Nazli slept deeply, exhausted from the day's emotional turmoil. Unbeknownst to her, she had chosen the wrong room, mistaking Kerem's bedroom for the guest room Aunt Ayse had pointed out.
Late at night, Kerem returned home, tired and eager for his bed. The house was quiet as he tiptoed upstairs and slipped into his darkened room. Without noticing Nazli, he climbed into bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
Sometime later, in her sleep, Nazli reached out and put her hand on Kerem's shoulder. Startled awake, Kerem reacted instinctively, pushing the intruder off the bed. Nazli fell to the floor with a thud, yelping in surprise. Kerem quickly switched on the light.
Both of them blinked in shock as they recognized each other.
"You!" Nazli exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "What are you doing here?"
Kerem, equally stunned, responded, "What am I doing here? This is my room! What are you doing here?"
Nazli, still dazed, tried to explain. "Actually, Aunt Ayse said the room on the right, so I thought this was my room."
Kerem scoffed, his frustration evident. "You didn't have the sense of right and wrong, and now you don't have the sense of right and left?"
"Oh God, what's wrong with you?" Nazli shot back, her temper flaring. "Why are you always ready to fight with me?"
Kerem shook his head in disbelief. "I want to always fight with you? This is my room!"
Nazli crossed her arms defensively. "Oh really? Aunt Ayse said the room on the right."
Kerem pointed towards the hallway. "So why did you come to the room on the left?"
Nazli hesitated, then retorted, "Your left is my right, and my right is your left. So, accordingly, what I thought was right. And by the way, I came here before you, so it's my room because that's what would happen in the USA."
Kerem rolled his eyes. "This is Turkey."
Nazli huffed. "And in Turkey, everybody is crazy like you."
Kerem retorted, "You have gone crazy."
At that moment, Aunt Ayse, hearing the commotion, hurried down the hallway and into the room. "What's going on here?"
Nazli turned to her, exasperated. "Whenever I meet him, he shouts like this!"
Aunt Ayse looked between them, understanding dawning on her face. "Come, Nazli, I will take you to the guest room."
Nazli gathered her things and followed Aunt Ayse to the correct room, muttering under her breath about the mix-up. After settling Nazli into the guest room, Aunt Ayse returned to Kerem's room.
"Whenever you meet her, why does she say you shout at her?" Aunt Ayse asked, her voice gentle but curious.
Kerem sighed, frustration clear. "She came in front of my car, and she started yelling as if it was entirely my fault. You've already promised to help her, or else I would suggest throwing her out of the house right now."
Aunt Ayse frowned. "Kerem, that poor girl..."
Kerem interrupted, "Mother, please, for God's sake, don't pity her. You haven't seen her true face. If you knew the kind of girl she is, you would say she is not worthy of living in this house. She is immature and irresponsible. She can't even dress properly."
Aunt Ayse placed a calming hand on his arm. "Kerem, she is a guest. She will leave after a few days. She doesn't have to stay here all her life. Have patience, son."
Kerem took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "If you say so, then fine, Mom. But tell her to stay away from my room."
Aunt Ayse nodded. "Okay."
Kerem continued, "And if she wants to live in this house, she should live with manners."
"Okay," Aunt Ayse agreed.
Kerem sighed. "And all her things... remove them from my room."
Aunt Ayse smiled gently. "Kerem, relax. I'll take care of it." She turned to leave, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
As Aunt Ayse left the room, Kerem lay back on his bed, trying to let go of his frustration. He knew his mother was right, but something about Nazli just seemed to push all his buttons. Meanwhile, Nazli settled into the guest room, still fuming about the encounter but grateful for Aunt Ayse's kindness. Both of them wondered what new twists the coming days would bring.