Here is the English translation of your text:
My name is Derya, I am 19 years old, and I study architecture. Today, I opened my eyes to a new day once again. When I tried to stand up, the sharp pains in my back stopped me. Yesterday, my father came home drunk and beat me. In my 19 years of life, I have been subjected to violence for 11 years. I lost my mother 11 years ago, and as you can tell, my father sees me as a scapegoat. I am so tired now.
I picked up my phone and checked the notifications. There were 50 missed messages and 10 missed calls from Alp; something must have happened. At the same time, there were 10 missed calls and 4 consecutive photos sent by Merve.
Yes, I had been cheated on. That's why Alp had written more messages than he had in two years. My eyes filled with tears, and I began to tremble. I immediately called Merve. She didn't answer, so I blocked Alp right away and rushed into the bathroom.
This is what it felt like to be deceived and betrayed. Alp and Merve were distant relatives, and the photos sent to me were taken at their place, showing Alp in bed with her. Once again, tears, pain, hopelessness, and solitude. I had loved him so much-until I saw those photos. I was broken once again, but I had to go to class.
I got dressed, quietly left the house without letting my father see me, and started walking toward the university. It was only a 5-minute distance from my home.
While I was crossing the street, a little girl suddenly darted onto the road, and a car was approaching. She froze in place out of fear. I immediately ran and pulled her out of the road before the car could hit her. I ran and grabbed her so fast that we both tumbled to the ground together.
The little girl was in my arms, and thankfully, she wasn't hurt. I sat up quickly and hugged her. She wrapped her tiny hands around my neck; her heart was beating so fast. I kissed her hair, stood up, and sat on a nearby bench. She was still in my lap, hands wrapped around my neck, crying.
Suddenly, a tall, imposing man appeared above us. I raised my head and looked at him. He looked at me with angry eyes. He was so furious; judging by the swollen veins on his forehead and hands, his clenched fists, and his furrowed brows, he looked as if he wanted to kill me. He was squeezing my arm with such force that it felt as though he had his hands around my throat, choking me. After glaring at me furiously, he finally spoke:
* "Let go of my daughter! Zeynep!"
The little girl trembling in my lap looked behind her and began to cry even harder.
* "Daddy, daddy!"
she said, reaching her arms out toward the man. The man immediately took the little girl he called Zeynep from my lap in a rush and began comforting her.
* "Don't cry, my little one; don't cry, my angel. I'm here, don't be afraid, sweetheart."
* "What is our daughter doing in your lap!?" he asked in a harsh, angry voice.
* "Well, she jumped in front of a car; I barely saved her!"
I said in a trembling voice. The girl was so beautiful. She looked like a tiny, fearful butterfly-pretty, innocent, and pure. She possessed a pure beauty, as if a heavenly light had shone upon her face. I quickly snapped out of my thoughts; I was going to be late for school, and the doors would be locked. Meanwhile, the man was still trying to calm the little butterfly down, whispering soothing words. Someone approached us, and the man carefully handed the child in his arms to the person who arrived, as if he was afraid of hurting her. He turned back to me, grabbed my arm, and squeezed it tight-it hurt immensely.
* "Look at me, girl, why was she in your lap? What is your goal? Whose agent are you?"
he yelled. I tried to shake my arm and break free from his grip, but it was in vain. It didn't work. He was staring directly into my eyes.
* "Speak, whose agent are you!"
* "I'm not anyone's agent! You almost lost your daughter just now. Instead of yelling at me, you'd better try looking after your child! I only saved your daughter from being run over by a car!"
I shouted back. He began squeezing my arm even tighter, as if seeking revenge. My arm was starting to go numb; the blood flow was cut off.
* "Let go of my arm already, it hurts so much!"
I suppose he finally realized how tightly he was holding me. He let go of my arm and, before walking away, said two words:
* "We will meet again, spy!"
With that, he walked away. And I rushed off toward the university...
