Monday, February 11


I woke up from a deep evilish nightmare, trembling and terrible headache. I can swear that I dont feel my head but I cannot continue to sleep either.. I dont remember those nightmares though but I got scared very much and feeling like crying as one of them broke my heart too bad..
I named the dream "Call of the wild". Because it was very sorrowful in a way and gave me sad but good moral about life.
In my dream I was appointed south east borders of Turkey as an English teacher during war time, I was young around my 18s and I was trying to find a place for myself.. There were Armenian and Kurdish armies walking around the streets and kill or beat whoever they want.. I thought for a while that where the hell I am now? But yeah "hell"  term was exactly good for definition.. Everywhere was red and sparkling, because of blood and flames people were rebellious to set fire, break windows of the homes..And jets and bombs and gunshots.. It was such an undeveloped city that their roads were not even well constructed. Eventually I could reach to the school safe and sound where I am gonna teach but it wasnt even a school but it was like a half collapsed dormitory for old people who need care, such as nursing house. I said: Am i going to teach here? But but ... The principle of the shool didnt even say a single word but pet my shoulder friendly and showed me my room where I am going to stay at school. It was a small room in wreckage at the top of building, paint of the room walls was cracked and fell on the floor, a broken tap that is dripping water constantly, some of the windows were shattered. I said: "Beyza, such a hard life and struggle are waiting for you right over here. It is better you ready yourself and do not expect too much." I thanked the principle but he smashed the door behind him without saying a word.. So I was going to stay here and duty as well at nights to protect school from invader soldiers, rebels and thieves. I was very tired so I lay down on a rusty and smelly bed and fell asleep. The next morning I went downstairs to see my classroom.. I checked many rooms but there were no students except few broken desks... I went in one of them and said "Hello,is there anyone?"
just my voice echoed and after a while I heard chair scratch.. Someone was standing on a desk and buried in books just raised her head and told me: "Are you the new english teacher?" I said: "Yes, my child and I cannot find my class".. That child word made me feel a bit weird and old later but well, the girl jumped out of her desk and ran towards me by singing a childish melody, so I noticed how young she is. Maybe around her 5 and wearing white uniform shirt, dark long haired but a cute little girl who was only my leg length. She held my hand to bring me to the class and disappeared.. I stood still at the door for a while and planned how to spend my first english class then I took a deep breath and went in.. The overall scene of the classroom was heart tearing. Many many poor and filthy students, [I dont scorn anyone by telling these words] some of them were injured, some of them were bruised.. they were only 4 or 5.. So little but all of them came to learn any single thing from me.. They were not like little children but mature adults because they were very conscious of the situation we were in.I kneeled down beside a child and asked some questions and a little boy from the back row just raised and said those by looking into my questioning eyes as if trying to explain: "War, teacher.. It is all because of war. My mom died because of starvation and my dad was killed by Armenian soldiers".. Another child stood up and began to talk as well:" We have no food at home, my mom is cooking the stones that are breakable by teeth --.".. Another one interrupted by saying:" do you see this bandage? A kurdish soldier broke my arm early today while I was on my way to school by saying I dont need education because I will not live longer but he will kill me"..I hugged the little boy.My throat knotted and my tears began to drip...I could only say that: "my child, everything will be alright, everything"... Even this sentence was not enough convincing for me to believe, so how would a child believe in my fake words but I couldnt help shedding tears because my heart was thorn apart in sorrow by the things those little children told, what was their fault?? They were nothing evil but innocent little kids who are the victims of war. So I devoted myself to teach them not only english but about life.. I also helped them as much as I can by spending my whole salary.. At the end of the year they became very brilliant students besides we really loved mutually, they were thirsty for learning so I had to learn more than they do to transfer them..Following day during class the door was smashed, few soldiers went in and fired their guns.. I cried out so loud: "Noooooooo"... They shot all of my students :'( I ran from one to another but all of them, yeah all of them were killed.. Then I recognized someone familiar among the soldiers... The shool principle.. He was one of them.. He was one of those tyrant blood shedding soldiers.. I was handcuffed and he said: "Miss K. You are under arrest for high treason"... Then I woke up.. I was very influenced because It was very sad dream that still makes me feel like crying while I am writing these right now...

REST IN PEACE brave, immortal, world soldiers and martyrs..