Akel woke up to a sunny, beautiful morning. As she looked at the sky from the window, she replayed the happenings of the previous evening, a smile spreading across her face as she sipped her coffee and whispered that another story had come to an end. She felt lighter, the chaos behind her, and finally reached a sense of peace away from turmoil. Now she stood before her life, rebuilt from scratch, with wounds layered upon wounds. She tucked these thoughts away in the deepest corner of her mind, gathered all her energy, and was ready for her new life and her first job interview.
An invisible strength at her side, she stepped onto the street with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. She was unaware that this step, like life itself, would rebuild her.
On the bus, she looked out the window, her mind full of questions and her heart holding a small hope. Standing in front of the building where she would interview, she drew a deep breath and tried to see herself from the outside: a young woman stepping into a new city for a new life...
Inside, a wide table, a smiling man and a woman sitting behind it. As she introduced herself, her voice trembled a little, but she tried to lend power to the end of her sentences. No one noticed the storm inside her.
"Barış Bey," addressing Ms. Gül, asked, "we have a shortage in the production department, right?"
"Yes, sir," Gül replied.
"Then show them the job, let them have a look; and have them start tomorrow," he said, and started to tend to his phone.
The production floor was loud, dusty, and busy—a place that could be disturbing for Akel. Deep inside, she wondered, "What am I getting myself into?" But she pulled herself together quickly and said, "I have to do this." She learned the details of the job and its workflow, then left.
As she pushed the heavy door of the building and stepped outside, the wind slapped her face. She paused for a few seconds, took a deep breath. The cold, ordinary voice from inside—"Okay, start"—still echoed in her ears. It wasn't a big job, perhaps... And maybe no one had really listened to her. But a door had opened, after all.
She slowly stepped onto the curb and looked around. A new city, unfamiliar faces, unfamiliar streets—everything scared her a little. She tightened the handle of her bag as if it were the only thing that could keep her from falling.
" What if I can't do it?" she asked herself. As the words fell from her tongue, a warmth passed through her: But what if I can do it?
Walking along the sidewalk, even her footsteps sounded different. It felt as if there was a tiny victory whispered within those quiet steps. She didn't yet feel strong, but in a corner, there was a part of her that whispered, "You succeeded, even if small."
Perhaps for the first time, she had opened a door with her own hands. Fear and excitement walked with her at the same time. A shadow of her past whispered: "You are dependent on me…" But this time, another voice walked ahead of that dark line:
"Even if small, this step is mine."
She smiled. The wind ruffled her hair, and she quickened her steps a bit. She might not fully believe it yet, but hope had already mingled with her steps.
Amid these thoughts, she arrived home. When she opened the door, the first thing she noticed was the silence. Silence could sometimes scare her; but tonight, it felt oddly peaceful. She set her bag down, took off her coat, and moved toward the kitchen. Watching the steam rise from the pot, she paused for a moment and thought of the little girl she left behind in the life she once knew—how she was now, whether she was eating, whether she missed her mother, who knows what state she was in...
These thoughts ruined her appetite, and she soon lay down to sleep. The alarm jolted her, and she sprang up, ready, and set off to work again.
When she arrived at the workplace, she walked in with a cautious step. Going down to the production floor, she was met with loud noise and the sharp smell of dusty air. Large machines hummed, and people hurried everywhere. Akel hesitated, unsure where to start.
A middle-aged woman with a hard face but a soft tone in her voice approached her:
"New here, I suppose?"
"Yes… Akel," she replied, slightly hesitant.
The woman nodded toward the path ahead: "I'm Şükran. Start here and it's easy. With time you'll get used to it."
Akel looked around; she noticed that no one stared at her for long. It was a world where everyone was focused on their own work. This gave her some comfort, but also a touch of sadness; no one cared about her, yet no one judged her either. In the first hours, her hands sweated as she tried to understand which material went where. Then a young man, Erdal, came over joking:
"Don't worry, tools don't bite!" he teased.
Akel offered a small smile in response. "I hope so..." she whispered.
As the day progressed, she got into the rhythm of the job. Like everyone else, she tried to work quickly; when she fell behind, she lowered her head in embarrassment. But no one spoke ill of her; a few brief, patient looks were enough to tell her what to do.
During lunch, she sat in a corner, quietly eating her meal and listening to the conversations around her. Hearing people talk about their lives, about ordinary worries, she realized she was still a stranger, but she was no longer as invisible as before.
After work, the light began to fade; Akel descended the stairs with aching shoulders and blistered palms from a long first day. When she stepped outside, the evening wind brushed her face, and the dust and bustle of the day seemed to lift a little.
On the street, she looked at the people passing by—some smiling, some simply walking. She felt herself blending into the crowd, invisible yet present.
On the bus home, she sat by the window and watched the city lights glitter behind the dirty glass. The day's machine noise still echoed in her mind. "I'm so tired," she thought. "But at least I tried…"
When she got home, opening the door brought a cool calm. The silence was still there, but more bearable this time. She set her bag down, took off her clothes, and looked at herself in the mirror—she saw a face that was unfamiliar, but a bit more courageous.
In the kitchen, she prepared something quickly; her arms still ached, so she didn't put in too much effort. She ate slowly, letting her thoughts drift. She thought of her little girl: "If I get through this, maybe I'll be able to be with her someday…" she whispered to herself.
Lying in bed, she closed her eyes, and sleep came slowly. The question she kept asking herself throughout the day found a slightly clearer answer: It will be difficult, but I will succeed.
As she drifted to sleep, fear still coexisted with a thin, fragile hope in her heart.
Days turned into weeks, and Akel began to shed the initial sense of being an outsider. The noise, the dust, and the constant hustle of people no longer felt as harsh. Her hands remained red and her arms still ached, but she had learned which material went where and who to work with.
Şükran began to sit with her during breaks, asking how things were going, a tired yet compassionate look on her face. "Not bad," Akel replied with a small smile.
Şükran nodded: "Take it slow. The first weeks are always hard."
Erdal kept joking; one day he saw the box Akel carried and said, "Looks like your strength beats ours!" Akel couldn't help but laugh for the first time in a while. That laugh helped both her and those around her.
Eventually, she stopped sitting quietly at breaks; she started to speak a few words, to express herself in short sentences. Listening to people sharing their worries, about their children, about what they'd cook that evening, she felt, "Maybe I'm part of this world after all."
One day, after work, she stood by the door. Her face showed a light sweat, but her breathing was more relaxed. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all. Maybe she wasn't as alone as she had thought.
On the way home in the evening, the reflection of her tired face in the bus window showed the light in her eyes. She still wasn't sure, but the city, the dusty factory, and those unfamiliar people were now part of her life.
That day, the production floor was busier and more anxious than usual. A shipment needed to be completed, and everyone was rushing.
Just then, Erdal tripped while carrying a box; the box slipped from his hands and toppled to the side. The metallic pieces spilled onto the floor with a clang. A moment of silence fell.
Barış had come down from upstairs and, seeing what happened, turned red with embarrassment: "What did you do! We're already behind!" he yelled.
Erdal lowered his head and could only say, "Sorry…"
Akel, who usually stayed quiet and kept her distance, found herself moved by Erdal's shaking hands. She spoke before she could contain herself:
"That box was very heavy; carrying it alone was difficult… We'll all pitch in and fix it; we'll meet the deadline again."
Barış looked at her briefly, his expression surprised and a bit angry. Then he frowned, "Okay! Then gather them up, hurry up!" and walked away.
Akel's heart was pounding; her hands were sweating. Yet for the first time, people looked at her differently; Şükran stole a quick smile, Erdal whispered, "Thanks." And at that moment, warmth flowed inside her:
"I can change things, too…"
For the first time, she spoke up despite her fear, realizing her voice could be stronger than she thought.
Weeks passed, and Akel slowly shed her shy, timid self. In the mornings, her gaze when she looked in the mirror was clearer; her shoulders were a bit straighter.
Akel's journey continues, as she discovers that even a small step can be a powerful act of turning her life around.