The one where Seher is chill and carefree
She knew her name was Seher, or so she was told. She had a fortune at her fingertips, mansion all to herself, maids and servants getting ready for her call anytime, dolled her up when needed, served her with massive meals like she would need those more than others underprivileged people, a red convertible that was expensive but couldn't fit more than two pessengers including driver - like everything was pictured straight out of a rich spoiled brat girl predictable soap opera.
Except, she wasn't herself. She knew, oh of course she knew everything was off the track. Her instincts spoke louder than her mind worked.
She was not comfortable with everything. Her revealing wardrobe, her piling money came from who knew where, her fake parents and siblings she could not emotionally connect in any way possible.
She knew something was off.
Did she talk to anyone?
Yes, once.
To her sister she didn't even trust.
But only five minutes after, she was put off with something similar like, "Oh you're thinking too much. It's probably your trauma from the kidnapping."
Ah... the fake story of being kidnapped.
Like a classic 60s black and white comedy slapstick film when she was first told the tale behind her waking up on a hospital bed three months ago.
She was kidnapped. The baddie wanted a ransom from her dad. Her parents worked out a rescue plan for her with the forces and eventually she ended up injured on her head and the kidnapper got away.
Did she believe any of this?
She didn't.
Because she knew from within she was living a lie, not a life. She was a doll, faking and nodding only because she was scared of the reality.
She felt the pain every night. The pain of laying down in the big bed feeling broken - while at the same time she could feel the little warmth she had felt before in the same bed. What was the difference then and now, she couldn't figure it out.
All she knew was she used to have it better.
Everything.
But now despite what everybody was trying to convince her about having everything one could possibly hope for, she had nothing.
"Just chill. Let your hair down. Be carefree," her fake sister suggested.
So she decided to go for a long drive.
Her driving through the highway with no destination was what she called therapy. With a relevant song: The Show by Lenka, to keep her company being put on loop:
"I'm just a little bit caught in the middle,
Life is a maze, Love is a riddle..."
She had her head banging slow to the music. With a green strap blouse that complements her eyes, matched up with a pleated skirt knee-length same color. Her straight hair was released of a pony-tail. Hairband lingered on her left wrist in case needed.
She took down her screen a little bit to breath the summer breeze.
And then she thought. Where could she go to find peace and calmness for herself. To be just herself when she knew nothing of her self-being anymore. To meet and talk to people she could trust and trust her back unconditionally. To feel like moving forward and not just getting caught in the middle of nowhere.
Her long thoughts were interrupted with a blinking alarm on her dashboard, signalling low level of gas and she needed a refill.
Odd, she was thinking to herself as she just refuled about 2 hours ago when she started the driving journey. And now on the route she was not familiar, she doubted there would be any gas station nearby.
She turned on her car's navigation to lead the way this time. About 10 minutes later, she was asked to get off the highway and go along the small road afterwards.
At this rate, she had started to regret her decision to go chill and carefree, because she clearly could not handle being by herself.
If she was strong enough, she would've left long ago to find the truth.
If she was brave enough, she would not be too afraid to find out what were the things she had left behind.
Maybe accepting all the lies was far better than discovering the truth.
"You will arrive in 2 minutes," said the not-so-helping navigator.
"I doubt so," Seher answered, knowing exactly she shouldn't have.
But she still went along with the suggested route, with the blinking alarm still, deep down praying she would make it to the gas station before-
Her car died, in the middle of this tiny two ways small road without any emergency bay for her to park the car while not causing any nuisance to other road users.
Except, there was no other car on the road. Not from her back, nor the opposite direction.
Odd, she thought again.
Where was this place, she wondered.
She took out a phone from her tote bag and immediately the screen lit up with a notification of 'low battery'.
Did she not charge her phone before going out this noon? Her brows knitted tight.
"Wow, I could get easily freaked out right now."
But she didn't. Her whole life was a mess itself that this would seem like such a small problem.
Her watch showed it was nearing nine in the evening. Explained the cloud getting darker in a slow motion, just nice for her to enjoy some sunset while she was at it.
She pushed her door and got out, oh so bravely. Her stiletto might be ruined by this uneven road with imperfect rocks and sands mixture when she took a step by step towards her back trunk.
She bent forward to look for her thin jacket as she could already feel the cool night air approaching. To her surprise, she would care more to warm herself first before trying to deal with this dead car afterwards.
She jumped in shock with a sudden honk from behind. Her left hand which was holding the trunk door just slightly above the frame abruptly released the hold, causing her skirt to get caught in the middle.
In a split second she needed to make a choice between saving her skirt or turned around to the root of the sound of neverending loud honking.
She chose the latter.
Little did she notice her skirt was torn apart in half, revealing her bear thighs as she was almost drowning in the eyes-locking staring competition with some guy driving a jeep, tilting his head out of the window asking if she needed any help.
She did. And he might be just the person.