"I know ugliness exists. Because I was born with it," Ida said to herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her black, deep eyes harbored the darkness itself. Those who got lost behind those eyes could never see the storm hidden beneath the surface silence.
Her face, obscured by the shadow of her hood, became even sharper against the pallor of her fair skin. The darkness of the night seemed to shape around her; not even the bright light of the street lamps could illuminate her presence. The faint shadows under her eyes revealed the burden of years and the darkness she carried within.
Her slender, delicate hands rested close to her body like a secret. No one could have guessed that everything those hands touched turned dark and poisonous. But Ida was aware of it. She had carried this ugliness within her since birth and knew she could no longer escape it.
Unwillingly, the deaths she had caused came to her mind—some plants at home and her cat, Simba! Two days ago, she had wanted to pet her sweet white cat. For a moment, she had forgotten about her destructive power and stroked the cat's head a few times. Simba suddenly collapsed lifelessly to the ground. When Ida screamed in fear, her parents rushed to her side. Her father, Alpay, had tried to resuscitate Simba several times and examined him thoroughly. But the poor cat had already died. Alpay, like Ida, was deeply saddened because, in his twenty-year veterinary career, Simba was the first animal he couldn't save.
Ida blinked a few times, returning to the present. She had come to herself just in time because their petite math teacher, Ms. Mine, was about to touch Ida's right hand.
Ida quickly pulled her hand back, saying, "I'm fine, teacher. I just got lost in thought!" Her voice came out louder than it should have, causing the whole class to laugh.
A few even made unpleasant comments about Ida's "touch sensitivity." At that moment, Ida wanted to touch them all and make them suffer. (If she touched someone for less than a minute, they would feel intense pain.)
However, Ms. Mine sternly silenced the class and continued with her lesson. But Ida couldn't focus because if Ms. Mine had touched her hand… She didn't even want to think about what could have happened! What if Ms. Mine had died? Ida would never forgive herself.
Her eyes filled with tears. Thankfully, she managed to hold them back before anyone noticed, but the uncried tears burned her heart instead. She clenched her hands into fists and shoved them into her uniform pockets, waiting for the lesson to end.
Her nails dug into her palms, causing pain. The pain in her palms didn't matter to her.
"Maybe the poison in my hands will go away this way," she thought.
Realizing how absurd that thought was, she didn't unclench her fists. When the bell rang, she released her hands and quickly walked to the school's back yard. She entered the most inconspicuous place there, which resembled a storage room.
She left the door slightly ajar. Then, she let her tears flow freely. The silent rain-like liquid ran down her cheeks and onto her lap. The old, large chair she sat on creaked as she pulled her legs up to her chest.
"You ugly, skinny, cursed crow!" she whispered in a low voice, her tone angry.
Then, her heart began to pound as if it would burst out of her chest because the door to the storage room quietly opened.
She quickly hid her hands in her pockets as if hiding them would conceal the danger. Her tears had not yet dried, leaving salty traces on her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on the door, holding her breath to see who was entering.
It was her classmate, Batuhan, who entered. With his tall stature and muscular build, Batuhan was always noticeable in the class, usually wearing a neutral expression. But now, a subtle concern flickered in his eyes. For a moment, silence prevailed between them, then Batuhan took a hesitant step forward. "Ida… are you here?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and slight unease.
Ida avoided his gaze and didn't respond, clenching her hands tighter. She didn't know why Batuhan had followed her or why he had come here. Maybe he had sensed something, or perhaps he was just curious. But Ida knew that no one would understand the darkness within her. Especially someone like Batuhan, who could never fathom the burden she carried.
Batuhan took a few more steps and then stopped in front of the chair Ida was sitting on. Folding his arms, he looked at her hands; he noticed her clenched fists and trembling hands.
"What happened to you?" he asked, his voice low but firm, as if he wanted to help.
Without looking at him, Ida murmured, "Nothing happened. I'm just… distracted."
Batuhan tilted his head slightly, clearly not believing her. "I can see something's wrong. You've always been different, but today you seem even stranger. Can I help?"
Ida paused for a moment, help… The word seemed meaningless to her. No one could save her, not even herself. Then, filled with anger and fear, she turned to Batuhan and whispered, "You can't help. No one can."
Batuhan's face showed a brief flash of confusion, but he didn't back away. He slowly leaned toward Ida, about to touch her shoulder.
At that moment, Ida froze. When Batuhan's fingers touched her shoulder, she felt the power within her stirring. Even that harmless touch could create danger. The warmth beneath Batuhan's hand rapidly cooled. Fear flickered in Ida's eyes because if this contact continued for a few more seconds, Batuhan would be hurt.
She jumped from her seat, pushing Batuhan's hand away from her shoulder. "Don't touch me!" she shouted, her voice filled with anxiety and fear.
Batuhan stepped back, looking at his hands with a confused expression. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to scare you."
Ida, holding her breath to prevent her dark power from harming Batuhan, took a few steps back. "You don't understand. Don't come near me. Stay away."
Batuhan, unsure of what to do, retreated toward the door. His eyes were filled with both confusion and concern. He gave Ida one last look, but Ida avoided his gaze and closed her eyes. Finally, Batuhan silently closed the door and left the storage room.
For a moment, Ida felt relieved, but then regret and loneliness overwhelmed her again. She felt trapped. Even someone like Batuhan wasn't safe around her. Maybe she truly was ugly and cursed.
That realization shook her deeply. How could she continue to live without touching anyone, without hurting anyone?