Baran returned to his room and searched for the gun. The gun was standing in the pocket of his jacket. He thought he was prepared, but he wasn't. Was it preparation to go to hell with a gun? He laughed in pain. He didn't know what to do. He got a message on his phone at that time.
He was living as an Uber and the message was coming from his client. Client wanted him to pick her up from the subway station two hours later. He quickly replied to the message. He'd be there in two hours. He may have experienced Hell, but he was still living in the modern world. He was supposed to make money and needed a good plan within a week.
The sky was the same blue sky, the traffic was the same disgusting traffic. For Baran, who has been to Hell twice, life was making fun of him in all its banality. He stopped in front of the metro station. He had arrived ten minutes before his client. He would search for people like him on the internet.
But what was he supposed to write?
He could search for strange dreams. When it happened he thought it was a nightmare. Others might still think it was a dream.
When his client knocked on the window, he jumped in fear. He remembered the creature that jumped from the ceiling to his head yesterday. He couldn't find what he was looking for on the phone. The woman sat the back seat. Baran looked at the woman through mirror. He remembered the woman from somewhere, but where?
"Sir, are you okay?" the woman asked.
"Sorry?" Baran replied.
"Your skin is very pale."
He looked at himself in the mirror. He looks like someone whose blood had been drained. He didn't look like this when he left the house.
"I'm a little sleepless, that's all. You're going to Zafer Avenue, right?"
The woman shook her head. Baran drove the car. He should have focused on his job. He would have time to think in the evening. As he moved on the road, he noticed that he was constantly looking at the woman. The woman had not seen him looking. He didn't know her, but he was sure he had seen her recently. He tried not to look at her, so that she would not get the wrong idea. He focused on the path.
''Where did I see her?''
''Excuse me?''
''Ah... I just talking to myself.''
''...Okay.''
The woman was busy with her phone. Baran turned his head to the road. He noticed the red light late and pressed the brakes a little hard. The woman looked forward anxiously. At that time, Baran remembered the woman. The slight fear on her face helped him remember where he saw her.
He saw this woman on the subway yesterday. He thought she was killed by the creatures along with the other passengers. He was surprised to see that she was alive. He shook his head quickly. Rubbed his eyes. The lamp turned green. He heard the horns of other cars behind him.
It was very difficult to focus on the road. So that woman was going to hell like him, right?
"What… What business are you in?" Baran asked. He was surprised that the woman did not remember him. He had killed a creature in front of the her eyes. This was not something to be forgotten. The woman looked up from the phone.
"I am an accountant."
Is that all? No creatures and subway to hell? They almost had arrived her address.
"I saw you somewhere before, but just remembered. I think I saw you on the subway last night." Baran finally asked.
"I left work late yesterday. I was terribly tired. I don't remember you. It's an interesting coincidence."
''So you don't remember…" He continued, fearing that his sentence might have a strange meaning.
"So of course. The human condition is after all. My memory is a little strong. Otherwise I wouldn't remember you either.''
"I can get down there around the corner."
"Huh? Yes. Sure." He stopped the vehicle. The woman thanked him as he got off.
Shortly after, he received a notification of the money deposited in his bank account.
"She does not remember anything about yesterday. If she did, she would not have been so cool. There is no way. Even if your nerves are made of steel, everyone would be afraid of an experience like yesterday."
"So they don't remember like that woman on the other passengers. So why do I remember? Or am I schizophrenic? No, I'm not a schizophrenic. If I were, why would I start seeing these after all this time? It was real there. "He started the vehicle and set off.
In the evening he was returning to his apartment. The street where the building is located was lit by the lights of the police car. The vehicle was standing in front of the building and two police officers were waiting next to their vehicle. A third policeman was talking to the apartment manager in front of the door. Baran slowly drove his vehicle into the street. As he approached the building, the manager pointed to his vehicle. The police had put him under eye arrest with his wet hat. Without looking at the manager, he said a few more words and started walking towards Baran. Baran parked his vehicle and got out. Why were the cops looking for him?