1)Into the Dark
The sun had not fully risen yet, but the house had been alive for hours. Footsteps hurrying between rooms, the zipping of luggage, and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen bled into one another. The big day—funded by years of painful savings from two middle-class families—had finally arrived. A sweet chaos in the living room was slowly giving way to a subtle, bitter excitement.
While hastily chewing his last bite and tightening his belt, the father looked at Aysima, who was crouching beside a fully packed suitcase in the middle of the room. Anxiety was written on every line of his face.
"Sweetheart... all your documents are ready, right? Your passport, visa, tickets? Don't make us worry over there, okay?" he said, his voice a mix of warning and trembling emotion. As the mother could be heard noisily packing things in the kitchen, the father turned back to the suitcase. "That box I gave you... you put that little box with our family photos in the safest spot in your luggage, right? Make sure you don't lose it. Open it whenever you miss us... and call us."
He swallowed hard, trying to hide the lump in his throat. He stepped closer to Aysima and knelt on the floor. His thin, calloused hands tightly held hers. He stared deep into her eyes with a profound longing, as if seeing her for the very last time.
"Don't you ever forget to call us... Come on, time's running out. The flight is leaving soon. Where were you supposed to meet your cousin?"
Seeing the intense emotion in her father's eyes, Aysima felt her heart ache, but wanting to lighten the heavy mood, she quickly cut in. Before he could even finish his sentence, a faint smile spread across her face as she offered a shortcut answer:
"Dad, please relax! Everything is ready. My cousin and I are meeting right after the security checkpoint at the airport. We've talked about this a hundred times already, so stop worrying!"
Placing his hand on the suitcase, her father cut in:
"I am relaxed, sweetheart, I’m not worried... but you are my daughter. Any family would get excited and exaggerate a little at a time like this... Just remember when you first fell off your bicycle... Even a tiny scratch on your knee broke our hearts, my girl!"
At that moment, the clattering sounds from the kitchen gradually faded into silence. The mother stepped into the living room, holding a thick jacket in her arms. Her eyes were slightly misty
"Listen to him," the mother said, cutting her husband off. She walked over to Aysima and gently nodded for her to stand up. "As if he wasn't the one pacing up and down the balcony all night out of excitement... Stand up, my beautiful girl, put this on. It must be freezing outside."
Aysima smiled as she rose to her feet. "Mom, don't exaggerate, the airport is air-conditioned anyway," she said, though she willingly slipped her arms into the sleeves.
The mother's hands trembled slightly as she helped her into the jacket. She adjusted the collar and cupped Aysima's face in her hands. "Air-conditioned, huh?" she muttered tenderly. "We'll see about that when the cold wind hits you in a foreign country. You're just like your father, always so stubborn!"
The father chuckled softly from where he sat. "You just can't say goodbye without throwing a jab at me, can you?"
The mother shrugged and turned her face away from her husband, a classic, playful gesture in their years of marriage. "Alright, alright, instead of talking, hold the luggage so we don't waste any more time," she said, affectionately brushing the moment off.
Time was running out, but before leaving this home and her family behind, Aysima wanted to take refuge in them one last time. She stepped toward her mother first, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck and breathing in her familiar scent. Then, she leaned down to her father, kissed his thin, calloused hands, and respectfully pressed them to her forehead.
"I love you both so much. Promise me you won't cry behind my back and make me worry, okay?" she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
The father held Aysima's hands and helped her stand up. He gently patted her shoulder, a sad yet proud smile lingering on his face.
"I wish we could come to the airport with you and see you off right from the gate... But it feels like you secretly want us to never leave this house, dragging out this farewell as long as possible, huh?" he said with a soft chuckle. Then his tone grew gentle and serious. "May your path be clear, my sweet girl. Godspeed."
After one final embrace, Aysima gripped her suitcase. Carrying the prayers and the tearful eyes of her parents behind her, she stepped out through the front door.
As Aysima took her first steps toward the stairs, she looked back one last time over her shoulder without fully turning around. Her eyes were misty. When the mother couldn't hold back any longer and began to cry softly, the father pulled his wife close and wrapped his arms around her with tenderness.
"Shh... You'd think she's moving away forever," the father said, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. "It's only three months... thr-ee months..."
As he said this, he couldn't help himself either, subtly wiping away a tear that escaped down his own cheek. Though her eyes were brimming with tears, a warm smile touched Aysima's lips. She pulled her suitcase and began heading down toward the building exit. Her parents leaned against the doorway, resting their hands on the frame, watching after their daughter with loving eyes one final time.
