a world without colour

after the chaos

He was gone.

That was the first thought Seher had when she opened her eyes in the hospital bed. Ozan shot him while he had tried his best to save her and now, he was gone.

Yaman was—Seher took a breath to allow herself to acclimate to this new world without him. A world without her giant who had saved her so many times in the past but couldn't save himself. It was now a world of immense darkness, filled with a certain loneliness she never thought possible.

Yaman wasn't someone who had been in her life for long, but the time he spent in it was etched onto her very soul. He challenged her, pushed her, made her question herself, but most importantly, he taught her to love another. She finally could admit it to herself, she was in love with him, she was overflowing with love for Yaman and her heart broke in a million little pieces with the thought of him dead.

The reason why she let herself get so angry over his betrayal of framing her was because it cut deep to realize he had never felt the way she did for him. That the feelings between them were one-sided. Seher had to pull herself away and heal from the wounds that afflicted her, she had to let herself get used to that closed door to a future with them. But now, there was no door of possibility, there was no Yaman—he was gone.

Seher felt tears slide down the side of her face as this new reality finally sunk in. She could never see him, speak to him, yell at him again—she couldn't love him anymore, even if it was from a distance.

Seher cried in earnest now, she never told him she forgave him for what he did, she never got the chance. How could the world be so cruel? How could evil people like Ozan walk this earth while Yaman was now lost to it?

"Ms. Seher, you're awake?" Seher cried and cried. "Are you in pain? I'll go get the doctor," the nurse went out the door and closed it on her way out. Seher was awake but now to a world without colour, a world without Yaman. She rose her hand and took off her oxygen mask—the sobs wracking her body made it hard for her to inhale the oxygen that was being fed through the tube.

Yaman was dead and it was her fault. How could she forgive herself?

"Seher, Seher! What's wrong?" Selim ran to the bed and grabbed her shoulders. He raised his hands to her face and the movement of his hands felt like live bugs crawling under her skin, she pulled away from it. "Seher, are you okay?" He moved his hands away from her body as if sensing that she didn't want his touch.

"Yaman, Yam—" Seher sat up on the bed and put her face in her hands. She wasn't ready to say it out loud, not yet.

"Seher, calm down," Seher felt Selim move to sit on the bed and she quickly moved to the edge—putting as much distance between them she could.

"Selim, please leave, I need to be alone right now, please..." Seher whispered on a broken sob. She lifted her head and Selim flinched from the look on her face. Seher had no idea what she looked like, but she knew what she felt like, she was numb, no longer feeling a thing. Yaman was gone and nothing else mattered.

"Seher, no, you need a doctor."

"Selim, go! Leave me! Go!" She was quickly out of breath, her body still recovering from the gas Ozan forced her to inhale. Seher felt tired, so, so tired. She dropped back on the bed and closed her eyes to escape it all. While she felt numb, her eyes still wept for her loss.

With her eyes closed, she tried to focus on her surroundings so that her grief wouldn't take her to a place she could never return from. Selim was still hovering over her, but she chose to ignore him.

She finally tuned into what was going on outside of her room. She heard people yelling, she heard the screeches of shoes on the tile.

She heard...him.