CHAPTER ONE

Freedom - BAHAR -2014

Near the historical Sirkeci train station, and under the cold sky of New Year’s Eve, colorful fireworks brightened up the swarming city of Istanbul in celebration of a new beginning. In exchange for warm hugs and friendly kisses, with best desires at heart, the countdown began.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!”

Everyone shouted at once, declaring the end of a whole year as they welcomed in another. Within the festive atmosphere, I felt the slow-moving traffic closing in on me. I turned around, seeking a fresher breath, only to have found my fiancé, Orhan Mirza, stealing away my special moment. His cold lips were slowly approaching mine in a predictable attempt to kiss me at midnight, but deep within my heart the impulse of pulling back from our arranged relationship drove me to take off without a notice.

To me, the subject of marriage is a serious term of faithful guardianship and endless love, bound into a long commitment between two individuals who vow to devote their lives to one another, nonetheless their undying souls, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do them part. Though not everyone’s perspective is as clear on such meaningful binding, spiritually or physically speaking, which is often taken for granted when seeking a benefit other than true love especially in the event of an arranged marriage.

Coming from the Yilmaz family of wealth and power, raised by my father, Fikret, whose only occupation was to inherit privilege and unquestionable authority, pushed me straight into the arms of a coordinated marriage, which I was determined to resist until the end. Though growing up in such a rigorous environment, I was not equipped with absolute knowledge or courage to go against my family’s living will. While knowing that either choice I was to make would bring its own consequences, and perhaps draw the fine line of my destiny, I never intended to give up. Despite all odds, I trusted my natural instinct and its whispering voice to empower me with rays of hope upon my darkest of moments.

“Bahar? Bahar?…Please wait!” Orhan’s loud voice rang in my ears while I ran against the passing crowd as fast as I could. I turned my head around for a second to locate his missing shadow, when I crashed into my Prince Charming for the first time. He was standing by the corner lot, overlooking the bright sky.

“Are you blind?!” I yelled with anger. His drink in hand spilled all over me, showering me with a sweet after-smell.

“I am so sorry, miss. I didn’t see you coming this way. You appeared out of nowhere,” the handsome man immediately apologized. His dark-colored eyes spoke a whispering language of flirtation as I stared at him, questioning my own attitude. Frankly, I was more angry with myself that night than I was with him, before lashing out with no warning. Feeling the heat of embarrassment taking over my unspoken words, I disappeared into the dark night, searching for a secret world to hide inside its walls forever. Instead, I found myself trapped within a fancy vase of my family’s home of Ottoman legacy, wrapped up in a cycle of endless traditions and meaningless principles.

Since forever, I’ve lived surrounded by a universe of seclusion, as a single rose of wild dreams captured in a prison of golden cage, where colors of liberty were fading and thorns of survival were incapable of reaching out. Nothing was ever about me, nor was it for me to decide. From the moment I witnessed the light of day, I was born to be taken care of. My name was chosen on my behalf, in the same order that I was taught to speak and walk, to dress and act. Not for once had I the freedom of choosing my own way, and soon enough I was about to give everything up, only to surrender my life into the hands of a marriage I hated to tears. 

I was torn between a commitment of convenience to some, and my own desire to break free and follow my heart to wherever it was to lead me.

Into the music room I stormed, seeking comfort and the soothing sounds of my piano, which had spoken softly to my soul ever since I was a kid. Music was the only freedom that I was not forbidden from adopting under my father’s strict roof; rather, it was my only way to voice aloud my deeper thoughts and feelings.

Another sleepless night went by, before I woke up to the coolest day of January. As I looked out my balcony overlooking the spacious land that surrounded our castle, I overheard the wind howling from every chilly nook while the foghorn was passing through the naked trees of Mother Nature. The time had passed out of sight, and it was my wedding day at last. Not only I, the bride to be, got to wear a white gown in celebration of my new journey, but nature had a unique pearly layer of its own: snow sprinkled all around.

A few hours into the morning, the peace of our residence was broken up forever when the many guests of honor showed up to congratulate me all at once and celebrate the supposedly happiest day of my life. Meanwhile, I was still locked up inside my cozy chamber, applying the finishing touches to my perfectly white wardrobe, with a traditional red ribbon of respect and honor surrounding my petite waist. I looked at myself in the glossy mirror, unable to recognize my happy reflection, when the loud voices of regret began to haunt my mind and soul, urging me to take one last action. Even my heart was pacing so rapidly, alerting me of an upcoming danger.

“You can do this, Bahar…you can do this,” I whispered to myself in the mirror. I was disappointed beyond explanation for losing to achieve my freedom. “There is no going back. This is it…the moment of truth.” I swallowed my thoughts in pain when a sharp knock on my door stopped my series of reasoning from rolling.

“Bahar? Are you ready, dear? It’s almost time!” Mother Leila shouted from behind the locked door, inviting me and my soul to surrender.

“Yes, Mother! I’ll be out in a minute!” I yelled back, feeling the breath of suffocation. My hands were sweating with an unusual heat, while my face felt as cold as an iceberg. Afraid to make a single move closer to the path of miserable promises, I raced in the opposite direction and toward

the balcony of fresh air, where I encountered the handsome man of New Year’s Eve, hiding out in the shadows.

“You?!” I gasped with shock. In a flash, my blood pressure rose to its breaking point, and my heart went into sudden death. The impact of the surprise stole my voice and thoughts away, and perhaps my fear, for once.

“Don’t be scared. I am not here to hurt you. I promise,” he whispered with a careful voice, looking twice around his shoulders. Somehow, he climbed up the one-floor balcony, leading his way up into my private suite. Conveniently for him, directly below us was the music room, which was vacant at the time. Even my father’s bodyguards were nowhere near the scene.

“Bahar?! What’s taking you so long? Orhan is waiting for you downstairs,” my mother shouted again, reminding me of my so-called responsibility of attendance. She was unhappy with my carelessness. I could tell by the impatient tone of her voice. But before I could speak back, I was stopped by the intruder.

“Shush….” His facial lines and eyebrows lifted up while holding his hand up against my mouth, stopping me from speaking or possibly screaming my head off, when I saw he was in possession of a loaded weapon. His body felt cold against my feverish lips, but a closer look into his mysterious eyes broke the tension between us. He then released his hand, letting me go, perhaps fearful of raising any suspicions.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” I shouted back with frustration, while thinking of how to best handle the sudden events. Though I was so tempted to expose the stranger in my room for the burglar that he appeared to be, I was more eager to save myself from marrying Orhan. Maybe on some vague level, the so-called stranger was the true hero of every princess’s dream, who heard my prayers and had come to my rescue. “I cannot go along with this wedding you have to help me get out of here!” I announced in panic mode, leaving him to entangle his eyebrows together.

“What?!” His eyes opened widely, looking at me up and down with confusion.

“Yes…you heard me right. Let’s go!”

“Wait a minute. I don’t understand…”

“There’s no time for an explanation!” I demanded. “You broke your way into my bedroom and for that I can have you arrested, but instead I am giving you a chance to save yourself.” With all honesty, I was the one desperate to retain my freedom, not knowing whether he was in fact a person to be trusted or not, but in the heat of the moment I was willing to take all risks despite any outcome. “No one will ever know that you were here,” I promised looking closely into his eyes searching my way out, while watching the clock of independence tick faster than ever before.

“Fine, but we have to hurry…,” he agreed with a look of hesitation. He then turned around to check our surrounding for a clear escape as I followed his footsteps holding my wedding gown off the floor. Quickly, he reached his robust arm to help me dangle down the balcony with his rope of adventure hanging off the edge, pulling us into a close-call scene. 

The awkward moment was not only physically intense but emotionally too. Together we took off running through the back wooded area as far away from the wedding site as possible, leaving behind a whole lot of disappointed people. Not to mention, a heartbroken groom. 

Soon after that unplanned escapade of mine, the night caved in. Even the weather was changing as the temperature dropped behind the fallen sunset. Meanwhile, I was in my wedding gown jumping the hoops of wet snow and abandoned tree branches, rather than on my planned honeymoon. We ran our long distance far enough from the mansion before we ended up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the lonely forest and its unpredictable ending.

“How far still? I am getting tired,” I complained out loud, breaking the silence of our journey in which he remained quiet throughout, avoiding a single eye contact. Beneath his calm looks, I sensed a dusky anger ready to erupt at any minute, but his unresponsive attitude pushed me to speak even louder. “Did you not hear what I just said?” I stopped walking at once in hopes of capturing his full attention. Though I was always kind and polite, for the first time in my life I used my attitude as a sharp weapon to protect myself in the presence of a total stranger; therefore I was completely on my own.

“Yes. I did!” he replied with a whiny voice, while searching his jacket for something rather more important than our conversation.

“What’s wrong? What are you looking for?” I wondered, watching him panic.

“I lost my cell phone. I might have dropped it someplace. Damn it!” Clearly, he was upset and, in an obvious way, blaming me for everything bad that was happening at the moment.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry! I saved you from going to jail, and this is how you repay me? Your attitude is just unbelievable!” I shook my head with disappointment. Although his well-maintained appearance did not exactly expose his criminal side, looks were often deceiving. I learned to believe that and I was often right.

“Who said that I was going to jail?” he replied with certainty, proud of himself for whatever reason. “I am the one who did you a favor. In case you forgot.”

“Is that so? What about breaking into and entering my home? That’s a felony in case you didn’t know.”

“Believe me. It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not? Then what were you doing, hiding outside my balcony? How do you explain that?” I questioned with curiosity, retaining my distance from him, somewhat afraid of his confession, which took him a minute or two to disclose. “Whatever you were planning to steal, I promise I’d pay you triple its value.”

“Hold that thought, missy.” He smiled with an attitude. “For your information, I am not a thief!” he claimed, by flashing his shiny badge at me without a notice. “I am an undercover police officer working on an important case, yet clearly, I was given the wrong information, which landed me in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He was so eager to defend himself by pointing the accusatory finger back at me.

“Oh!” I rolled my eyes with shame, only for him to ignore my reaction and give me the silent treatment. He continued to walk away. With no proper words of apology, I remained quiet, following his lead when we encountered a tiny cabin in the middle of the woods. The wooden cottage appeared to be neglected. Together, we approached the private property for a closer look inside the glass window and a quick peek of examination.

“Perhaps we should stay here for the night, and tomorrow morning we’ll each go our separate ways,” he decided loudly and obviously while reaching to pick the cabin’s locked door open. “The place is cold. I’ll get the fire started.” He was strong-willed and serious with me, allowing me no chance to apologize. A part of me was a little scared, yet I was secretly enjoying the wild adventure that got me to step out of my comfort zone for a change.

Although our found location was in a poor condition in comparison to the luxurious environment I was born to indulge myself for endless times, I was somewhat lucky for having a solid roof over my head to keep me safe on my first runaway night. Inside the lonely chamber, we found an old couch and a broken chair surrounding a brick fireplace in one corner, and a large cabinet in the other, loaded with torn sheets and wool blankets. While he kept himself busy by the fireplace, setting up the logs he brought from outside, I settled on the couch and curled up in a ball, trying to get comfortable.

Once the burning fire kicked in, I sat nearby, overlooking the evaporative heat in an attempt to dry off my soaking-wet wardrobe. A weird coldness ran down the back of my spine, leaving me feverish. I was trying my best to control my teeth from clicking against each other. I reached for an extra blanket, only to increase my chills to a maximum level, sneezing my head off with a winter cold I did not see coming.

“Are you okay?” He turned his head my way to check on me, while seated on the floor near the burning fire.

“Yes. I’m fine…though this might be my first night without a meal. I’ll be alright,” I joked hoping to change the miserable mood that seemed to wrap around him like a dark cloud.

“Sorry. There is no food around here. I already checked the cabinet for canned goods, but there’s nothing but bottles of water.”

“That’s okay.” I smiled, and he said nothing. “Look, I am very sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you. I never planned for any of this to happen. Suddenly, everything went out of my control.” Regardless of the crazy move I’d taken to remain a free woman, unrestricted of a commitment set in motion by others, I never meant to drag an innocent person into my ongoing dilemma. Sadly for him, he showed up at the right place and the right time, where I found myself taking advantage of his accidental presence.

“I am not angry with you because of what happened, and I apologize if I appeared to be. To some extent, I can understand your impulsive reaction to such a life-changing commitment. Although not everything we plan in life works the way we wish, either. Take, for example, my gone wrong investigation of the day.” He smiled for once, revealing a warm charisma behind his manly looks. His smile was a one-of-a-kind magnet, and I failed to resist its power.

“True. But still, I feel responsible for ruining your day.”

“It happens. Yet, I am wondering what made you take off in such a hurry, leaving your future groom behind? I am sure he’s worried sick about you right now, let alone your parents.” His eyes were wandering my way for a second round, searching for a reasonable explanation.

“Believe me, my engagement to Orhan is nothing but a silly joke put together by my father, Fikret. He’s a man of authority, and his ongoing domination has pushed me over the edge this time. Even though my mother was never in agreement with this marriage, she was not allowed to voice her opinion, either. But, as of this moment, I will no longer allow anyone to lead my life for me. I am sick and tired of living everyone else’s way.” I sneezed. My eyes turned watery.

“God bless you.”

“Thank you.”

“I agree with you. Each person is bound to walk their own destiny. No one should be in control but the person of choice.” He turned away to adjust the burning wood, only to wonder about a realistic question that I myself was unable to answer yet. “What will happen now? You can’t run forever.”

“I will if I have to.” I took a deep breath. “I have no choice but to face the consequences of my own actions, whatever those might be. One way or another, I will find a way to start fresh.” Just as I was starting to warm up, my eyes turned heavy with a sudden headache.

“Good luck. You are going to need it.” “Thank you, and also for saving my life,” I happily said, while observing his unique silence. As stubborn as he first appeared to be, his ambiguous personality was somewhat charming, revealing a dangerous side, which perhaps was what drew me to him even more. Beneath my feminine character, I had an adventurous soul both impulsive and sensitive, a genetic inheritance from my father’s side of the family that I was secretly proud of, and often hesitant to unleash to the world.

“You are welcome.”

Throughout the night, I spent endless hours floundering in my sleep. Dreams of nonsense were dominating my peaceful evening and taking control of my visionary life. Even the buried sound of my heart pumping with survival was breaking up at times, when I woke up without a breath, struggling to pull through. Perhaps I was hallucinating a living nightmare or even a bizarre curse that took over my soul all at once.

The following morning, the gleaming sun was up early, while every living organism was frozen within the breathtaking backdrop of nature. I woke up feeling a lot rested and liberated from my past. Inside the enclosed space, I found the handsome detective asleep on the floor. His protective weapon and badge were close by his side. The burning fire had died out completely, leaving the cold to circulate throughout the room. The second I reached to cover him up with an additional blanket, he turned around, waking up at once.

“Good morning.” I smiled.

“Good morning.” He got up immediately, and reached to secure his gun behind his belt. “It’s late. We have to get going.” Though it was only seven o’clock in the morning, he was in a hurry to resume his life, and, frankly, so was I. “Last night was so quiet outside, I could hear the highway traffic from all the way here, which means that we are very close to the main road.”

“That’s good,” I replied, watching him stretch out his neck after the uncomfortable night he spent on the floor rug. “I have to get to the bus station,” I announced with a new plan in mind. There was no way I was going back home after what happened. Not a chance.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“I am going to see someone so special, whom I’ve missed so dearly,” I happily said, preparing myself for a better beginning. With no further discussion, we departed on foot in search of the closest exit.

While crossing a new track of life with a complete stranger, I unlocked a fearless spirit behind his character. He was alert to any possible sign of danger, making me feel so safe. Though he was a man of few words, his dreamy eyes of golden honey told a warm story, as if I had known him forever even though we had just met. Sometime later, we reached the finish line. Hand in hand, we crossed the main road together, where the passing traffic was flying by non-stop and it was time for us to say goodbye.

“This is it. This is where I go from here,” I declared with excitement, getting ready for a whole new battle, the battle of the real world, which I felt like diving into for the first time. “Thanks for your help and my apology again for the trouble I have caused you.”

“No problem…Take care of yourself, and good luck with everything.” He smiled.

“Thank you. You, too.” I smiled back with relief. Just then, he offered to shake hands, when a bright yellow cab pulled to the side of the road to pick me up.

While on my way to my faraway destination, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving my family, especially my mother, in fear while anticipating news of my safe return. I was never away from her or home, yet there was a first time for everything. On the other hand, going back to where I started was without a doubt my death sentence. I had no choice but to break off my engagement once and for all, for I was tired of playing such game. My only wish was to stand on my own feet and start an independent life, determined to fight my battles my own way and without getting pulled back into our family drama like every other time. 

Just before we hit our destination, I stopped by a random jeweler and made myself a quick profit by selling off my diamond ring. I wanted nothing to remind me of Orhan or my almost commitment. Next in line was a new outfit. What a relief that was to ditch my wedding gown and its heavy burden and leave town with a brand-new identity.

Upon arriving at the bus station, I reserved the last available seat on the next departing bus to Izmir, where my dear grandmother Karime Yilmaz lived all alone. For all the years that we’ve exchanged secret letters, I memorized her address by heart. Though we’d never met before, her past relationship with my mother was the key connection between us. I learned of her loving heart and caring soul from all the bedtime stories my mother told me when I was a kid.

Long ago, my grandmother and father got into a wicked argument, and she was banished. No one cared to tell me the nature of their debate, not even a single hint, and so I assumed that it was something big and rather unforgivable. But on whose behalf? I never knew the reason, nor was I allowed to question it.

After being on the road for nearly eight hours, I finally arrived at the west coast of the ancient city of Izmir. Surrounded by the calm waves of the Mediterranean sea, I took the first cab I saw straight to the humble neighborhood of my lost family member. It was already evening time. Crowded and tiny streets were the focal point of attraction. Local shops were nothing more than set-up tents in the middle of the road, fighting with one another to sell out their goods, while children of various ages were gathered to play a fun game of soccer.

Locating the vacant house of my grandmother was the easiest task, while learning of her recent passing was the hardest to grasp. After breaking free from the wealthy prison I was born to live in for decades, I came so close to meeting her yet alone to learn that her living soul was long gone. It was about a month ago when she got ill with severe pneumonia and died at the age of sixty-eight. She was still young and beautiful. Our reunion was never meant to be.

Entering a home of unresolved history was one of the most painful things that I had done that night. My grandmother’s earthy fragrance was still intact within the cozy atmosphere. The more closely I walked into her bedroom, the closer I felt her floating spirit whispering from every corner, while in reality I was alone, all over again. Near her bedside, I found a wooden box of old letters stacked with silky ribbons of different colors. She sure had a unique style of organizing her thoughts.

No sooner had I sat down to rest my tired body and leaned my head against what used to be her fluffy pillow that my savior’s face appeared before me, bringing me back to a scene of spark and a mutual liking between us. Somehow, my mind was blocking out my recent loss, replacing my moment of grief with another. I smiled to myself, sensing the irony rather than the crazy coincidence of our meeting that led me to where I ended up. I was solo in an unfamiliar place, trying to identify the roots of my existence, but the one crucial piece of the puzzle was forever gone. I had nothing left to go on but countless memoirs scattered all over the pages of faded lines.

The next day, I departed the house in search of the nearby cemetery where the remains of my grandmother were recently buried. Her graveyard was as simple as her lifestyle, sprinkled with dried-up roses left and right. As expected, many people attended her funeral as she was well loved by her neighbors, but, sadly, non of her family was there to say goodbye. I wished I was, yet at the same time I wished more so that she was still alive and well. I needed to tuck myself into her arms and tell her how much I loved her, nonetheless how much I needed her by my side. My dream of reunion was quickly shot to death, and so I had no reason to stay beyond that day.

Going back to Istanbul was the one and only written path for me after all, as I gathered some of my grandmother’s leftover belongings in a single suitcase and left. I was obligated to inform my mother of the sad news and in person, but as soon as I arrived I was saddened by another truth I forgot existed. What were the chances of being banished myself the way my grandmother was before me? The cruel possibility did not cross my consideration, yet ironically it was more realistic than I thought.

Standing outside the gated castle with restricted permission, not allowing me anywhere near the property, was my first and official wake-up call to my father’s emotional abuse. Though he was always in control, and having lived under his protective roof for years, I underestimated his love of power.

Looking through the metal gaps of the forbidden paradise, I saw my mother, standing outside my balcony, pleading with my father on my behalf. Her maternal instinct was stronger than to watch me pay the ultimate price of abandonment and deprivation. She didn’t seem to care what the world thought of the situation, all she wanted was for him to forgive me and allow me back into their lives, while I stood there in silence watching the drama of my life play out. I wasn’t even trying to defend myself, as if I had done no wrong.

“Don’t do it, Fikret! Please, don’t!” she yelled, when all of a sudden, all beautiful memories of my childhood were shattered by a single flame setting my musical love on fire. I saw my wooden piano blazing with rage right before my eyes. The one harmonic box, which held all my secrets between its black and white keys, was more than a material property; it was my spoken voice. The very voice I failed for years to release from its on prison.

“No!” I screamed out loud, unleashing my inner pain for everyone to take note of. My tears remained trapped behind the angry scene of injustice. What had I ever done to deserve so much pain and punishment? What kind of a father was mine to destroy my life? Just because I refused to marry a man I never loved? I couldn’t excuse his violent behavior anymore, yet sadly I was on the opposite side of the sailing ship, incapable of saving my mother from her cursed luck of marriage, nor her selfish husband who loved his power way more than he ever loved his own family.

After being dragged away from every link that connected me to everyone I knew and loved, I found myself at peace while cruising the Bosphorus shore, where the waves of freedom were folding so beautifully without the promise of forever binding. With no place to go nor a second plan in mind, I sat along the oceanside, browsing through my grandmother’s letters in hopes of finding a buried treasure or perhaps a curious lead to purse, rather than living without a purpose. 

Then, out of the blue, I came across the contact information of a local attorney named Iskender Gocer written on the back of a random letter.

Without thinking twice, I rushed through the city’s crowded traffic in search of the vague connection between the attorney and my deceased grandmother. Thankfully, I got to the law office just before the end of its business hours. Iskender was about to leave for the day, but a brief introduction between us changed his plans altogether. As it turned out, he had been in close contact with my grandmother for years, therefore he already knew of her passing. In fact, he was in Izmir the day of the funeral.

Iskender appeared to be close in age to my father. He was a long-term defense attorney who knew both my grandparents from ages ago, back when he was living in Izmir. In addition, he was my uncle Hakan’s legal advisor, running his investments for him while he lived in Paris. Apparently, my uncle was planning to move back to Istanbul in a few months, but of course I knew nothing about him either, since he, too, was not in contact with my family.

Considering the unfortunate circumstances that led me to meet Iskender, he welcomed me with open arms and offered to help me both legally and financially, for which I was very grateful. Though I did not plan to become a burden on anyone, I had no other option but to accept his generosity. He and his wife, Almas Gocer had just relocated to a new house in Bebek, and they were still in the process of moving in when I showed up in their lives.

Soon, I regained my freedom, seeking my own mission to liberate the musical world of mine with a great opportunity to show my respect and gratefulness to the family who took me in, when I joined the Gocer Educational Foundation of Istanbul, a nonprofit public charity dedicated to educating needy children in Turkey. Over the past decade, the organization had a major success and a sincere mission to help children have a stable and a normal life within its educational environment, and so I decided to become a volunteer and help their genuine cause.

Almas Gocer was the founder of the organization. A noble woman in her late forties, with a beautiful smile and a welcoming personality, greeted me upon my joining. I was proud at last for choosing a trail of vitality to walk solo, yet with a great motivation and a true purpose. I was very lucky to have had the comfortable lifestyle of mine, but not everyone was as fortunate. My goal was to be as generous with others in need as I could possibly be, and to not take anything for granted ever again. Even the simple things that might not have mattered so much to me were worth a fortune to others.

The first week at the foundation was a beautiful dream come true for me. My teaching journey was a new experience yet a valuable lesson that taught me so much about myself and my students. Children of different ages and backgrounds were delighted to learn how to play the piano and eventually master their musical path of creativity and art. 

While I was getting used to being on my own, I also missed my mother. We hadn’t spoken since the day of the wedding, and the temptation to pick up the phone and call her was so hard to resist. I was afraid to put her in a difficult position with my father if he knew of our contact, so I had to remain invisible for the safety of both of us. I left the sensitive matter in Iskender’s hands, for he was our safest way of communication.

By the end of my teaching week, the annual charity event of the foundation was hosted at one of Istanbul’s finest hotels by its notable founders, Mrs. Almas and her husband, Iskender. Inside the main lobby I walked, with classical music playing in the background, entertaining the wealthy crowd whose generous donations were about to pour in one after another. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted my mystery hero walking out of the shadows, resembling a real prince lost in a fairytale, perhaps in search of his dream princess.

While standing in the middle of the ballroom in my bright red dress, exchanging a friendly conversation with Mrs. Gocer and her fellow volunteers, I could feel the stranger’s eyes following my single move. My heartbeats were racing out of control and completely under his magic spell before my eyes strolled his way, locking in a single yet powerful glimpse.

“Oh my God! He’s here….” I thought to myself, while smiling and trying to stay focused on the conversation at hand. Suddenly, I felt a weird heatwave taking over my entire body before I distanced myself from the crowd.

An unplanned runaway landed me out on the spacious terrace, where a cold breeze passed by me and through the darkness of the night, while the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath and allowing myself to dance with the wind, when I shivered from the warmth of my feelings. I felt every emotion within my heart intensely tingling. I turned around to find him watching over me from a nearby distance. 

The moment was stopped for the music of love to push us closer into each other’s arms, unable to control the attraction between us. Though I had sensed the unique charisma from day one, I didn’t think it was ever to turn real. Under the moonlight we danced, while dreaming within each other’s eyes, as if we were the only two people left in the whole world, leading my heart to sing its own melody of love. 

Once the music came to a complete stop, our eyes locked in position, and I didn’t move a muscle when my lips shivered with a cold sensation. Meanwhile, his gentle touch warmed up my cheek, leaving a rosy glow behind its soothing contact. Soon enough, our lips took control of our excitement, progressing into our first passionate kiss. All at once, I pulled myself out of the heated moment, realizing the impulsive move I’ve drove myself into once again. I raised my arm, slapping him over the cheek.

“How dare you!” I claimed innocence, failing to control my heart from pounding any faster.

“Really? As if you didn’t want me to kiss you?” he replied with confidence, looking straight into my eyes and confronting me with the one and only truth, which I wished to deny.

“Of course not!” I continued to ignore my emotional desire and my physical attraction to his powerful character. “You saved me once, and you think you could just walk your way back into my

life, dance with me, and then kiss me?”

“Not exactly… I didn’t think I’d see you again after that day in the woods. Although I never stopped thinking about you.” He smiled, leaving me to wonder of his true motives. Perhaps his intention was as genuine as mine.

“Really?” I smiled back tilting my head in a question. His confession caught me by surprise, rather a dream come true.

“Yes. How can I not?” I looked away, hoping not to have my heart broken or disappointed by the man of my wild visions. Just then, Mrs. Almas came walking out looking for me, only to introduce the man of mystery as her son, Kenan Gocer a twist of events I was not anticipating, yet an amusing coincidence that led Kenan and me to meet again and again.

Liberty is not defined by the physical ability to break free of wicked obstacles or metal chains. True freedom comes from the will of expressing one’s mind, thoughts and feelings. To be able to speak your opinion without fear of judgment or punishment, to spell out your emotions without restrictions and with passion that comes from the heart without expectation.

To be independent is a grace everyone in the world should be given and not to be taken for granted; therefore, we should fully understand the responsibility that comes with such freedom. To think twice before taking a step closer or perhaps a step back will without a doubt prevent us from making the wrong choices that might cost us our independence forever.