Yasemin's Desperation 1 E-Book

Nurgül Sönmez

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Yasemin's Desperation 1, Yasemin's Struggle 2, Yasemin's Revenge 3
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 223

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Yasemin is 21 years young, breathtakingly beautiful and her eyes are like the blue of the sky. Nevertheless, her eyes are filled with sadness and suffering. A suffering that is hard to endure and hard to imagine for one person alone. Tyranny, torture and fear of death. Yasemin faces all of this on her way. She encounters unimaginably evil people. The kind-hearted people who are like a light for her give her all the more strength. Will she win the fight? Will she manage to free herself from despair?

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YASEMIN’S DESPERATION

Originally translated from German, published in 2022 ©

Nurgül Sönmez

Translation: Nurgül Sönmez

Compilation / Editor: Arzu Kaya

Final Check : Meryem Yıldrıım

Book Cover Design: Açelya Soylu

Illustration / Index: Gamze Taşdemir

Author Contact Information:

[email protected]

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To all book lovers...

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

READER COMMENTS

Biography

Nurgül Sönmez

21.08.1979

Germany

Nurgül Sönmez was born on August 21, 1979 in the town of Werdohl in North Rhine-Westphalia.

She lost her mother in a serious car accident in 1995.

During this time, she was more of a mother than a sister to her eight-year-old brother. In 1999, she was appointed as the guardian of her younger brother. From then on, she replaced both parents and lovingly supported him in all his ways. She has a younger brother and three older sisters.

In 2015, she lost her father to a serious illness.

She achieved many successes between 1995 and 2000. She began writing the year she lost her mother and has written countless poems and novels. All are based on true events. Apart from her unpublished stories, rights to over 50 novels have been acquired by a well-known composer and more than 2500 poems have been acquired by various publishers. Now she is no longer behind the scenes, but on the stage with her works.

Excerpts from my real life!

I like to express myself in simple colloquial language. Preferably warmly and honestly. Nevertheless, I am of course also used to expressing myself professionally and in a way that suits my environment.

We speak a little differently everywhere, don't we? It always depends on who you're talking to.

I have a certain talent for languages because I grew up bilingual. My mother tongues are German and Turkish. I don't find it difficult to communicate in different languages. I can communicate with my body language anytime and anywhere. I think you could expose me to any country in the world and I would always be able to communicate with the people there. Is this an undiscovered talent?

Other countries, cultures and languages fascinate me. So is it any surprise that I have already traveled to over 40 countries in our beautiful world? Even I wouldn't have thought there were so many countries (laughs out loud). I've traveled around a bit...

I didn't actually travel to these countries as a tourist, as you might think. Most of my visits were to meet the heroes of my books. To meet books. Business visits, so to speak. That does not count as a vacation. I've hardly ever taken a "vacation", if at all.

I have discovered real projects close to my heart on a few trips.

I became a sponsor for 3 orphanages in 3 different countries.

Turkmenistan, Afghanistan and Nigeria.

Before I finish, I would like to share some memories from these orphanages with you. I visited one of my heroes from an unpublished story in Turkmenistan. I spent about 12 days there. During that stay, we met a little boy who was crying on the sidewalk. He looked different from the other children there. We stood there helplessly with a crying, grieving child of 3-4 years old. As we didn't know how we could help the boy, we alerted the police. Together with a policeman, we drove to the local police station. The child was a Pakistani boy and was to be placed in an orphanage. All the details he was able to provide were recorded by the police and handed over to the orphanage. We accompanied him to the orphanage.

"Who found this child?" one of the caretakers at the orphanage asked us. "Me," I said. "What should he be called?" he asked.

"Mohamed," I replied. We took all the documents for a sponsorship with us. I made a promise to myself; I want this boy to go far one day. I want him to have a chance of a better life. He is Pakistani and he should not be separated from his homeland. This promise was never broken. He studied and got married one day. Yes, I have adopted him as son. Today he is a consul in his home country of Pakistan.

When I visited Mohamed, I noticed four girls who made me curious. I had to know more about them. Four sisters, inseparable. They were beautiful. Immigrant children of Mongolian Turks. Their parents died young. I felt for these four girls as I did for Mohamed, and took on their responsibility including their professional life. For some of them I was like a sister, for others like a friend, for some like a mother and daughter. They have given me many happy moments so far. Even if I hadn’t give a birth to a baby, I have 526 children.

I also played a key role in changing the law in Afghanistan to make everyday life easier for women there.

I don't see myself as an activist, I'm not. I see myself more as a part of life.

To this day, I haven't spoken to anyone about it. You shouldn't talk so much about good deeds. Just do them. If everyone does it, maybe together we can make this world a little more bearable.

I am wholeheartedly committed to social projects.

The more books you order, the more help we can give to the victims.

And to you, dear reader. If you have a life story that touches our hearts, write to us!

Together we are strong.

AUTHOR'S WORK

Her first book ANA (Poem - Turkish) was published in

2014

2015

YASEMİN'İN SAVAŞI (Turkish)

2017

YASEMİN'İN İNTİKAMI (Turkish)

2021

Matilda (Turkish, German)

1001 GECE YERİNE - BİN BİR GÜN (Turkish)

STATT 1001 NACHT - TAUSENDUNDEIN TAG (German)

YASEMİN'İN ÇARESİZLİĞİ 1 (Turkish)

YASEMİN'İN SAVAŞI 2 (Turkish)

YASEMİN'İN İNTİKAMI 3 (Turkish)

2022

Matilda (English)

YASEMINS VERZWEIFELUNG 1 (German)

MAAROUF (Turkish, German)

INSTEAD OF 1001 NIGHT - THOUSAND AND ONE DAY (English)

YASEMINS KAMPF 2 (German)

2023

YASEMINS RACHE 3 (German)

2024

YASEMIN'S DESPERATION 1 (English)

YASEMIN'S STRUGGLE 2 (English)

YASEMIN'S REVENGE 3 (English)

MAAROUF (English)

All books have been translated into French and are planned for future book projects. This will be followed by translations into Arabic and Spanish. If there is interest and demand, there will also be translation in other languages.

Her works © are based on true events and she continue to support social projects with the proceeds of the books.

Soon also available as audiobooks!

Thousands of voices can be hope for a voice.

Social Donation Activity

Your donation is in safe hands

I would like to donate a certain percentage of the total annual income from the books to charities and those in need.

If you want to be a part of this donation, you can do so by purchasing my books. My works are available in all known bookstores. It can be purchased or ordered from bookstores. You can also order from all online bookstores worldwide.

To buy a signed book, you can contact me or send me an e-mail from my social media accounts. Signed books can be dispatched anywhere in Europe.

Together we are strong.

Based on a true story!

Yasemin is 21 years young, breathtakingly beautiful and her eyes are like the blue of the sky.

Nevertheless, her eyes are filled with sadness and suffering.

A suffering that is hard to endure and hard to imagine for one person alone.

Tyranny, torture and fear of death. Yasemin faces all of this on her way. She encounters unimaginably evil people. The kind-hearted people who are like a light for her give her all the more strength.

Will she win the fight?

Will she manage to free herself from despair?

CHAPTER

1

Yasemin hadn't come to work for a week, although she wasn't ill. I was very worried about that. So I wrote her a message. After a full four and a half hours of waiting, I finally got an answer: "Nurgül, I'll call you at 9:30 p.m., then I'll be alone. Don't call or write. Enough is enough! I did not deserve that. I'm so exhausted I can't take it anymore!"

My co-worker's message startled me and I started thinking about her. I was expecting the time to go faster until 9:30pm, but it just wouldn't get any later. I paced the house like I'd committed a serious crime. I said to myself, "I hope nothing happened to her."

Her message finally came at 9:47 p.m.: He didn't go to work. I'll try to get in touch later. "Yasemin! Tell me what happened right now. If you need help, don't be afraid. Please talk to me” I texted her back. Worried, I didn't fall asleep until morning. I waited all night for an answer. At around six in the morning I finally received a text message from Yasemin: "I'm coming!" I sighed with relief.

When my brother woke up, I prepared breakfast for us. Actually, I need a cup of tea, but I didn't get around to it. Suddenly the door kept ringing. I ran to the front door in fear and panic. It could only be Yasemin, why did she ring the storm?

Yasemin was standing in front of my apartment. Her tearful, blue eyes stared at me, her hug meant something like "Saved at last". I didn't even notice her two siblings because I was so happy to see them and only focused on them.

From a young age, Yasemin took care of her two siblings. Her brother Suat was eleven and her sister Kiraz was seven years old. The responsibility was on Yasemin's tiny shoulders, which grew every day. She was even ready to sacrifice her life to protect her two siblings.

Up to this point we had never shared our private lives. We respected each other's privacy because we were afraid of hurting each other. We agree on not sharing more details.

Yasemin and her siblings didn't even have time to drink tea that day. My beautiful heroine, in a hurry to take her siblings to school, hid tears from them. She stood in front of me, exhausted. It was like seeing a reflection of my own life in front of me. At that moment I thanked my Lord and fled back to HIM.

There was no mother and father, maybe I didn’t know, maybe they do, but they weren’t there at that moment. She was like both mother and father to her siblings. Yasemin made up for their lack. Even though she didn’t say it, that day, that moment, I felt and saw it by living it.

The three looked as if they had escaped from home. I braced myself for anything and was alarmed. But there was no time to talk. So I quickly prepared a lunch box for the kids and gave it to them. »Thank you Nurgül!«, Yasemin said and kissed my cheeks. She was in a hurry to get down the stairs to take the kids to school. Raising her voice, she called up from the bottom step, "I'll call you at lunchtime."

That relaxed me a little. However, I didn't feel good at all. I didn't know what happened to her. The most important thing was that she was responsible for her siblings. No matter what happened, she tried and resisted. I appreciated that she trusted me so much. Yasemin! My strong, determined heroine, who took care of her siblings. I understood that Yasemin had been through a lot, but I didn't exactly know her life story. Despite that, she was still a heroine to me. She was hardworking, compassionate and responsible, loving almost like a "MOTHER". What was normal for her, didn't seem so to others.

I had endless faith in Yasemin because she wasn't acting. She wasn't an actress, not even the leading lady in her own life. She fought a hard struggle with her living conditions. She did all this for her siblings, not for herself.

They are the lines of silent scream,

Jasmine.

CHAPTER

2

The promised message from Yasemin that she wanted to send me in the afternoon didn't come. Did she at least call work? Without further ado I wrote to my boss from the hairdressing salon, because this question was always buzzing around in my head and gave me no peace. I was sad because the answer was negative. My eyes rested on the clock, but my thoughts were on Yasemin. I was surprised because I remembered what she wrote yesterday: "Don't write, I'll write to you." Did that mean she was afraid of someone? My shift at the restaurant was over. I couldn't make ends meet with a job. I went home after my daily shopping. Yasemin and her siblings were waiting for me in front of my door. I approached them with quick steps. My only desire was to find out what was going on. She was happy to see me and approached me with a bitter smile. “Hello, I couldn't inform you. He took my phone away” she apologized. It was as I suspected, Yasemin was terribly afraid of someone, even very scared. The situation was self-explanatory. She was already in a difficult situation.

“Come on, let's not talk outside, let's go inside. Then we tell each other what there is to tell. Did you already eat? Are you hungry?” I asked as we climbed the stairs. "I'm not that important, but my siblings couldn't eat after school," Yasemin replied.

As soon as I entered the house, I rushed into the kitchen, put the shopping bags on the table and greeted the three of them with a loving hug. "Welcome, I'm very glad you're here," I confessed.

Then I told them, "Come on kids, wash your hands while I put the groceries in the cupboards." They both listened, so they replied, "Okay." Then they went into the bathroom. "Yasemin, what's the matter? I respect your privacy. Even though I don't know anything about you, I trust you, I believe in you! You are in a difficult situation, you are scared and afraid of someone. Please tell me what's bothering you, but not in front of the children,” I challenged her. Her jaw started shaking and her eyes filled with tears. I hugged Yasemin who couldn't contain her emotions. Her tears ran in streams down her cheeks. I rested her head on my shoulder caringly, then stroked her hair. Her crying got louder and she started sobbing.

When I heard the bathroom door and the children approached the kitchen again, I called them to order: "Come on! Now is the time to be strong.” I quickly ushered the kids into the living room, leaving Yasemin in the kitchen. I didn't want the boys to worry and see the tears. The siblings conveyed to me that they trusted me, that they were in good hands and that they felt comfortable. Of course I was very happy about that.

After sitting on the couch, I asked, "What did you guys do at school? Do you have homework?” They both talked at the same time: “Yes, we have.” “Okay, then you do your homework now. In the meantime, I'll prepare dinner with your sister,”I replied with a smile. In the kitchen I stood next to Yasemin. Finally we had the opportunity to speak for the first time. I wanted to listen without breathing so I didn't miss anything. Even if we didn't have much time, we had to take the moment.

Yasemin immediately told about her life. She was born in Türkiye. She lost her mother at a young age. Excitedly, she spoke in short, half-sentences that her life had changed completely after the death of her mother. Even though I didn't know her life story, it was like seeing my face in the mirror. Although we have hardly had an intimate conversation up until now, I had a deep feeling that we would find common aspects and parallels to each other. My suspicion was already confirmed with your first sentence. She had no mother ...

Yasemin used to live in Türkiye, she grew up as an only child. Her parents earned their living by selling everything they harvested from the fields and vineyards and offered at the market. "When I was ten, I started working as a hairdresser's assistant in our community," said Yasemin, who loved reading but left school after fifth grade because she needed to earn money.

The manual skills were her, she was very skilful in this job. After the death of her mother, she struggled with the pain and loss. Nevertheless, the reading lover took care of the obligations of the house. She tended the gardens and fields, in addition she continued to work in the barber shop.

In her childhood she bore the heavy and great burden of responsibility that she actually could not bear. In between I looked after the children. They sat in the living room and did their homework. So Yasemin continued to tell me her life story in short sentences. Catastrophic and terrible changes happened in her life after her father remarried two months after her mother's death. Yasemin's stepmother had a terrible character like the evil stepmothers in movies. With tears, Yasemin showed me her wounds on her body.

They were striped and also circular deep scars. With a trembling voice, she described the cruel violence and the marks that her stepmother had inflicted on her. I didn't want to put her in psychological distress, even for her to tell the details. As a person who is always opposed to violence, I am in favor of spreading tyranny openly. As a child, Yasemin didn't even have a girlfriend. Due to her work and responsible life, she never found time to socialize with other children.

Yasemin, who couldn't even make friends with herself, suddenly said: "I wanted to be a prosecutor. I wanted to protect the victims from injustice, and also establish legal sanctions for those who committed crimes.” The bright light in her eyes still floated in my mind. It was indeed an expression of how much injustice had been done to her. The Yasemin sitting in front of me had both feet on the ground, reaching for life with her hands in order to partake of it. The woman I saw was not a weak person. The pain and injustices she experienced made her a strong character and this is Yasemin. “I've been a mother to my half-siblings since they were born. They grew up in my hands. I cared for them and raised ,” she said, making my heart ache at that moment. Little Yasemin, it was a very mature life that she had to live in her childhood. It was inhuman, but part of the reality of life, of thousands of similar cases.

The warm meal was eaten and the children's hunger was satisfied. We had ended the intensive conversation and didn't want to continue it in front of Yasemin's siblings. She kept glancing hastily at the clock, and when she looked out the window, she slowly became restless. It seemed like she was only allowed to be away from home for a certain amount of time. She acted like she had to go home before the person who was scaring her came to get her. I asked her in a worried but calm tone that gave her confidence, "Yasemin, with whom do you live under the same roof? Who took your phone and why? Why are you so hectic?” The young woman replied, “We live with my aunt. When my father died, my stepmother left my siblings to me. We actually live with my paternal aunt, but it's a long story. I'll tell you about it another time.” She quickly hurried to help her siblings into their shoes and jacket.

Talking had relieved me, but it had also been draining as I felt like I was carrying a very heavy load on my shoulders. We hugged as she said, “My sick leave is through the end of this week. In the meantime, I have many things to do, my siblings and I should live in peace. I'll be back at work next week and try to get my phone back.If it doesn't exist, I'll secretly buy a new one.“She explained that there was a fight in the house, perhaps she was still at the mercy of the violence. Yasemin's painful days were not over. She still carried the same pain with her. Yasemin was at war and struggling. Even though she was tired and exhausted, before she left the house she was a completely different person, a completely different personality. With her appearance, she had a strong and hard structure, as if no one was allowed to approach her. Her body language signalled that she wanted to protect herself from society.

I watched the three of them until they disappeared from view. Her life story was somewhat similar to mine in some respects. So I could empathise with her. I understood, even if she didn't say it, and everything I suspected was confirmed.

“Words” became the sound of silent screams.

CHAPTER

3

"Yasemin was an orphan.”

After the death of her father, her stepmother ran away from home. She left the children to Yasemin. But Yasemin was still a child himself and was left alone with the little ones in the village house made of clay, which had only two rooms. Despite suffering tremendous shock, resilience and fighting spirit helped her stay alive.

What had she experienced and seen in her teens? I thought about it and sighed deeply. Her short story, which she told me through tears and horror, had hit my heart hard. Injured Yasemin!

While Yasemin was about to blossom like a flower, people around her even tried to turn off the water and tear off the leaves to make them fade. But she fought back, didn't give up, was strong enough to blossom, to open like a flower. She fought despite the injuries she carried.

Although days had passed, I did not receive the slightest message from Yasemin. Her siblings also seemed invisible. I didn't see her go to school. "I hope nothing happened to them," I sighed inwardly, then began to worry. My boss was a nice person. We got along very well with her. In our free time, we often met with her to go out for a meal or something to drink too. Yasemin opened her heart to me, I definitely didn't tell my boss what she said. 'Cause what she told me, was a secret between us and I didn't want to lose her trust. So I had to find another way to reach Yasemin.

Yasemin only did an internship in the hairdressing salon where we worked together. She could do everything this job required. She even did more than she had to. Encouraged by my boss's sincerity, I asked, "You know that Yasemin is hardworking and determined. She hasn't called in for days and I'm worried about her. The address is definitely included in the internship contract. What do you say, boss, let's buy a bouquet of flowers and go to her house?“

“That's a very good idea,” she replied, making me very happy. At the end of the working day, the three of us made our way to Yasemin. I was worried, excited and the truth was, even a little scared. Of course, my intention wasn't bad. I didn't want to betray my boss like that. I would never do that, and I didn't think I had. Because she really was an optimistic and compassionate person. But our project excited me and scared me. On the way to Yasemin's we had a nice chat and suddenly we laughed. But suddenly I had doubts.

Oh no! What had I done? What if the people she lived with didn't know she was on sick leave? What if I unintentionally put her in an even more difficult situation than now? Oh my god what had I done? Somehow I had to explain this to my boss and colleagues, but how? While my intention was good, I was afraid to do evil without realizing it.

"What if we harm her with this visit?" I voiced my thoughts simply. My boss said, "We won't say anything, just that we want to surprise her." My boss was an angel. She was very human. Without asking any questions, she acceded to my request to visit Yasemin. Although she knew she was in a difficult situation, she immediately agreed without asking any questions. She insisted on checking on Yasemin: "We're here now, we're not going back." My heart began to beat faster. What image would I come across? I sincerely hoped that our unannounced visit would not harm Yasemin and her siblings!

My boss rang the doorbell and my hands started sweating like I was going to an interview. I rubbed them together as I climbed the stairs. Little Suat shyly opened the door. "Hello, Nurgül!" he greeted me and opened the door a little more. A very hard, loud, and commanding voice yelled from the background, "Who are these people?" When we heard someone's firm footsteps approaching the door, Suat, my boss, my colleague, and I looked at each other in concern. Suddenly the door swung fully open. Our eyes were wide and I started to swallow in fear. Suat disappeared from view as the man viciously pulled him away from the door by his t-shirt. In front of us was a nervous, irritable man with a moustache. At that moment, I frowned curiously and took a step back. "Who are you?" he barked at us. I swallowed again and pointed my hand at us. “Well, we're Yasemin's colleagues, and this is our boss. We're the hairdressing team she's doing an internship with,” I explained.