her co-workers yesterday and this morning had added to her stress. She sensed none of them knew what to say to her, or how to articulate their goodbyes. They chose to say nothing in lieu of saying the wrong thing. She understood, but it hurt.
Cahri re-braided her hair and placed a band around the end. After changing clothes, she climbed beneath the down comforter, which matched the color on the walls. She expected to be awakened when the others returned, but needed to lie down. She hadnât slept well since this whole thing began, and she was tired, so very tired.
Closing her eyes, she searched her memory for something happy. The last trip she had taken to the States with her parents came to mind. No responsibilities, no death, no sorrow. Good times and lots of laughter.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun shone through the break in the curtains. She was surprised she hadnât roused when her roommates came in. They still slept, and Stormy lay curled up beside her, purring in his dreams.
What would today be like? She usually planned her Saturdays â laundry, cleaning, the orphanage, and time with friends. No plan equaled boredom, and boredom frustrated her.
A new outfit lay on the chest at the foot of her bed, replacing the one she had taken off the night before. Navy blue with light blue thread. Attractive, but not for her. Not today. Too refined. Too normal. Too expected. She needed something which would shock, and express her current mood.
She ignored the navy set and retrieved the box filled with her things. She chose a pair of black jeans and a long black over-shirt. She brushed her hair, re-braided it, and pinned it up so she could put on her black fedora. After grabbing her notebook, she walked to the common room. A beautiful garden had caught her attention yesterday, and she moved toward the door leading to it. As she opened it, one of the servants rushed to her side and explained she was not yet allowed to go outside. Cahri stared at the girl in disbelief.
Not only was she here against her will, but she couldn't go outside either?
She opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind, nodded to the servant, and stepped away. She tugged a chair close to a nearby window and contented herself to look at the beautiful garden, even though she could not sit among its flowers.
Day 1â
Slept better last night. Woke up at my normal time. Still not talking. Nothing to say.
How can all of these women accept this? It's so unfair. I don't want to be here. Where's God in all this? I hate it here. There's nothing to do. I can't even go outside in the garden. How absurd!
Last night I dreamed of Mom and Dad. We were all in the kitchen. Mom was fixing dinner, telling me about their latest convert. Dad read the paper. His feet propped up on the chair next to mine. When Mom was done with her story, I tickled his feet.
I miss them.
I feel so alone.
She heard a few of the others moving about, so she returned the chair to its place and went to her room.
Food didnât appeal to her, so she ate little at breakfast. Cereal or oatmeal comprised her usual morning meal. Sheâd never had Sucuklu Yumurta because she didnât like eggs, but she tasted the fried eggs with dried Turkish sausage, similar to American pastrami, anyway. Cahri was willing to try anything once, but she had to restrain herself so she didnât spit the bite back out. Nibbling a piece of toast, she rose from her chair. She picked up her plate to put it away, but a servant took it from her hands, bowing just a bit. Cahri stepped back and almost tripped over the chair leg.
â Afedersiniz , â the servant girl murmured. Cahri nodded her acceptance of the apology and moved away.
What was she doing here? How would she spend her time until the classes started on Monday? Two days of nothing to do. She clenched her fists, fighting not to voice her frustration.
She sat on a cushion in the corner and watched the others. Her dad
Cahri re-braided her hair and placed a band around the end. After changing clothes, she climbed beneath the down comforter, which matched the color on the walls. She expected to be awakened when the others returned, but needed to lie down. She hadnât slept well since this whole thing began, and she was tired, so very tired.
Closing her eyes, she searched her memory for something happy. The last trip she had taken to the States with her parents came to mind. No responsibilities, no death, no sorrow. Good times and lots of laughter.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun shone through the break in the curtains. She was surprised she hadnât roused when her roommates came in. They still slept, and Stormy lay curled up beside her, purring in his dreams.
What would today be like? She usually planned her Saturdays â laundry, cleaning, the orphanage, and time with friends. No plan equaled boredom, and boredom frustrated her.
A new outfit lay on the chest at the foot of her bed, replacing the one she had taken off the night before. Navy blue with light blue thread. Attractive, but not for her. Not today. Too refined. Too normal. Too expected. She needed something which would shock, and express her current mood.
She ignored the navy set and retrieved the box filled with her things. She chose a pair of black jeans and a long black over-shirt. She brushed her hair, re-braided it, and pinned it up so she could put on her black fedora. After grabbing her notebook, she walked to the common room. A beautiful garden had caught her attention yesterday, and she moved toward the door leading to it. As she opened it, one of the servants rushed to her side and explained she was not yet allowed to go outside. Cahri stared at the girl in disbelief.
Not only was she here against her will, but she couldn't go outside either?
She opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind, nodded to the servant, and stepped away. She tugged a chair close to a nearby window and contented herself to look at the beautiful garden, even though she could not sit among its flowers.
Day 1â
Slept better last night. Woke up at my normal time. Still not talking. Nothing to say.
How can all of these women accept this? It's so unfair. I don't want to be here. Where's God in all this? I hate it here. There's nothing to do. I can't even go outside in the garden. How absurd!
Last night I dreamed of Mom and Dad. We were all in the kitchen. Mom was fixing dinner, telling me about their latest convert. Dad read the paper. His feet propped up on the chair next to mine. When Mom was done with her story, I tickled his feet.
I miss them.
I feel so alone.
She heard a few of the others moving about, so she returned the chair to its place and went to her room.
Food didnât appeal to her, so she ate little at breakfast. Cereal or oatmeal comprised her usual morning meal. Sheâd never had Sucuklu Yumurta because she didnât like eggs, but she tasted the fried eggs with dried Turkish sausage, similar to American pastrami, anyway. Cahri was willing to try anything once, but she had to restrain herself so she didnât spit the bite back out. Nibbling a piece of toast, she rose from her chair. She picked up her plate to put it away, but a servant took it from her hands, bowing just a bit. Cahri stepped back and almost tripped over the chair leg.
â Afedersiniz , â the servant girl murmured. Cahri nodded her acceptance of the apology and moved away.
What was she doing here? How would she spend her time until the classes started on Monday? Two days of nothing to do. She clenched her fists, fighting not to voice her frustration.
She sat on a cushion in the corner and watched the others. Her dad
Similar Books
