Am I Different?

Am I Different?
(S2) ~ Home


Long enough we talked there, until exactly at 07:00 we decided to come back soon.


"Sir, let's go back to the room first, yeah. Thank you for the banquet," said the grandmother when saying goodbye.


"Thank you, too, for visiting. May Dek Keyla recover as soon as possible, amiin." said Aunt Diana, smiling at me.


"Thank you, Auntie, Om. May Grandma recover quickly, same greetings to Pia, yes," I said.


We shake hands with Om Adi and Aunt Diana. Dad pushed my wheelchair back to the room he used to use. As usual, from a distance I saw a red kuntilanak right in front of the door the first time I saw it. (Read start flashback-2)


I hurried to turn my face away, I did not want to deal back with that evil and hard-to-exterminate creature.


"Sir, you fell asleep first. Mom and Dad moved things to the car first" he told me.


Dad took me back to move me on the bed.


"Whose car is it?" my many.


"And yesterday grandma came here with a car with Aunt Santi and Jeje. Keep them home to be picked up by Om Yudi and Kak Nova" said the father.


Om Yudi is the husband of Aunt Santi, precisely my mother-in-law. If Kak Nova was Jeje's brother who was told last time to join his father's school in different cities, namely in the city where Jeje's father worked. (Read the part to visit Grandma's house)


"Kok I don't know?" my many.


"You're still in a coma, Dek. Jeje's long enough here, two days," said the mother.


After that I just lay on the bed and accompanied by my grandmother sitting on a chair beside my bed. While the father and mother began to bring luggage to the car.


Grandma took the Qur'an that was on the table. He began to read it quietly while accompanying me. I just fell silent and listened, no longer feeling my eyes closed by themselves.


Maybe the effect I took the medicine after eating earlier, so I quickly feel sleepy. Slowly the voice of grandma teaching slowly disappeared with the sound of my sleep.


I didn't know how long I was asleep until I heard the doctors talking alternately with my family.


Slowly I opened my eyes, saw the doctor explain to me if I didn't understand either.


"Mom." Call me.


Everyone in the room looked at me.


"The beauty is awake, yes," said the doctor.


I smiled at the doctor again. He has been helping me all along.


"Don't forget to check up later. To where I practice, there is no need to go to the hospital" the doctor told me.


"Okay, Doc" I replied.


Then the doctor gave the paper to the mother who had been brought earlier, then he said goodbye.


"This is for you. Hope you get well soon, yes" said the doctor while giving me a small doll.


He walked away with the nurse who used to accompany him. After that, the mother also followed a waltze away out of the room while carrying a paper given by the doctor. Maybe it's a prescription drug that must be redeemed by the mother.


Not so long, my father also went out of the room while carrying a small bag.


"Where are you going, Grandma?" my many.


Maybe what Grandma meant was the cost of my treatment. I don't know how much money they have to spend on expenses while I'm here, while my father during my treatment he never worked to accompany my mother.


I don't know where they got their money for my treatment, their living expenses here, either.


We waited a long time for my mom and dad to come back. One by one, starting from the mother back first while carrying a plastic bag in her hand. After that alternating with the father, keep the same carrying a small bag.


Dad brought the wheelchair back to the bed, then took me back to the wheelchair.


"Go home, Deck. Hope you get well soon" said the father as he pushed his wheelchair.


My mom and grandmother were behind me. You know, as long as I'm in a coma my hair is not shampooed and not combed now dreadlocks like what?


Imagine how much dirt was in my hair for a month without shampooing.


As long as I can lift my head, I have started wearing the hijab again. Like this time, I wore a long baby doll outfit and an instant hijab for me to easily wear.


"Mom, how's my hair?" I was walking down the hospital corridor.


"Yes, arriving at home later in cleanin yes," said the mother.


I just nodded to say my mother's words. From a distance already seen the main entrance of this hospital, felt a burden in the heart as if lifted. It is just the happy feeling I feel right now.


Feeling out of the prison that has been shackling my life.


"Mom, change ya. I'll get you a car first" he said as we were on the front page of the hospital.


Mother rushed to replace the father who had previously pushed a wheelchair, while the father walked quickly to the car park.


Dad drove his car towards us, and then he came down to move me. Help mom fold her wheelchair and put it in the trunk of the car.


"Kok took home his chair, Dad?" my many.


"Yes, Deck. The doctor bought it for you on purpose, he said it was a gift for you because you can sit down" replied the father.


"Cock Daddy just said?" ask again.


Dad did not answer, he rushed to the steering wheel. Grandma and Mom got in the car. My mother and grandmother sat with me.


Slowly I drove the car. At this time we began to stay away from the hospital, in the heart was very relieved when we were free from there.


"Alhamdulillah." The words of gratitude I said the first time I left the hospital.


Grandma and mom simultaneously stroked my head.


"Hopefully recover quickly, son. Let's just say all diseases are left in the hospital," said grandma.


I looked at him and threw my smile. Then looking at my mother, she also returned my smile. Mom hugged me tightly, maybe she didn't notice tears coming from her eyes hitting my arm.


"Kok cry?" my many.


"Happy mother, Dek. No wonder there will be a miracle like this, we did not expect you to be able to sit down so quickly," said the mother as she stroked my head.


Maybe his happiness was not just that, but because we were all able to get out of that hospital. One month is not a short time to wait for people who are sick, must be bored and saturated in the heart.


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