The Attack

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Monday
11:20 AM
Kadıköy, Istanbul

I hide behind a mask of ambiguity. I have expressed my gratefulness for its benefits thus far, but I hd my first real encounter with its repercussions. Alas, the idea of the masks is that it guards an opposing conception of vulnerability and, as soon as the mask slips, a truth is revealed. How the observer will react is always uncertain. This can be dangerous.

My mask was ripped off yesterday.
I entered my building, coming home from early classes at university. I was completely exhausted from another restless night combined with the tiresome stress of attempting to comprehend the lecturer’s fragmented English and deciphering his Turkish, as well as from the long ferry voyage and walk home. It was still morning, and a long morning t that. I entered my building, normally and began to hike the six floors of stairs as a figure approached me.
Günaydın.
A male, appearing old for a late twenty year old with sunken acne scars marking up a a mean, narrow, salt and pepper scrubbed visage grins at me.
What? Oh, yeah. Good morning.
I slipped. A crack of my real self shown, unknowingly in my exhausted state. And, with that simple utterance, my mask was ripped off, fast.
I saw a spark light in his dark eyes.
Foreigner girl.
I have seen this surprised spark of delight before, literally every time a Turkish man has discovered that I am not Turkish. So his reaction did not surprise me.
What did surprise me was the attack.
CRASH.
As I closed the door to my flat and preparing my keys to lock it, I was hit. A man body slammed the door with all his might. The force threw me into the wall perpendicular to the front door and I struck my head.
What the fuck is happening?
Instantly concussed, immediately disoriented, my mind went raced into fight-or-flight. I recognise the intruder as the cretin from the stairs.
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him, saying “ok babe?” as he tries to kiss my face.
Hell no, I think.
So I head-butt him.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!”
I scream. He smiles towards my responsive aggression. He does this to mock me. He does this to make me feel small. I am reduced to an object to him, but he wants to degrade me more.
I open my landlady’s door and yell to see if she’s home.
“ORKIDE?”
Empty.
I run to see if my flatmate is in. I bang on her door. It’s locked, I yell.
“SEBAHAT?”
Nothing.
He collects himself and attempts to corner me against Sebahat’s door, when it opens. Sebahat is home. She was abruptly woken up by the scene and she watches, stunned in a hazed confusion.
Meanwhile, I react. He’s seen and he knows that there are two young girls alone, in the top story of the building, with no one around. i will not let this fucker win. I will not let him touch us. I will not let let him hurt us.
Enraged, I sunk deeply into protective mode. I turn into something ugly, primal; an animal. I refuse to play defense, and immediately turned on the offense switch. I have the home field advantage. He is intruding upon my cave, and I am the grizzly bear. I will do anything I have to do to protect myself, my friend, and my home.
I hit him, hard, throwing him off balance.
BAM.
BAM.
I moved in quick, hitting him in the same spot below his heart with a left and right combination.
I have boxing experience, but these were instinctual, hard, powerful jabs. So intense, yet far from precise, that I would later find my knuckles and fingers broken, swollen, and bruised.I then hit him with a rapid fire, eight punch combo.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM,
BOOM.
I got him, now for the climax.
Three dazzling, lightning punches; head shots.
ONE
Uppercut left.
TWO
Uppercut right.
THREE
The kill shot: left jab, TKO blow taking out his right eye and nose.
He reactively lifts his hands to protect his face and to catch his blood, falling into my set up and leaves his body uncovered and vulnerable.
I wind up. One strong kick the groin to make sure this pathetic excuse of a human being will never be able to reproduce.
As his hands reflex southward, I respond with a swift upward hit with my palm to his solar plexus, making him gasp for air.
As he hunches over, I take no chance for him to recover. I dig my finger-nails as deep as I could to get a firm grip. I drag him down the hallways by his hair.
I threw him out the door, then dropped him to the ground and kicked him down the stairs.
No time to wipe my hands and get once last reassuring look that I had successfully ridded him, I about-faced and locked the door.
Now, that the task was completed, I could react. I ran down the hall and into Sebahat’s embrace and instantly burst into tears.

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One thought on “The Attack

    AlexisstillSpike said:
    25/09/2013 at 03:06

    beautifully written. Reminded me (in content, not in your style) of a similar experience.

    http://paranoidangelbear.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/not-on-my-watch.html

    Piçler size çektirmek izin vermeyin

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