"Brave ghosts cling to the purest souls," one of the authors used to say. I had read it in a book once. A brave ghost doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't love, doesn't count, and doesn't even know. But here I am; still eating, drinking, loving, and counting. Another author added that only the dead have ghosts. I have no ghost; I am not dead. I reminded myself of this repeatedly as I skirted the edge of death. While I didn't even belong to myself, I floundered in an effort to claim my own existence. The weight of the bullet in my pocket began to compete with the weight of the burdens in my heart. What was death, anyway? As if to answer my question, the sun shone above me, winding through the crack in the walls like a desolate stream in a river.
The bullet had turned into a wild predator seeking its den. I swallowed hard, feeling its infinite desire to belong. I looked at the gun. For the first time, my eyes were like those of a keen hunter. Movement was becoming difficult. The seconds were dwindling. Life no longer held any value. A sharp pain shot through my left ribs. I couldn't carry the weight anymore. The thought of the bullet piercing me burned like fire. The dark presence of the body behind me besieged me second by second. There was no escaping him. There was only that bullet. Dancing with the weight of that lead. There was death. There was trying. There was even trying to die.
The abyss between the sheer scarcity of those 20 seconds and my surging will to live was infinite. First, I looked at the blonde woman's focused gaze, then at the surrender on Mert's exhausted face. I had given my life to this place once. They had snatched away my hope for recovery. They had cut out all my enthusiasm as if performing surgery without anesthesia. My feet. Should I trust them? Could they suddenly spring forward? My stomach cramped. I held my breath.
The seconds piled up on me. Last 15 seconds... My breath hitched. I froze. The silence had become ear-shattering. What the Holo-screen was counting wasn't seconds, but fragments of death. I lunged, desperate to escape the shadow behind me. Whatever happened, happened, and I slipped through the fingers of the hand that reached out at the last moment. My legs stopped. The ground above the square was trembling. I was burning all over. I reached out. The gun was between my fingers. I hastily loaded the bullet with my sliding fingers. It all happened so fast that I looked at the remaining seconds without even realizing what had occurred. Last 6 seconds. My thoughts were boiling. A gun in my hand. Magazine loaded. Death at the door. I raised the gun. A distant point watched me from afar. I saw a phantom there. A silhouette. Perhaps the demon of defiance. Everyone was frozen. I was the one who froze them. I was the one who snatched the possibility of peace from their hands.
5, 4... The Holo-screen was about to shut down. The warning voice had withdrawn from speaking. The eyes I first avoided belonged to that silhouette standing just inches away from Mert and the blonde woman's shocked faces. He looked like he had stepped right out of a death game. My lips curled involuntarily; I realized I wanted to play a game. My hands were shaking. The blonde woman tried to open her mouth, her lips trembled, but she didn't say a word. I pulled my gaze away from her and fixed it back on Sis. He was the one who gave me the bullet that now sat in the trembling gun between my fingers. I was confused. Why had I taken this gun? Sis remained motionless before the weapon in my hand. He was the one who gave me this power. But what if I... what if I was too incompetent to carry this burden? What would happen then? In the third second, our eyes met in such a way that the gun shook in my hand. I breathed in ragged gasps. At that moment, the most horrific idea came to mind.
The moment that idea arrived, it was all over for me. With the coldness in my fingers touching the grip of the gun, I did something. In fractions of a second, I raised the metal piece, feeling the coldness of the muzzle against my head. Coming here was a mistake. A terrible mistake. Time slowed down. Everyone looked so stunned that no one moved even a millimeter. With the last bit of voice left in my throat, I screamed: "System!" My lips trembled. The people were hushed. "You can claim everything I own, but my defiance!" I swallowed. My voice cracked. "That belongs entirely to me!" My eyelashes grew wet. At that moment, I questioned everything. Why? Why had all of this happened to me? I remembered my husband again. I thought about how ordinary my death would be. There would be no more photos of giant smiles taken with my camera. There would be no more new banknotes added to my wallet, no more bank cards that never made me happy, no more pizza delivery boxes at my door. In my home, there would never be breakfast again on that new, unused table set in the kitchen.
Listing them now, does my life seem more precious? With the tip of the gun touching my head, I blinked. The light, its reflection, the air growing steadily brighter. The sky pouring in through that small hole. The sunlight dancing on the protrusions of the wall. It screams, "I was born, I still exist!" But I... I cannot scream. The eyes of the silhouette facing me are glowing. It's him. Sis. As vague as his name, a remorseless killer. Why did he put that bullet in my pocket? Did he want someone to be the group leader again, or did he want me to kill myself? Or did he want to make me a killer just like him? I think of the flower vase at home. It's painful. Time stopped. 3-2 and 1... Everything fell silent. The world went quiet. The birds went quiet. The ghosts went quiet. The System heard me. My finger wanted to pull that trigger. But there wasn't a shred of hope for escape left in me. The blue screen shut off at that moment. I looked at the square where I stood trembling. Soon this hole would open, and I would fall in. Perhaps they would show my corpse to those who came after. The moisture on my eyelashes slipped away like a raindrop on glass.
"I am rebelling!" I screamed, as if possessed. Dozens of people raised their heads for a moment to look here. As if bowing their heads was a grave crime for them. "This place is a house of torment!" I continued to shout. My voice echoed in my ears. It was a voice clearly produced by the painful friction of my vocal cords. "System, answer me! What can you do right now if I kill myself? No matter what you do, my life doesn't belong to you! This is my life!" I felt the sorrow of the teardrop sliding down my cheeks. "Why is the world so cruel?" This sentence had fallen from my lips with grief. "Why am I following these stupid rules?" My breathing quickened; I was nearing the end. As the System remained silent, my voice grew filled with an even more unbearable pain. "Why am I suffering so much?" I whispered. I looked at the others. I looked at them to see if I could find a desire for change in their eyes. But they slowly sank to the ground. As if a movie were being played before them. Even the blonde woman. Even Mert. They all sank to the ground. I laughed with a nervous breakdown. Before falling into that pit under my feet and dying, I wanted to say one more word. But my lips were parched. "System! If you can hear me, remember this! I rebel against you with all my might! Do you accept my challenge?" There was a misty expression in Sis's eyes. I saw him standing there from all that distance away. "If you don't accept, I will think you are afraid!" I shouted with all my strength.
"I will call you a pathetic system! Are you in?"