. You should think about it now too. But you can't, because you're stupid! Hahaha .. "he said interspersed with laughter.

I ignored the words he just said. I am still devastated by his statement that he is not a Muslim. The statements of people who do not profess their own religion do not surprise me at all because I myself was raised by such a family. But being married to someone who does not profess his own religion is a different matter. Something I never expected at all! I need to know why he doesn't believe me.

"Why? Why don't you believe it?" my question is, using his drunkenness. He grinned again. What's up with him? Smirk? His actions were always very strange and random.

"God left me when I needed him the most" he said.

"That's why I don't believe in that shit!" he added.

I'm getting curious. Things as bad as what had happened that he kindled God for it? Did he really go through so much bad that it became like this? Millions of questions crossed my mind.

"What's going on?" I'm trying to ask.

His expression changed and I could see his eyes darken a little. He's mad! I became restless. I play with my fingers that start to sweat.

I tried to ignore my memories of the past re-emerging, but it was useless. I'm sure that he'll be coming at me soon and acting like they did to me. Then, he would beat me until I almost lost consciousness. That's what they always do. My hand was raised into the air, as if it would protect me, even though I knew that it was completely useless.

“Why should I tell you? You are just a piece of trash that my parents got with money,” he said as if it was normal. He said it without any expression.

He didn't realize that his words really pierced my heart. Even though I know what he said is true, it still hurts a lot. Especially if it's spoken by someone I just met. I held back my tears from falling, while rushing to my room. I don't want to cry in front of him.