CHAPTER 15: Does pain justify pain?*

*CHAPTER 15: Does Pain Justify Pain? - _Ahmet walked away, disappearing into the wind and the plane tree leaves, leaving behind two branded foreheads still smoking, the smell of burnt flesh that would never leave their clothes, and twelve kids who finally realized the monster was not born, but made. In their own classroom. On their own watch._
_But he didn't go far. He stopped at the university gate, at the threshold where shadow meets sun. He stood there, back to them, shoulders shaking, not from wind, from something else. His burning palm still open, still glowing, but dimmer, like ember dying._
_Buğra was on ground, hands on forehead, not screaming now, whimpering, small, like dog hit by car, smoke curling between fingers. Beyza was over him, trying to touch but scared to touch burn, hands hovering, crying "Buğra, Buğra look at me, please". Her knees bleeding, mixing with his blood on concrete._
_Abdulkadir was different. He didn't whimper. He sat up straight, cross-legged, hands on knees, eyes open, staring at his own shadow. Forehead burn, stitched-mouth devil, still sizzling, but he didn't touch. He accepted, like he always accepted detention, accepted being invisible, accepted being called "quiet kid". Tears falling, but silent._
_ABDULKADIR - whisper, to no one, to ground, to Ahmet's back:_"...I thought... if I stay quiet, I will be safe... if I don't laugh, I won't be guilty... I thought silence is clean..."
_SIMGE knelt next to him, first time anyone knelt to Abdulkadir in 3 years, hand on his shoulder, not scared of seal, not scared of burn._
_SIMGE:_"It's not clean, Abdulkadir. Silence is not clean. But it's not too late. Being quiet is not crime if you speak now."
_Abdulkadir looked at her, blue eyes wet, confused, because no one ever talked to him like that, like human._
_ABDULKADIR:_"Will they... will they kill me now? Like Cenk? Like Haydarcan? Because I have mark?"
_SIMGE - shaking head, holding his hand, tight:_"No. Not if we say stop. Not if we break loop. Your mark is not death sentence. It's memory. It's what we did to you."
_On other side, Ömer stood over Buğra, tall shadow covering him. Ömer, who never liked Buğra because Buğra was bully, now looking at Buğra with pity, because Buğra's devil mark is exactly what Buğra did to Ahmet: clenched fist, long tongue, mocking._
_ÖMER - to Buğra, quiet, so Beyza doesn't hear:_"Does it hurt?"
_BUĞRA - crying, snot, not tough anymore, all tough gone with burn:_"Yes... yes it burns... it burns like hell... like... like I burned him? Is this how he felt? Every day?"
_ÖMER:_"Yes. Every day you tripped him, every day you laughed, this burn. But his was inside, invisible. Yours is outside, visible. Now you know. Now you have choice what to do with burn."
_Beyza heard, looked up at Ömer, eyes red, angry at Ömer's calm, but also understanding that Ömer is only one who doesn't scream._
_AHMET - at gate, still back turned, voice suddenly not monster voice, but 16-year-old Ahmet voice, cracking, tired, like kid after school who waited for bus that never came:_"You know... I wrote your names 12 times... I practiced my handwriting... I wanted it to be fair... because teacher never fair... because life never fair... I wanted at least lottery fair..."
_He turns, half turn, face visible, seal on his own forehead glowing too, but his own seal is different, not devil, not stitched mouth, it's empty, black hole, nothing._
_AHMET:_"Buğra, Abdulkadir... I chose you not because you were worst... I chose you because you were... you were my test. Buğra, you were loud evil. Abdulkadir, you were quiet evil. I wanted to see... if I brand loud and quiet... will class see both evils? Will they understand that both hurt?"
_SIMGE - standing, stepping forward again, second brave step, closer to Ahmet, not scared now, because she sees boy, not monster, boy with burning hand who doesn't know what to do with hand:_
"Ahmet, put your hand down. Your palm is burning you too. Look at your own hand, it's bleeding light. You are hurting yourself to hurt them. That's not justice, that's self-burn."
_Ahmet looks at his own palm, indeed, red cracks going up arm, veins of light, hurting, his own seal burning him from inside._
_AHMET - whisper:_"It hurts... it always hurt... since that corridor... since 1256... since they left me..."
_SIMGE:_"Then stop. You can stop. You don't have to clean filth with more filth. Filth cleans with water, not with fire. You said 'filth must be cleaned'. But you are not cleaner, you are fire. Fire makes more ash."
_Wind stops. Plane tree leaves stop whispering. Absolute silence, as if university holds breath to hear Ahmet's answer._
_Ahmet looks at Buğra and Abdulkadir, two boys on ground, smoking, at Beyza crying over Buğra, at Simge standing, at Ömer watching, at Gizem who is filming? No, Gizem stopped filming, phone down, for first time not recording, watching with eyes not screen._
_AHMET - long pause, 10 seconds, 20 seconds, then small, broken:_"...if I stop now... will you... will you forget me again? Like you forgot me in photo? Like you forgot me on bench? If I stop burning, will I become invisible again? Like Abdulkadir? Is being monster the only way to be seen?"
_This question, not shouted, whispered, hits harder than burn. Simge's tears double, because this is not monster question, this is 15-year-old boy question who ate alone 2 years._
_SIMGE - crying now, walking closer, 2 meters from Ahmet, hand extended, not to hit, to touch cloak:_"No. We won't forget. I will write your name. Not on lottery paper. On my arm. I will remember. We will remember. But you have to stop branding to be remembered. You have to let us remember boy, not monster."
_Ahmet looks at her extended hand, small hand, shaking, but extended towards monster. No one ever extended hand to him, only foot to trip._
_He raises his own burning hand, hesitates, wants to slap, wants to burn her too, because that's easy, because power is easy, because hurting is easy when you were hurt. His palm glows brighter, ready._
_Then... he doesn't. He slowly closes palm, fist, light dimming, sizzling inside fist, hurting himself to not hurt her. He suppresses desire, like Simge said, restraint, human thing._
_AHMET - fist closed, light leaking between fingers, voice small:_"...it hurts more to close... than to slap..."
_SIMGE - nodding, crying:_"I know. That's why it's human. That's why it's hard. That's why we are not monsters yet."
_He turns, walks away again, this time truly away, not theatrical slow, but fast, almost running, because if he stays one second more, he will open fist and burn, because restraint is painful, because being human after being monster is painful._
_He disappears behind plane trees, behind fog that comes again, fog that smells of BIM bags and old school._
_Left behind: two smoking foreheads, one girl kneeling over boy she loves, one boy sitting silent accepting, one girl standing with hand extended still, and smell of burnt flesh mixing with plane tree leaves._
_And on concrete where Ahmet knelt to write names, 12 torn papers still there, but wind blows two away: Buğra and Abdulkadir. The other 10 remain, names facing up, waiting, like future lottery._
_Ömer picks one up, reads: "Simge". Looks at Simge with extended hand still in air, and whispers:_
_ÖMER:_"...next time... it could be you... or me..."
_Simge closes hand, puts on her own heart, as if holding Ahmet's pain there, as if promising to remember._
_END OF CHAPTER 15 - EXTENDED*