4
My immune system gave out shortly after the funeral. Everything hit me—partly in succession, partly at the same time: an inflammation of the middle ear, bronchitis, a stomach flu, migraine. My body was giving up. I did nothing to get better, but a death wish alone wasn’t enough. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The paper planes that Elisha had made for me because I loved mobiles were still hanging there. I knew neither what day nor what time it was. I wasn’t even clear about the month. I lived in a vacuum. Sometimes I forgot that Elisha wasn’t there. Sometimes I waited for his key to turn in the lock. To hear his footsteps on the floor.
Cem and my mother gave me medicine and forced me to eat. Sami often sat next to me and looked like the world had just ended.