Aiden

      "Mind explaining me what all of that was about?" she starts scowling at me once we are out of the school and on our way home.

"For the last time, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop being a jerk Aiden,” she snaps, “It’s like you forgot me for a few seconds and then came back like nothing happened."

"I've already forgotten you once, I can't forget you again."

"No, you forgot me to the point of saying 'hi what's your name?' and suddenly changed to 'hey, I'm the boy who saved your life and now I'm saving you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a person that you thought was your best friend," her voice starts cracking, she quickens her step as she speaks which forces me to follow at that speed. Plus, she's blabbering, but I let her continue.

"But she isn't your best friend because you don't exist anymore to her eyes. You don't exist to anyone's eyes for that matter!' Aiden, I'm as good as dead. We should spend our time together digging a freaking grave for me."

A smile traces my lips, but I try to hide it from her. She stops and observes the road. She suddenly turns to me as we are face to face with barely a few inches between us.

"Aiden, you can't forget me," she says her voice only above a whisper. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be sane anymore if you do.”

I pull her in my arms ensconcing my head neatly on hers. The height difference permits the position. I can hear her cry, but I don't bring it up. I let her be. She suddenly pulls her head off my chest and breathes in deeply, wiping away tear stains.

"Wow, that was pathetic of me,” she says, shame slipping from her words, running up the sidewalk “Let's go, Aiden! Hurry your ass up, I can't wait to see what your mom made for dinner."

She tries so hard to hide her pain from me and I don’t like it, not even a little bit. But for now, I'm letting her be.

-

After Layla and I had both changed our clothes after getting home, we washed our hands and ran to the kitchen table where we would be eating. My parents are startled as to why we were racing down here like children.

"I don't think I have enough food for them Dave," my mom tells my dad nervously but still jokingly.

Layla and I look at my mom with wide grins.

"I'm afraid they'll eat me too, Anna."

At that, we all laugh.

Layla and I were seated on either side of the table and my parents on either of the two other sides.

My mom brings the big steaming plate of Alfredo pasta and puts it right in the middle of the table. I can see us all trying to control ourselves. Whether it's hungry from work or school, we aren't waiting another minute for this food and that's all the time we're giving my mom to be seated.

After we had all served ourselves, usual table conversations start..

Layla speaks up first "You guys don't say grace before a meal?"

"We’re Turkish. That's not a tradition of ours. If you always did, we can most certainly..." trails off Mom.

"Oh no, no, I never said grace either. That's why I asked,” she gives me a weird look, “It's a really funny coincidence, I have Turkish ancestors too."

"No way!" I say eyes bulging with a few pieces of pasta still hanging from my mouth. I quickly cut it with my teeth letting it fall onto the plate. Looking like an idiot—congratulations, self.

Layla's the only who sees the scene and subtly laughs at me.

"Yeah, my parents didn't talk much about their past though, but they both are. Or were," she says reminiscing about something.

If my skills of deduction are correct, I think she's remembering the fact that her dad wasn't in the house when she woke up. Maybe he—

"Aiden! Manners why are you being so careless?" my mom yells slapping my arm with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry, I dozed off,” I rubbed my arm, “Careless about what?"

"Layla was telling us about how her parents died and you just kept eating," my dad adds, quite angry at me.

I look at Layla with knowing eyes but my face doesn't reveal anything. “Sorry, Layla. I was still thinking about the fact that you said your parents were Turkish. I guess if I would've listened, I wouldn't have needed to be thinking."

"You're a great liar, you know that?" Mom says with a smirk.

My palms start sweating and Layla almost chokes on her food, wiping her mouth on a napkin.

"What’re you talkin’ about?"

"You obviously were not thinking about that. Some tactic to make you make look better ,huh? Well, it almost worked."

I hear Layla let out a sigh of relief.

"You are free to believe what you want to believe."

She throws a piece of pasta in my face. There are two things that this could lead to. An immense food fight or the moment I raise my hand to throw, my mom would scold me.

And the latter wins.

"Do you need any help with the dishes Mrs. Ozim?" Layla asks my mom as I'm cleaning the table.

"Oh Layla, for the hundredth time,” she sighs dramatically, “call me Anna."

"It's just out of politeness. I'm not trying to make you sound much older than me."

"I know that, but it would sound weird to your ears if I were to use Miss—uhm, sorry darling. What is your family name?"

"My name is Layla Asli." Layla replies when my mom suddenly stops in her tracks. She immediately stops scrubbing the plate and she absent mindedly is looking at it.  

I approach the sink where they are both standing.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

She starts shaking her head suddenly as if we unpaused her.

"Oh nothing dear, I thought she said Alsi. That would have been weird because, uh— she would have been my sister's daughter since her husband's last name is Alsi."

She looks at us trying to see if we believe her. I surely didn't. But Layla brushes it all off.

"Oh okay, it's fine Mrs— Anna. I think Aiden and I should get to our homework now."

She starts walking away when I grab her arm and pull her back. She shockingly stares at my hand. "Mom, could Layla and I make popcorn and watch a movie when we're done with our school work?"

"Of c-course ,dear," she says, uneasy. Something weird is happening and I need to find out why.

We both go up the stairs and part our ways to each of our rooms.  "Do you know what all of that was about?" she says weirdly being able to yell a whisper. I try to do the same.

"No idea."

"What?"

"I have no idea"

"I still don't hear you."

"Ugh, God," I say walking over to her room. “Get your ears checked. I said, I have no idea. Do you?"

"No, all we can do is analyze the situation and figure out what set her off. She froze at the mention of my family name. We can start researching that."

"Perfect, so after I am done writing an essay I have due tomorrow, the popcorn will be eaten over research."

"Sounds like a plan," she answers, jolly, taking her own school books out of her bag.

-

"Mkay," Layla starts her mouth full, munching on popcorn. "Lesch just shtart it shimple."

I laugh as she grabs another handful and stuffs it in her mouth.

What was it with us and popcorn?

"As-li Fa-mi-ly, there. Okay, let's try this."

We both read the article on my laptop laying on our stomachs, on my bed. A movie is playing in the background. I think it's something about a post apocalyptic robot world.

"Okay,so it says that the Asli family are descendants from a royal Turkish family," I say, surprised.

"Wow," is all she says reacting to the news. She keeps reading. "The Asli family dates back to 1300's and were one of the richest families of the Ottoman Empire. The Asli's and another rival family were the founders of the Ottoman Empire."

"That's crazy. Does it say who the rival family was? Maybe that could help us understand if and why my mom was startled by your name?"

She scrolls down. "No, they don't mention the name of the rival family. But I don't think that matters. Maybe your mom got startled because my family has done something bad in Ottoman history."

"Yeah, that might be it."

After a good two hours of searching online, Layla is laying on her back staring at the ceiling in despair. My eyes are practically closed, but I still scroll down barely reading.

"Still nothing?" she says, turning on her side.

"Nothing more at least." I sigh.

She closes her eyes and for a moment, I get mesmerized by how effortlessly beautiful she looks. "What do we have anyway?"

I clear my throat and look away, "Your family was royalty of the Ottoman empire in early 14th century. They and a rival family were highly ranked and were the rulers until the fall of the Ottoman empire at the end of World War I."

"That's it?"

"That's all."

"This was useless,” she yawns.

"We should get some sleep."

Code for: I need to get her out of the room before she catches me staring at her.  

"Yes! I'm out ,” she says walking out of my room. “Goodnight man,"

"Oh goodnight, Anna!" I hear her say in the hallway before she walks into the bathroom.

"Goodnight dear." My mom walks over to my door and knocks.

"Hey Mom," I answer closing my laptop and pushing the bed covers away so I could sleep.

"Listen Aiden, I've got something to tell you and I don't think you're going to take it well," she says closing the door.

"Okay?"

I am prepared for anything. I just don't know what anything is.

She walks over to my bedside. "Layla has to move out," she whispers.

"What!?"

"Your dad and I have talked over this and our decision is final, Aiden. It’s for the best."

"And what’s the reason?" I shoot back coldly.

"A reason I…cannot fully explain. Aiden, we can't tell you for your own safety. Layla might be a threat to us and even we aren't sure if she is, but we can't take the chance."

"Mom, just tell me why."

"No Aiden,” she says, strictly. Her palms are folded into fists, “our decision has been made. There are two shelters not even 5 blocks from here. Layla cannot stay with us. We're still deciding if you can see her again."

"You cannot take her away from me as whole. She is my friend and I am all she has. Tell me why hearing her family name was such a shock to you."

"Because,” she raises her voice, frustrated, “she comes from a family that has been a threat to us once and might be again!"

"Mom, what has her family done?" I say, my voice strong.

"Nothing you need to be worried about if you listen to me and stay away from her. She is out by morning." She walks out of my room closing the door.

My breath quickens its pace and I don't know how I am going to tell Layla.

"Goddamn it!"

I grab the nearest object and throw it to the facing wall. It happened to be my clock.

Great.

"What happened, Aiden?" Layla says, coming into my room. She changed into a pair of my mom’s old pajamas—God, they suit her so well.

I eye her, "Did you hear anything?"

"Nothing but your yelling and the shattering of whatever you threw at your wall."

She looks at the ground. "Which happened to be your clock."

"You'll find out sooner or later,” I lower my voice, “I just don't have the heart to tell you. I don’t know how I’ll tell you.”

"You don't have the heart to tell me?” her face darkens, “What the hell is that all about, Aiden? Didn't we agree that no pain is too much pain."

She seems hurt and it hurts me in return.

"My parents think they need to fucking kick you out."

"They... want to... me? Out? What? Do they, um, have a reason?" she says, crossing her arms on her chest leaning on the door frame.

"Well, our research might help us understand. In her words and her only words, your family has done something to us that might make you a threat."

I walk over to the where my clock is shattered and I pick up the pieces.

"Aiden,” she speaks slowly, “has it ever occurred to you that your family might be the rival family all those sites were talking about?"

"What? You can't be serious?"

"Think about it. You’re Turkish, I am too. My family had a rival family. They were always a threat to each other. Your mom reacted to my family name and your parents think I could be a threat to you,” she tucks a long strand of her raven hair behind her ear.

"It makes sense, but—”

"But what? I am kicked out anyway so might as well figure out why,” she is bitter and annoyed.

"Can we talk about this in the morning?"

"Yeah,” her face falls, “sure, ‘night." She walks out, closing the door.

I throw away the clock pieces and crawl in my bed.

This day has been too weird and I feel an immense weight on my shoulders even when lying on my back. After two hours of hopelessly rolling around in my bed, my eyes finally come to a close. But no relief is given. My thoughts drift away and my body weight is heavier.

I'm sitting on a stool. I'm working on the engine of a broken down car, but I feel someone's look on me.

I turn around to see a beautiful dark haired girl smiling at my unease and I laugh back, just to prove that I am not uneasy.

"I guess you like a challenge."

"I devour them,” she smiles.

Her body contorts in an inhuman way before she becomes a red colored wave of air that passes through my chest.

I wake up panting. I turn on my phone by my bedside.

12:02 am.

I have an approximate amount of 4 hours to fall asleep again, to have a minimum amount of three hours of sleep.

I get less.

-

I wake up, after a sleepless night, to an empty and noiseless house.

No mom, no dad, no Layla.

Her bed is made and her almost empty bag is unseen. The clothes my mom had given her are placed on the bed. My first reflex is to call her; but as expected, she doesn’t answer. A wave of loneliness without her presence washes over me and I’m afraid—how can she have such a big influence on me?

After all, I’ve known her for only a few days. A stranger that I knew enough to be my friend—how could I develop such a strong attachment to someone like her? It was bizarre.

I walk downstairs to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of orange juice.

There is a letter on taped to the refrigerator door. My parents left for work early and Layla was already. Apparently, they are sorry for kicking her out. I rip the paper up and throw it on the counter top.

I decide to take advantage of the moment. My parents aren't here and I am going to get to the bottom of this all. I walk up the stairs to my parents' room. I look around a little. On my mom's makeup area, on the nightstand, all the drawers, but nothing.

I look in the boxes in their closet and I still find nothing.

I then look under the bed thinking that's where everything is hidden in movies.

 An dusty antique box is veiled by a thin cloth. Removing it,  I take off the lid and it is filled with dilapidated journals. I take one and open it down the middle.

Constantinople - 21st of January 1805

Assuming they use the Julian calendar because they are ottoman, I know the years stay the same but I have to search what day exactly it corresponds to on the Gregorian calendar.

'Sir Arthur Asli is absolutely marvelous. We took a stroll in the woods and he told me how much I made him feel alive. I didn't get the chance to say it back. It will have to wait until the next sundown when we are supposed to meet. I'll write more tomorrow evening.

 - Rosa Ozim

Rosa Ozim? As in my family.

Arthur Asli? As in Layla's family.

I read the next page.

*'He let me down. I stood alone watching the sun set in the forest where the man I love did not show his face. When I walked to his mansion to see why he had not shown up, he said he did not know me. I did not spark a single memory in his mind and I was pushed out of the door.*

This is exactly what happened between Layla and I. We were close before, but I forgot. Not the other way around.

I skip to the last entry.

'I don't know what is happening to me. I feel my body become more and more frail. I feel life leave me and no healer can know why. I will write again tonight. I seek help, but no one can give it to me. Not even Arthur.

But she never did write that night.

Startled and curious, I grab another book.

'Isnik - 1859

She is the one who healed me after I fell off the balcony. I saw her again today and she is a wonder I cannot wait to discover.

- Luca Ozim

I skip a few pages after I take a sip of my orange juice.

'Miss Madeleine Asli is her name. We have gotten to know each other so much and I want to spend every moment with her.'

I can't help but think she will forget him too. Although maybe when the Ozim is a guy, he's the one who forgets.

'She does not know me. I do not how to deal with this.

Madeleine thought I was a stranger and had ran away from me. I went to her parents making sure that she had not been in a tragic accident making her forget me, but even they had not known who I was.'

And again, the last page.

'I thought I was strong enough, but I cannot get rid of this disease. I am dead. It's eating me alive and I think this is the end.'

This paragraph is in a shaky handwriting with a few blood stains leaving half the page blank.

He died writing this, or killed himself.

And every journal after is the same.

An Ozim, man or woman, fallen in love with an Asli and when their love was at its highest point, the Ozim was forgotten and went off to die from an inexplicable disease. Perhaps their own sanity.

The newest journals were written in 1918 a bit before the Ottoman empire had fallen.

There were a few research printed papers on the side of the box.

It was information on any other mysterious deaths of an Ozim.

I wonder if my mother's last name is Asli.

Then I'd know I have a chance to live, but that would mean that I’d be related to Layla.

I fall asleep on the floor, then wake up at around 1:15pm. I feel good as new, but feeling this way seems weird.

I run out not bothering to let my parents know I left the house. I took a few pictures of the important pages of the few journals I read to show Layla. I am roaming the streets for her, going beyond my ways of locating to find her. Thankfully, we took more than enough walks for me to know where she has loved going in her life.

Quickly strolling, I walk down the street of the house she used to be welcomed in hoping I'll see her somewhere.

I reach the park where we first really got to talk and she still is nowhere in sight. I pass in front of my house again to see my parents' cars in the driveway. I decide I should probably text them and let them know I am alive, but I make it dry.

I then walk over to the place I think it's the least probable for her to be, but I still give it a chance.

The haunted house where the party was.

I look around inside.

An eerie feeling travels my body, but I ignore it. I walk around the forest too and as I suspected, still no Layla.

But there is one more place she could be.

-

The wind is blowing through the trees by the lake. I wish she was with me so we could just sit by the water and talk, but now I have to find a homeless Layla that I cannot save this time.

"So, you found me."

"I knew you'd be here."

"And how would you know that?" she says walking over to my side with a smirk on her face.

I put my arm around her and we walk by the water.

"When you first realized that your dad wasn't in the same house as your mom and Dominic, we did some research. We found out that your absence in his life led to him going somewhere he wasn't supposed to go. He drove off a bridge and fell into this river."

She has a pained look in her eyes full of repentance. "You then told me that you and your dad used to take a walk here every Monday since you were six and would eventually take a paddle boat around the lake. That talk led to tear filled eyes and ice creamed mouths."

I let out a chuckle realizing I sound an awful lot like a girl; deep talks and all.

"Bottom line, I knew you'd be here and I found you."

"Well, I'm happy you did. Because I can’t come and see you again. And you can’t keep finding me. "

I know that I won't spend the few minutes I have with her explaining what I found in the journals. I won't have as much time with her as I used to so I have to take advantage of it.

We sit on a rock right on the edge of the lake. "I know. But I'll try my best to come and see you as often as I can."

I get a text from my mom and my dad demanding that I come home.

"Look, if I don't get home, my parents won't let me out of the house for a while. Maybe we could—"

She stands up almost stepping in the water.

"Every Monday and Thursday right at this time."

She checks the time on her phone.

"5:15"

She grabs my hands. She looks at me for a few seconds when she decides to reach her lips to my cheek. She leaves a fiery yet gentle kiss before she lets go of my hand and leaves without another word.

I walk back to my house as she runs back to wherever she will find safety and shelter.

 -

written by sarah, edited by yas