AllFreeNovel
Share Us
*
Aslan
*
(Heart in Sanskrit:??????)
I WAS GIVEN A WINDOW SEAT.
Thoughtful, I supposed.
Or sadistic if they knew what awaited me down there.
I expected my heart to stop pumping as we descended into Istanbul. Dusk was falling, triggering streetlights and crushes of buildings to glitter with a welcoming honey glow. The Bosporus Strait sliced like a dark ribbon through the city, providing a natural boundary between Asia and Europe, connecting the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara.
My eyes skipped over the view, remembering moments, recognising landmarks, drinking in the sprawling city as it soaked up the last spiels of sunset.
I’m...home.
The last time I’d seen this view, I’d sat next to Melike as I pointed out mosques, towers, and bazaars as we soared away from the only country we’d ever known. I’d travelled on a passport that wasn’t in my real name, fearing for my parents’ safety as we came out of hiding to flee, never knowing that it was my fault we were running in the first place.
My hands balled as the wing flaps activated, slowing our descent, lining up for the runway below. I glanced at Roger, my escort. The thin-lipped, blond-haired guy who’d accosted me outside the Townsville Hospital. I’d learned his name thanks to the many hours we’d shared in a tiny interview room as he tried to uncover my secrets. He’d been my last contact on Australian soil and had grown into a strange kind of acquaintance.
An acquaintance escorting me to my death.
Tearing my gaze off his slack jaw as he snoozed, I focused on my homeland again.
It’d been so long.
Too long.
Homesickness slammed into me. Memories of my family’s house in Izmir crowded me. Flavours of my mother’s cooking and the scents of the spice markets all swirled with the awful knowledge that I might be home, but this wasn’t where I belonged.
Not anymore.
I belonged with Neri.
Back there.
Far, far away.
Twenty hours, two plane rides, and a nightmarish week of unendurable separation between us.
They didn’t even let me call her to say goodbye.
That was the part I couldn’t stomach.
It was an open wound.
A festering disease.
I didn’t know how long I’d remain a free man once the plane landed, but I had no intention of dying without hearing her perfect voice one last time.
The moment I cleared customs and Roger completed his task at placing me firmly back into Turkey, I was running.
He might have escorted me out of Australia. I might have been given a temporary right to fly, guided through the transit lounge in Dubai like a criminal, and kept guarded as we waited for our connecting flight, but according to him, I was a free man the moment I stepped foot into Istanbul.
Therefore, I would run as a free man.
