Elbette! Metni İngilizcenin doğal akışına uygun, akıcı ve duygusal tonunu koruyacak şekilde çevirdim:
Even though I was sleeping all the time, instead of feeling rested, I felt like a truck had run over me. How long had I been lying in this room? Time still felt to me like that cage—overthinking didn't do me any good, it just clouded my mind. I only vaguely remembered opening my eyes now and then, seeing the doctor at my side. But today, at least compared to other days, I felt better; I had managed to open my eyes and move a little. The doctor must have really added something to the IV that helped me feel stronger. I still needed to gain some weight, because the other side—well, let's just say they had starved themselves as if committing suicide, and it had drained me too.
Thankfully, now the reins were in my hands, and all I needed was a little more time. As my escape plan twisted through my mind like a snake, I looked at the ticket to freedom sitting across from me. This woman was the one who would give me back my freedom.
"You're very quiet today," I said. For a little while, I had to play the part of the grateful, docile girl. Just for a short time. The doctor flinched, lifted her head, and looked at me. She was unusually absent-minded today, and that was dangerous; anything out of my control right now could ruin everything. I was weak, and my ticket out depended on this woman.
"I didn't even notice—I was lost in thought," she said. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had said it all at once. People had this inexplicable need for attention. Even when she could have explained everything at once, she wanted me to care enough to solve her problems. She wanted to see that she mattered to me enough that I'd try to fix her troubles. The truth was, if she weren't useful to me, I wouldn't even look at her. Everything is transactional. No one likes to admit it, but we don't keep people in our lives if they're not useful. We're selfish, even if we won't admit it. Would we keep friends who don't entertain us? Would we try to solve their problems if we couldn't even smile when things are fine? No. If this woman wasn't the key part of my plan, would I care about her? No. I was just playing my role. Like everyone else. I put a look of understanding on my face and tapped the bed twice for her to come closer. Thankfully, this time she understood immediately and got up from the chair to come to me. I held her hand once she sat beside me. A little closeness disarms anyone.
"Something happened, obviously. Maybe you don't trust me, but you helped me even when I couldn't lift my arm. Because of you, I regained my strength. I might not be able to help you in this situation, but I'll listen. You can trust me."
"You can trust me." That's how monsters trick people. It always worked, and it worked now too. The doctor's shoulders slumped, the weight she carried allowing me now to see clearly.
"He called," she said. I didn't need to ask who. Even without hearing the name, all my emotions stirred. They all joined hands, screaming for revenge. My hands itched. A ball of fire started burning between my chest, knowing exactly who it would consume. Yet, I had to play the victim, so I stayed in character. I pulled my hands from hers and waited a moment to compose myself, as if I had been shaken but didn't want it to show. She lifted her head and looked at me. Whatever he had done to Mihri, he was doing the same to this woman. Her eyes were like Mihri's—helpless.
"What did he do to you, doctor?" I asked. She didn't expect it, but the shock in her eyes was exactly what I wanted.
"Are you not going to ask why he called or what we talked about?" she said. She was right; a normal person would ask, but I wasn't normal, I wasn't anyone.
"It's not hard to guess," I said. My sister—or, well, she would be my sister—if she came here, it wasn't hard to guess she knew what was happening. After all, she didn't come because she missed me; she came because the one holding the leash still feared me. That visit was just a message.
"He probably found out I was hitting my head against the walls. I think she watched it live and sent the snake—my sister—to me. I don't care what she said when she called; I care about what he did to you," I continued. The point was that she had to see that what truly mattered was her suffering. Two women split by the same wound, bound to each other by it. I'm not usually this dramatic, but all women are a little like that. She took a deep breath. She was going to give me what I wanted.
"We met when I was living in Bursa with my family. He came at such the right time… I was so vulnerable. I worked at a pastry shop on weekends and went to school during the week. In my second year of university, he came to the shop where I worked. There was something about him that made it impossible not to notice him. He was an ordinary guy, but maybe because he was tall, he caught my attention. I don't know. I was very invisible, maybe I just wanted to be seen. He was cunning as a fox and could sniff out weaknesses like a dog. He noticed my helplessness. I never knew my father; it was just me and my mother in the house inherited from my grandfather. Back then, I thought I didn't need anyone. I had work, school, friends—I had everything—but somewhere inside me, I wanted more. When I first saw him, I saw that woman inside me who wanted more. That woman wanted to be loved. Or at least, that's what I thought then. But looking back, all I wanted was to be seen. I was terrified of dying alone in a corner with no one witnessing it. I wanted someone to witness my life." She paused. The story was always the same. The reasons too. Mihri had wanted the same thing; someone to see her. I placed my hand on her shoulder to give her courage.
"Keep going. There's no difference between us," I said. She took a deep breath and continued.
"All I wanted was to fill that emptiness in my life. I had never been loved like a baby, no one ever cared where I was. Everyone was always certain I wouldn't make mistakes. He gave me what I wanted. He said, even if you make mistakes, I'm here. Living behind a window, I watched life like this, careful of everyone's movements, words, and the consequences. I lived behind a window to avoid mistakes. Knowing it was okay to make mistakes—even if I didn't—made me realize how fearfully I'd been living. Then he came, and the window shattered. With him, thanks to him, I began to live. Can you imagine? For the first time, someone would always be by my side. I felt light as a bird. I could live without fear, boldly, freely. Everything was beautiful at first; I was loved, I loved. He even sent me money so I could work less. I had never felt so wrapped up. Yet I still sensed I had to keep my eyes open. He knew that too. He played his game until I closed my eyes. I introduced him to my mother—then they never got along. My mother yelled and screamed. 'This man is not right for you.' We argued every day for weeks. Maybe he was stubborn too, but I was exhausted. I kept leaving home to be with him. I neglected school, work, everything. My grades dropped, my relationships with friends suffered. He manipulated me so well that it seemed the whole world was against me, only he was on my side. Everyone had seen what kind of person he was; they warned me, but I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want to lose what he gave me. Anyone in his place would have done the same. It was never about him. It was about me and my weaknesses. Everything in my life began spiraling downhill. I was exhausted. Mihri wanted to cling to someone. He was so close, I could see nothing but him. I was losing control of my life, and losing control was driving me insane. So I gave him control. He told me to run away. I had no choice. It felt like I couldn't fix anything. I closed my eyes and held onto him. My mother's words to stay didn't leave my ears. I left her behind, but she only thought of preventing the pain I would go through. Once I closed my eyes, I had found my branch—I couldn't turn back. We came to Istanbul; I left school, of course. We had some savings; he didn't have much, only doing odd jobs, clever at investing. For a while, everything was fine. Then one day he said, 'If we want a family, it can't be with money from the stock market. I should finish university so we have a proper life.' Like any loving woman, I supported him. Once he got into university, everything changed. For a while, it was fine. He got what he wanted, and I was happy for him. But that happiness was short-lived. He started staying away from home, and the man who never raised his voice now insulted and belittled me. The worst part? I was so dependent on him, I couldn't move. I ignored all his abuses, saying he was under pressure, working for our family, but in truth, I was the one working like a dog, managing the house. He had already stopped giving money. I couldn't manage alone, and whenever I brought it up, we had huge fights. He claimed I couldn't have achieved anything without him, that I was ungrateful… and I believed all of it. I despised myself. I had convinced myself I had to be grateful he was still with me. I wasn't happy anymore; all that remained was my obligation to him. Everything had flipped. He had once done everything to keep me under his control; now I did. I had given him everything to the point of abandoning myself. He rarely came home; I still worried. One evening, when he didn't come again, a pang hit me. I didn't know any of his friends, except for a taxi driver boy from the neighborhood. I called him; he had been waiting for my call. He told me everything, explaining he couldn't bear it anymore. Apparently, at school, he presented himself as someone else. There was another girl in his life, a wealthy girl. He went to her birthday today. I asked him to take me there. He took me to a place I'd never have dared to go alone in my life. God had to intervene; when we arrived, he was leaving with friends, arm around a girl, surrounded by people in expensive clothes, cheating on me with my money, deceiving everyone. I watched him from the taxi and called to see what he would do. He glanced at the phone, ignored me, sent me to voicemail. I texted: 'I know everything, come home or I will.' He immediately came. We yelled, fought. I had opened my eyes; I would tell him everything. He couldn't fool that girl like me. That was the first time I saw the monster inside him. He went mad. I remember getting slapped once; the rest is a blur. But he beat me so badly I thought I might die. He might have killed me, but the taxi driver was waiting at the door. Hearing the commotion, he rescued me. Before leaving, he said, and I still remember: 'If you say a word, I'll kill your mother too.' My mother… If I had listened, everything would have been different. I stayed in the hospital; later, the taxi driver took me back to Bursa. When my mother saw me like that, I thought she'd kick me out, but she hugged me tightly. For the first time in years, I realized how exhausted, shattered I was. I was broken in her arms, but she rebuilt me with her care. Back home, I continued to hate myself for a long time. He had exploited me so thoroughly that I couldn't even care for myself. My mother worked hard with me, and my friends helped; I hadn't actually been as broken as I thought. It had all been a lie he wanted me to believe. Four years passed; I thought I had recovered. I was moving on with my life. Then he appeared. I chased him away at first, but he didn't leave. He asked to talk one last time. One last time… You know how stubborn he is; he doesn't stop until he gets what he wants. I agreed; I don't know why, but I agreed. We ate, drank a bit, I got drunk. I remember going to a hotel. The rest is a blur; I woke up naked, he was dressed. Before I could comprehend, he leaned over me and said: 'Everything is mine whenever I want.' I thought I had escaped, but I hadn't; he was still here because he wanted to be. I was terrified… terrified that I would never escape him. Three months of crying fits and panic attacks followed. Again, my mother saved me. I decided to get treatment. On the way to the psychiatrist, I fainted; at the hospital, I learned I was pregnant…" She finally started crying.
"Wait, wait—what?" I said, pulling my hand from her shoulder. Now this bastard had a child too? Did I have to add a child to this equation? I never liked children, especially ones from a relationship where I was cheated on. And this one single-handedly carried the weight of that list.
"It's like a bad joke, isn't it?" She might as well have asked me herself.
"You see, I still couldn't escape him. I told myself I never would. He condemned me to himself forever. I wanted to care less, I couldn't. No matter what he did, I couldn't be like him. My fifteen-month-old daughter—if you saw her, she's so beautiful, so sweet. Just looking at her heals all my wounds without doing anything." She had left that tiny baby to come here.
"I don't understand—why did you agree to be here? You have a baby, you could be far away from all this. You could have finished school… why get involved in this mess again?" I asked, still trying to fill in the gaps in my mind. Was she aware of the child? When had she given birth? Where was the baby?
"I didn't finish school. I haven't even gone back," she said.
"But how… you… you're not a doctor, right?" The bastard had trapped both of us. I thought I was the only captive, but she was trapped here too. So why was I in a cage while she was outside? This wasn't a fair kind of captivity. On top of that, they had been giving me drugs for months—but did she even know what was happening?
"I'm sorry… I… I had no choice," she said. She looked so helpless that if I pushed myself, I might have felt some pity, but there were too many factors I couldn't control, and I had to think quickly without dramatizing.
"All those drugs you gave me—what were they?" At least she knew this part.
"At first, I didn't know. There's a doctor who tells me what to give, and the medicines arrive in a car at the end of each month," she said. A car… that could be useful.
"A car could work for us," I said. She wiped her tears and stayed silent for a while. She couldn't make a decision. She was scared. I had to give her some confidence.
"Look, I know you're scared, but you need to help me. You think he can never be gotten rid of, but if you help me, I'll remove him from all of our lives. If you keep doing what he says, you'll remain his puppet forever. You have a baby—a girl, like you, like me. Are you really going to leave her in that bastard's hands?" I said. She covered her face with her hands, crying. Bringing the baby into it worked perfectly. She was completely out of options. She removed her hands, took a deep breath, and composed herself.
"I knew you… I wanted to warn you, but… I was scared. When I finally tried, I told you everything that had happened, and this time, I wasn't alone. I had to think of my daughter," she said. Even if she had warned me, what would it have changed? On the other side, she had never closed her eyes like him. She wouldn't have listened, and even if she did, nothing would have changed. But I didn't tell her that—I needed a little guilt for myself.
"You have a chance now! Help me! If you help me get out of here, I'll protect your daughter and get everyone away from that man," I said. She was grasping for a lifeline, and this was how I could get her.
"I know. I'll help you, but it won't be easy. Look, this place is very well protected, and I can't do everything freely here," she said. It was bad that she didn't have much authority, but at least she knew everything about the place. Enough to plan—and more than enough.
"So she doesn't need full authority right now. His eyes are on us. Moving is too risky. First, we need a plan. Tell me everything you know about this place," I said. I couldn't act yet. I had to wait until I gathered enough strength. What I needed most right now was information.
"I don't know much. I only did what I was told. There's a lot of security. Even behind the room where you were staying, there was always someone with me. There are men waiting at the doors here, but not right at the door—you weren't meant to see them," she said. They had literally locked me in a cage. Even the possibility of escape haunted my nightmares. I needed more details.
"Of course he wouldn't want me to believe I was alone in that cage. There was no other way," I said. She didn't understand immediately and frowned.
"What do you mean, no other way?" she asked. I looked her in the eyes. Maybe she could see why that man was afraid of me.
"He couldn't have killed me any other way. I could only die if I gave up. He knew that very well," I said. Mihri was stubborn. Hard to defeat, but if she gave up, he would leave. Even being here now didn't mean she had given up—it was just a change of player.
"I'll gather more information, but I have to go now. I don't know how much longer I can keep you here. I'll do my best, but it won't take long," she said. I couldn't go back to that cage. I needed to be outside.
"Keep me here as long as you can. I'll tell you when I need to go in, but until then, I have to stay here," I said. She nodded. As she got up and walked toward the door, she paused hesitantly, then turned back to me.
"When I said he called, you didn't ask what he said. Why?" she asked. I just smiled.
"Because it doesn't matter anymore," I said.