It was a beautiful summer morning. Birds outside chirped as if to say, "Look how lovely the weather is." Ismail, still dazed from sleep, got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. First, he washed his hands, face, and head. Then he stepped in front of the sink and grabbed his old toothbrush.
The toothbrush was so worn out that its bristles were bent in every direction, and it had become so discolored that its original color was no longer recognizable.
Ismail lived alone in a one-room house with a bathroom that doubled as a toilet. He was also unemployed. Since he lived in a slum, he didn't pay rent, but his electricity had been cut off because he couldn't pay the bills. For water, he carried filled jugs from a nearby public fountain. To feed himself, he collected leftover food from restaurants at night.
But how did Ismail end up like this? Why didn't he have a family? Why was he unemployed?
To answer these questions, we need to take a look into his past. What could we possibly discover in the history of a man who's now living in such miserable conditions?
About ten years ago, Ismail was just like any other man—working, stable, and living happily with his family. He was a 30-year-old science teacher.
One morning, Ismail got up early. While his wife prepared breakfast, he shaved and put on his suit. Since he didn't know how to tie a tie, he asked his wife for help. After she tied it for him, he grabbed his brown leather bag and placed it by the door so he wouldn't forget it. His wife had finished setting the table by then.
Ismail gently woke his three children one by one and sat down for breakfast. That morning, he had a strange feeling inside, though he didn't know why.
"Maybe I just didn't rest well last night," he said to himself, then brushed the feeling aside and continued his breakfast.
Their home looked like the perfect family portrait.
No one talked while eating—it was a quiet house rule. So the room was completely silent.
After breakfast, Ismail stood up, kissed his children one by one, and walked toward the door. He picked up his leather bag and put on his shoes. Then he kissed his wife and said,
"Alright, may God protect us," as he stepped into the elevator.
On his way to the car, he muttered, "Strange, this uneasy feeling still hasn't gone away."
It was a heavy feeling, as if something bad was about to happen.
"Every hardship carries hidden blessings. May God bring good out of this," he whispered, then turned the key and started the car.
He drove to school at a calm pace. But the anxiety inside him kept growing.
Eventually, he arrived and went to his first class. By the time lunch break came, he entered the teachers' lounge. He ate the meal his wife had packed in a tiffin box and drank his tea.
While sitting alone in the lounge, a knock came at the door, followed by a soft voice:
"Teacher, may I come in?"
Ismail replied, "Of course, come in, my dear."
The girl who entered was Nilay, the daughter of a wealthy, arrogant family. She had disliked Ismail since the beginning of the school year. But that day, she acted friendly and warm, as if she suddenly liked him.
"Maybe she's finally realized her mistake," thought Ismail.
"So, what brings you here?" he asked.
Nilay said, "Teacher, I'm confused about a question, but there's too much noise here. I can't concentrate."
"And what do you want me to do about that?" he asked.
Nilay replied, "The emergency stairwell is really quiet. Could you explain it to me there?"
Ismail didn't feel comfortable with the idea, but he sighed and said, "Alright, go ahead. I'll come in a moment."
"Okay, teacher. I'll be waiting," Nilay replied with a sly smile, then turned and walked toward the emergency stairs.
Unaware of the danger that awaited him, Ismail followed.
About five minutes after he entered the stairwell, a loud scream echoed from inside.
It was nearly the end of the break, and everyone was still at school. They all rushed to the emergency stairwell.
What they saw shocked them.
Nilay was lying on the ground, and on top of her—lying motionless—was Ismail.
What would happen now?