Fingerprints – Ceren Yalçın

He never liked that car. The car which stood on their neighborhood quite meaninglessly and seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever, bothered him more than it should. With it’s scraped blue paint, it’s license plate that had become unreadable due to years of rust and it’s broken front window, it was an enigma to be solved though no one really knew who the car belonged to. It was like a stranger to him, something to be wary of, something to stay away from and absolutely something to obsess over.

See, the boy was familiar to everything around him, he knew which stones on the paved road moved when you stepped on them, the not very friendly bus drivers who passed from this place and those were just the beginning. The grills five steps away from his house, for example, the one which had wide line shaped holes in it, was where his friendship bracelet given years ago by a close friend had fallen and was rotting silently. And the wall next to that, it supported a graffiti, which was done by him and a friend of his who had pressured him to do it when they were younger. If you looked carefully, you could actually notice the doorman’s failed attempt to cover up the drawing with paint. He knew everything around him, and had left his fingerprints on everything as well. It gave him a sense of stability and a feeling that he was in control. Which was all nullified with the presence of that mysterious car, the uninvited guest of a party.

“It’s alright, it doesn’t have an owner anyways.”
The lad whispered in total darkness, the girl giggling next to him.
“I dunno.” She replied back, knitting her dark eyebrows.
The lad, whose fingers were already trailing over his pocketknife, squeezed the girl’s hand.
“No one’ll see us.” He reasoned. The girl shook her head but the lad easily noticed that it was more hesitant now.
“I just want the whole world to know.” Seeing his opportunity, the boy pressed on the issue and he felt the her shoulders relax in the darkness.
The lad took out his pocketknife, a gift from his uncle. The car, whose paint was basically nonexistent by this point, had turned into a metal canvas at the tip of his sharp knife.
The girl, who had forgotten his doubts from a few moments ago, had entwined her arm around his, watching the lad work with a weird sense of curiosity.
The girl giggled again when she saw what he was writing.
“An ‘M’. For Meghan.”
The lad looked away from the car very briefly to grin at the girl before turning his attention back to his work. He was working like a craftsman, taking the time to gingerly wipe the scraped paint with his hand as he continued to scrape. He scraped a heart with a flick of his wrist.
“And an ‘E’. For Edward.” He finished the girl’s sentence, taking a step back to admire his work. A sense of relaxation and satisfaction had washed over him, and he pulled the girl closer to him, planting a kiss on her head.

He knew everything around him. Everywhere he went, his fingerprints were there. The grills where his bracelet rested, the wall with the graffiti on it… And finally, that strange car where he carved the initials of him and someone special to him.


Ceren Yalçın 11G 1621