Lost Childhood;

Lost Childhood;
15 Years Ago - Istanbul

Fifteen-year-old Ateş walked through the cold corridors of Silivri Prison, feeling the weight of the plastic bag in his hand. Inside were a few fruits, some bread, and clean clothes he was taking to his father. But the real weight was the burden of the secret in his heart.

For three days, he had been living on bread and tea alone. Their home had been repossessed, and now he lived far from their luxurious villa in Bebek, in a damp basement in Esenyurt. But he couldn't tell his father that. The man was already suffering enough.

When he entered the visiting room, he saw his father. Mehmet Yamanoğlu, once strong and determined, was now very thin. His eyes were sunken, his hair was starting to turn gray. But when he saw his son, his face lit up.

"Son! How are you?" he smiled.

Ateş sat down opposite him with a forced smile.

"I'm fine, Dad. How are you? Is the food good?"

"Very good, son, don't worry about me. Are you going to school?"

"Of course, Dad. I go every day. My grades are very good."

He was lying. He couldn't go to school because he couldn't afford the uniform or the tuition. The school principal had called him in to find out about his situation. But Ateş couldn't tell the truth because of his pride.

"How do you spend your time at home? Is it hard doing the housework while I'm away?"

"No, Dad, it's very easy. My sister Havva helps me a lot."

This was also a lie. Havva had left crying the day the bailiffs came for the house and all their other possessions. She had found herself a new job. Ateş was now completely alone.

Mehmet looked carefully at his son's face. At the dark circles under Ateş's eyes, his sunken cheeks, his dirty fingernails...

"Ateş... you're telling me the truth, aren't you?"

Ateş's heart raced. "Of course, Dad. Why are you asking me that?"

"Because... because you've changed, son. You've lost a lot of weight."

Ateş panicked. He didn't want his father to be concerned.

"I just lost some weight. I play a lot of soccer, that's why."

Mehmet sighed. "Ateş, if you have a problem, you can tell me."

"I don't have any problems, Dad. You worry about yourself. What does your lawyer say?"

"There's good news, son. Maybe in a few months I'll be acquitted. Then we'll be together again."

Ateş tried to smile. "That's great, Dad. I'll be waiting for you. It will all pass, and we'll be back in our happy home." His child's heart wished for this from the bottom of its heart.

When the visiting time was over, Mehmet looked at his son one last time.

His son's condition broke his heart, and he swallowed hard.
"Ateş... I love you very much. Don't forget."

"I love you too, Dad," Ateş smiled.

As Ateş left the prison, he tried to hold back his tears. He had no strength left to endure. Returning to that damp basement that could hardly be called a home, the emptiness in his stomach hurt.

The electricity was out at home. The water was about to be cut off too. Ateş was looking through job ads by candlelight. But he couldn't concentrate.  He was hungry, and he could constantly hear his stomach growling.

Things were even worse at school. His friends knew their families were rich. But now he felt small next to them. His clothes were worn out, his shoes were worn through.

One day, his classmate Emre approached him:

"Ateş, don't you bring any money anymore? You don't buy anything at the cafeteria."

Ateş hung his head in shame. "I haven't had an appetite lately."

"I heard your dad is in prison. Is that true?"

This question stabbed Ateş in the heart like a dagger. "Yes... but he's innocent. He'll be out soon."

Emre looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't know."

But this sympathy made Ateş feel even worse. He was a proud child. He didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him.

As the days passed, his situation worsened. He couldn't even afford to buy food anymore. Sometimes he went hungry for days. But he still visited his father every week, acting as if nothing had happened.

One day, the school principal called him over:

"Ateş, we need to talk to you. We want to know about your situation."

"What situation?"

"Your family situation. We want to help you."

Ateş raised his head proudly. "I don't need any help. Everything is fine."

"But your clothes..."

"My clothes are fine. There's no problem."

The principal insisted. "Ateş, there's nothing to be ashamed of. There's government aid, scholarship programs..."

"No! I don't want it! I'm not an orphan, I have a father!" Ateş shouted.

Ateş stormed out of the principal's office in anger. Because of his pride, he couldn't accept anyone's help.

But that same day, something much worse happened in class. The teacher started collecting donations from the students:

"Children, we have friends in our school who are in a difficult situation. We want to help them."

Everyone in the class was looking at Ateş. At that moment, he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"This donation is for Ateş..." the teacher continued.

"No!" Ateş jumped to his feet. "I don't need anything!"

The classroom fell silent. Everyone stared at him in shock.

"My dad will be out soon! Then everything will go back to normal! I don't need anyone's pity!"

And he ran out of the classroom.

That day at home, he cried alone. For the first time, he felt so helpless.

Several very difficult weeks had passed.

He was determined not to tell his father anything. But Mehmet Yamanoğlu was an experienced man. He sensed something was wrong with his son. And from the last time he saw him, he was absolutely certain that something had happened.

"Ateş, you're not telling me the truth," he said from behind the prison window, trying to look into Ateş's eyes.

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"If everything is fine at home, why have you lost so much weight? Why are your nails so dirty? Why are your clothes worn out?"

Ateş couldn't hide it anymore. His eyes filled with tears.

"Dad... I..."

"Tell me, son. What happened?"

Ateş's lips trembled, but he had reached the end of his strength. At least he wanted to tell his father everything that had happened. He needed someone to listen to him. The silent screams that had been building up inside him for so long were now tearing at his throat. 
He swallowed hard. "The bailiffs came to the house. They took everything and kicked me out. Now I live in a very small place. There's no money left. Sometimes I can't go to school. But don't worry. Focus on proving your innocence. I... I'll find a job. Everything will be fine, dad."

Mehmet's world had collapsed. He felt responsible for his son ending up in this situation. Suddenly, tears began to roll down his cheeks. His breathless lips trembled, wanting to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat. 

"Ateş... this is my fault. Because of me..." he cried out.

"No, Dad! You're not to blame. I know that."

"But you... you can't live like this. You're only 15."

"I'll endure it, Dad. I'm strong. You raised me. I can do it, I can endure until you get out, Dad!"

Mehmet saw how brave his son was, but at the same time, he felt his heart break.

That night, he couldn't sleep in his cell. He thought until morning. Then he made a decision. He would write a letter to his old friend Cemal. Since childhood, he had relied on this man in very difficult circumstances. When they became adults, one walked the straight and narrow, while the other got involved in dirty business. No matter how dark the business, Mehmet knew that his friend Cemal would help Ateş under any circumstances. That man was the person he trusted most. He could take care of Ateş.

"Dear Cemal,
I am writing this letter to you in my most difficult moment. You must have heard what happened to me; I am all over the national news. But you know I am innocent. At least, I hope you believe that. That you still trust me...
But my son is suffering terribly in this situation. He is only 15 years old and has been left on the streets. My only request is that you take care of him. Protect him until I get out. I know there is no one else I can trust but you.

My dearest friend, please help my son.  

Mehmet"  

He sent the letter and began waiting hopefully.