THE MAN WHO BROUGHT SPRING TO MY HEART

The drums were beating. The zurnas cried out into the night. People laughed, danced, and happily enjoyed the food being served. Joy filled the courtyard like a festival. In short… everyone was happy. Everyone except me. Especially my father. He drank and laughed with the satisfaction of a man who had just made a great deal. Selling his own daughter had filled him with a strange pride. He smiled at people, joked with them—perhaps more than he had ever smiled in his entire life. And me? What was my crime? What sin had I committed to deserve this? Was it my fate to be sold to a man older than me before I had even turned eighteen? A man who had barely a shred of humanity left in him. A twisted, useless man. But he had money. He had power. He had influence. And because of that, everyone bowed their heads before him. So this was life. This was the destiny written for me. Was I supposed to accept it without fighting? Without begging? Without even trying to escape? To live as the second wife of a man in his thirties who didn’t know the meaning of kindness? Before I even reached my mid-twenties, I would probably have three children. During the day, I would work in the fields, vineyards, and gardens. And at night… I would be expected to please the man they called my “husband.” I would serve his parents like a slave. And worse… I would probably end up serving his first wife as well—the woman he had already beaten half to death. Was this really my fate? My youth… My life… My body… My womanhood…