Alisa
#7: Paper-Paper

I don't know if I should be grateful or sorry after giving him my name. From that moment on, there was something about him to call his name. I don't know what he's thinking, but he looks very happy with his new nickname.

Like at the moment. Just as I opened the door to my room, I saw a scene that tested my patience. My room was like a broken ship, though I never actually saw that big floating thing break with my own eyes.

The papers I always collected in a cardboard box came out of the cage, scattered across the floor of my room and bed. My chest rumbled, an annoyance reemerging in my mind. I'm very careful to know who the perpetrators of this mess are.

However, I tried to hold back my anger which was starting to peak. Trying not to be provoked by his behavior that can make me high blood at a young age. Sure enough, I'm still eleven! And this self must face a child who always makes my tension rise.

Patience Hana, don't be provoked .. don't be provoked ...

But, oh, what is it? I saw some sheets of paper which, if viewed more carefully, came from different materials. A little thick and a little yellowish. Like material from my beloved sketchbook paper.

Well, if it's not wrong I have to hard-earned save for a month to get it. Now, the paper was just scattered on the floor of my room. Adorn the chaos of the room.

Really, it's over ...

"AAAAAAAAAA!"

»»——⍟——««

"Come on, I'm sorry, Hana."

This time I was in class. The next day after the incident my favorite sketchbook died by the strange boy.

The teacher had finished delivering the material a few minutes ago. However, the bell back home from school still did not ring. Be given the task to be collected when returning home later, while Mr. Reno has left the class without bringing the book he had brought. A sign that we do not wander out because the study time is still not over.

Alisa appeared in front of me and instantly blabbed an endless apology. Plus the classroom started to be noisy because there was no teacher, my ears were buzzing.

If I was not being shunned, I wanted to feel like I was circling in class to add to the commotion. However, looking at the gazes of my female friends right now, I was not in the mood to do so.

I finally chose to stay on the bench. It's not fair, they can scream as they please, while I can't go along or they'll look at me weird. Like saying 'What, anyway, gaje?'

So yasudah, bodo very. I can still read the book I borrowed from the porpus accompanied by the music from Alisa's mouth. I was not going to serve the strange child, still angry because my beloved sketchbook was destroyed by him.

"Why are you angry like this, anyway? And you too, right, like to tear the book if you want to draw," he said again in front of me.

I kind of dropped my book to look at him coldly. While Alisa looked at me with regret. He was folding his hands on the table with his chin attached to his hand. The boy was standing on his knees, because the bench I occupied was in front. So that no chair could be occupied by that strange child.

That's not what I'm tearing, but the other book, for me in my heart. There was no intention at all to reveal it to Alisa.

After a few seconds, I returned to the book I was reading. Ignored it. If I look at it for longer, maybe my frustration will increase. And then start yelling again like crazy.

"Huft, if you won't forgive me," he snorted, annoyed that I didn't criticize him at all. Even though I can feel the regret behind the grunt.

Well, just sorry. If I serve you now, my friends will think I'm a lunatic.

Actually, it's just an excuse. I really don't want to serve it. Ukh, he's totally outrageous on my beloved sketchbook.

She ended up disappearing without me noticing, I was too focused on the book I was reading. Finally, one commotion had left, I could read the book a little more calmly.

Today I have no mood to socialize at all, not even in a strange creature like Alisa though. Ever since the ship broke in my room, I've been so unkempt. My feelings are bad.

I remember my late grandmother. I don't know why I miss him. I miss his embrace when I'm sad. I missed his welcome back from school. I even missed her when grandma nagged me for an afternoon shower, while I was playing.

I remember how my grandmother encouraged me to save up, to buy a sketchbook. At that time I was very sad because my mother did not want to buy me the expensive sketchbook. Until grandma gave me the idea to set aside my pocket money to buy it.

A month I set aside pocket money to save. Until finally I jumped up and down in excitement while hugging grandma because I could buy the thing I really wanted. For a few days I kept drawing on that sketchbook, to show my grandmother that she would praise me.

Until I'm half filled, Grandma has been called. From that day on I did not draw any more. I don't know why, I don't want to fill that sketchbook again. But I keep it, and I don't want it if it's lost or broken.

I let out a long sigh, realizing that my beloved thing had been ripped off by the fleas in the middle of nowhere. I was very angry at him, but did not dare to beat him up again. Afraid that the boy will do the no-no.

I finally shook my head slowly. Then I went back to reading the book that I had been holding.

Nothing interesting for the next few minutes. I was too focused, so immersed in fiction that I didn't even notice the class commotion. Until the bell went home to ring along with Mr. Reno who came back to class. Suddenly the atmosphere became like a cemetery.

He delivered a broken two as a cover. Saying that the assignment was gathered next week alone, provoked cheers from my classmates. While I was sighing in disappointment, my task had already been completed before reading the book.

Next, my eyes followed in Mr. Reno's footsteps towards the classroom door. When he closed the door, the class again became a night market even more splashy. When I turned my eyes to the front, my heart seemed almost dislodged because Alisa again appeared without warning. Especially with his current behavior.

He looked so angry that I wondered at his strange behavior. I should be the one who is angry here, why is he so angry? Finally I just looked at him in wonder, albeit rather horrified. I was confused what to respond to this behavior.

"Your back, Hana," she softly nodded, pointing at my back with her chin.

I immediately felt my back, then felt a thin, multi-layered object stuck there. I was surprised, then pulled all the sheets off my back.

It was a sheet of paper, containing very heart-wrenching writings on its surface. I immediately squeezed the sheets hard. Anger soon overpowered me.

"WHO'S STICKING THIS UP?" I snapped so hard that the whole class fell silent. I saw the Sufi who had previously fallen asleep in the back bench at the very end woke up as well.

However, it is not the answer I received. After a few seconds of silence, everyone laughed at me. Knowing this, my heart felt very sad.

Looking at the expressions of those who were enjoying my reaction now, anger and shame overwhelmed me at this moment. Mixed up in my mind. What do they think is so funny?

Unknowingly tears began to pool in my eyes. I want to cry so shamefully. Moreover, hearing the sound of their laughter throughout the classroom. Laughing at.

I am not willing to show my tears in front of them. I immediately threw the papers in any direction. I took my school backpack and ran out of class. No matter which books I haven't had time to put in or zipper the bag that didn't close properly, the most important thing now is to go home. Stay away from everyone.

I'm pedaling my bike as fast as I can. My hands clasped tightly onto the surgical handlebar. I bite the inside of my lips. I tried so hard to hold my tears so I wouldn't come out.

Don't cry ...

"Dangerous!"

"Sok Diligently!"

"Black!"

"Hana the kucel!"

"Toy glasses!"

I still remember some of their writing that accidentally caught my eye. Why would they do such a shitty thing?

Don't cry ...

I got in front of the house. My foot kicked the gate open and threw my bicycle into the garden in the courtyard. I don't care if you're going to be angry about it.

No crying!

I opened the door and went inside the house. Slamming the door of the room and closing it back no less harsh. What was my fault that they did that? I'm so ashamed.

No crying!

My body slumped down with my back still leaning against the door. My breath is still irregular. My body trembled violently, holding back the turbulent anger, shame and sadness in my heart. I hugged my knees and buried my face there.

No crying!

My eyes feel so hot. Unknowingly, a tear slid out. Next, suck me out, then I immediately held him down. But I can't hold back my tears anymore. I finally just cried in silence.

Grandma, I'm moving schools!

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