Chapter 2: A Voice From the Darkness

In that dark hell where time had lost all meaning, a single thought gnawed at my mind: How much time has passed?
My hope was being crushed and exhausted under the weight of the rubble. Will I be saved? Why is all of this happening to me? My throat was clogged with dust and fear. A drop of water... I yearn for just a single drop. The wound from the rock that had hit my head throbbed, reminding me of its pain with every moment. Mom... Dad... They were gone before my eyes. Then Merve... "Merve!" I whispered, my voice trapped in the wreckage. "Merve!" No answer. Only the echoing silence of my scream. I guess... I guess she's dead too. That thought weighed down on me more heavily than the rubble itself.
---
Outside, it was as if the apocalypse had come. The city was filled with deep wounds that seemed would never heal. Warplanes flew in the sky like heralds of death, raining down bombs upon the city like a downpour. The screams of small children mixed with the moans of injured women and the elderly, the air thick with smoke and despair. Everyone was just trying to survive, not knowing where the next bomb would fall.
Yet, even in the midst of this hell, humanity had not extinguished its light. A few brave individuals defied the impossible, working tirelessly to rescue those trapped beneath the piles of rubble. They tried to gather every child, every injured person they could find, and take them to "safe" places that no longer existed. It was better than doing nothing.
One such group had gathered around the rubble of the building where Kerim was trapped. Among them was a young man named Berat, tall and handsome despite the harsh conditions, with long black hair. He was exhausted from fatigue, but he kept digging through the stones with his hands, shouting in search of a sign of life: "Is anyone alive? If you can hear me, answer!"
---
What was this sound from outside? Was I hallucinating? Was my mind playing tricks on me? But the voice came again, stronger, closer. No! This isn't a dream! A spark of hope, nearly extinguished, flared within me. I have to shout! I have to answer him! But from my throat came nothing but a weak, faint moan.
---
Berat, with his sharp senses, caught that faint moan. "Someone's here!" he shouted and called out to the other rescuers around him. There were no machines; only their faith and determination were their tools. They had undertaken a mission that could bring their own end at any moment, under a shower of missiles. After hours of effort, they finally saw Kerim's pale face from under the rubble.
Kerim had spent nine hours in that dark prison; the wound on his head and dehydration had exhausted him. Without hesitation, Berat lifted him onto his back and started moving away from the wreckage.---
Who is this man? Where is he taking me? My mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. Why is our city like this? Just yesterday, I was playing football with my friends in these streets... Ah, my friends! I hope they are safe.
Just then, another bomb fell nearby with a terrifying noise. The deafening explosion filled me with fear. I involuntarily cried out, "Dad!" I was so scared. "What is this? Why are they doing this?"
---
Berat felt Kerim trembling. He held him tighter and spoke in a calm, reassuring voice: "Hey, kid! Don't be afraid, I'm here. I'm taking you to a safe place." Then, to distract him, he asked with a smile: "What was your name, by the way?"
"Ke-Ke-Kerim..." I stammered, my speech slurred from the pain in my head and the fear.
Berat smiled softly and, playfully mimicking his stutter, said, "Ke-Ke-Kerim? Hahaha, I see. My name is Berat. Nice to meet you, Ke-Ke-Kerim."
Kerim thought to himself: How can this man joke in this terrible situation? But then he understood; this young man was trying to lift his spirits, to pull him out of his fear just as he had pulled him from the heavy rubble. And in that moment, within that laughter, Kerim felt the first seeds of the hope he had lost.