In the middle of that week, a Wednesday morning, Istanbul was deeply gloomy. There was a cataclysmic sight, which was like a home or a family that just got out of the catastrophe. People were walking with their heads bowed so that they wouldn’t see the quarter. Indeed, the night before, it was as if a cyclone had devastated Istanbul. It was as if the bomb, placed in a garden close to Ataturk’s house in Thessaloniki, was detonated in Istanbul with the highest intensity. There was no state, no people. It was all an exacerbated crowd. The owners had the same fate as all the shops owned by the Greek. It was impossible to understand what happened to people. Various sacred items were extorted with invaluable historical and sacred depictions. The tombs were destroyed, and the sarcophagus of the patriarchs was totally destroyed. The disastrous situation of the Greek families of our city, which was exposed to the destruction of residences and the total loss of personal movable and immovable wealth, was disheartening. The Greek were in terror, misery, and despair. It was not only the Greek, but also the Armenian, the Jewish, in brief, all non-Muslims that were in a similar situation. The crowd sometimes even hurt the Turks and Muslims.
Alastor was Persephone’s fiancé. He worked at the linendraper across the street from the house. He had been orphaned since he was 4. Somehow, he had reached the age of 17. He lived alone in a small patrimonial house and had been working at the linendraper for some time. As he swept the front of the store or carried goods to the warehouse, stole a look at the girl who was gazing out of the window. She went to the store with her grandmother, and they met there. They took a shine to each other…
I would like to tell you a great romance, but regrettably, I can’t. It’s a story that’s leftover from that night. It was the day that played out riots. In the morning, everything was as usual except for a difference. An extraordinary hustle in some Turkish youth… In the afternoon, there were reports of attacks on non-Muslims, especially on the Greek, and on their shops in various parts of Istanbul. Late afternoon, a crowd of desperadoes streamed into the neighbourhood. There were many Greek and Jewish stores along the street where they lived. Just above the shop was the Greek church and behind the church was the cemetery. The desperate crowd was looting, burning, and tearing them down. Alastor was trying to take care of his shop, stop them like everyone else. However, it was one thing for them to throw him out and smash his mouth shut. They were throwing out the fabric inside and burning the rolls of fabric. They had gone berserk. The truck was rushing down the street, tearing up the fabrics that had been thrown out. As hours passed, the crowd, which was unable to settle accounts on the merchants, began to attack the houses, churches, and even cemeteries. Persephone was waiting in fear with her Turkish neighbours Nezaket and her husband Mehmet. While Mehmet was going to buy a Turkish flag from his own shop, he was almost beaten by the furious gang so that he could barely escape. Unfortunately, his tiny tailor shop was also swarming and destroyed. Finally, they were relieved when the Armenian doctor upstairs brought the flag that he had got to protect himself while the Jewish jeweller’s shop across the street was plundered. These three families, who belonged to different races and religions but had no enmity, began to wait, with the elders at the entrance of the apartment, because there was only one flag. Persephone looked out of the window and was shocked by not listening to his grandmother telling her to stay away from the window. They set the church on fire. The cemetery was devastated. Five people from the group who couldn’t even stand the bodies in the graves that they opened, finally got into the apartment, and then saw the flag and came back after a nice blow to the doors. However, someone who was unable to slow down had kicked Persephone’s and her grandmother’s door down, who was at death’s door. Wasn’t this the boy who worked with Alastor and called him brother? He knew they aren’t Turks, but why would he do such a thing? The man who broke in breaking the door disbanded the place, pocketed all the valuables he had in his sights, then knocked about Persephone and threw his grandmother down from the sickbed, and headed for the other apartments. Persephone heard Alestor’s heartbreaking screech at that moment. He was lying in a pool of blood in front of the door. That night seemed like it would never end. Riots could not be stopped until morning. When it was all over, it was a mind-blowing sight. The fate of our protagonists did not bear any luck. One of the heartbreaking things that remained from the night was the two lovers who could not get together…
