Firefields
Notes Mat Yusi (2)

The situation is getting more difficult. I ignored the screams of the policemen who ordered me to stop running away. I'm hatty. I cut down everything that comes my way.

Such a bad situation was never included in Dul Sanif's plan. He is too confident to prepare a strategy to deal with it.

I strayed. Stuck in a narrow passageway, up the wall, over the fence and I felt lucky to have met the fast-flowing river.

I threw myself into the river water. If I end up having to die, I don't want to die at the hands of the police. Fortunately, none of the police dared to wash his body.

When I saw them, they were just chasing me through the river. When they were aiming at me, that was when I drowned myself in the whirlpool and held on inside there with all my might.

My breath's decapitated. Life still gives me a chance through the branches of trees that jut into the river. The police are no longer visible. As much as possible I grabbed the tree branch and finally survived.

I tore my clothes to bandage the wounds on the legs that increasingly shed fresh blood. My escape continues. Despite the pain, my steps violently hit like a bull in a flick of red cloth.

Many times I slapped my own cheeks as my eyes began to blur. I don't let my body feel tired. I believe danger can come from any direction.

I rushed to find water. I think a combi bath can fool the smell of sniffer dogs.

I don't know where that idea came from. It all comes by itself. The desire to survive made me do anything. Including hoping that the sniffer dogs stopped long enough to sniff out the puddle where I splashed myself in the water.

A fraction of a minute is valuable enough to determine if I can escape a police search or not.

Not only that way, I also disguised the smell of my blood and body by smearing the leftovers from the garbage disposal.

There are all kinds of smells in my body. There was no other sentence worthy of mentioning my circumstances at that time except foul words. In fact, I couldn't even smell my body.

Until I finally fell in a pile of garbage that mountains. I noticed some scavengers who were scavenging for trash were surprised to see my arrival.

I tried to get back on my feet and headed for one of the huts that was just a sack. There was an old woman holding a child.

A knife in his hand was slicing a half-rotted apple. I borrowed the knife with some force, then heated it over a woody burner over which was filled with boiling water. One of the scavengers had scolded me harshly.

“Restore the knife,” he cried repeatedly.

"I just borrowed a little and asked for a little water. The oath!" my promise when the scavenger tried to drive away.

I don't know what he was thinking when he smelled a foul scent from my body, plus a knife in his hand. The scavenger then went back to scavenging for trash while continuing to watch me from a distance.

Before carrying out the behavior plan, prying out the **** that is still lodged in the legs, I immediately looked for used sandals.

I took a deep breath until my cheek was pulled back while biting the sandal. Cold sweat melted from the forehead as the tip of the knife just stuck to the skin of the foot. It feels hot and painful.

It's crazy, I thought. My body was weak for a moment. I felt how good my life was before. However, it is too late to regret the situation. I have to take all the risks myself.

The woman who had been watching was unable to see what I was doing. He inched away, could not bear to see me holding a knife whose tip was reddened with embers.

I looked at the injured part of my leg. The comb water marks made the wound appear to be rotting. Incredible pain. So hurt.

With trembling I took the remaining mineral water from the woman. I gulped some and then the rest to clean the wound. If I hadn't imagined the sniffer dogs that might have managed to unravel the smell of my body, I might have been desperate.

It is precisely this overwhelming fear that is the courage that makes me do it again immediately.

Cold sweat flooded in as the tip of the hot blade began to touch the wound on my leg. That day I felt an incredible pain.

My eyeballs like they want to come off. Used sandals are not strong enough to hold my bite when the tip of the knife has hit the base *****.

My body is shaking violently. Whenever***** was touched by the tip of the knife, the pain caused could not be explained.

When **** it slowly came out through the flesh fibers, I howled long, the veins in my body like they wanted to break up, my body twitched and immediately fell down with a breath that was almost broken.

At that time, I wanted to close my eyes, take a short nap and wake up refreshed. But, like I said. I don't let my body feel tired. Things aren't safe enough. I left immediately without a purpose.

For three months, I decided to hide in Latif's house. He's a nice guy I just met when I stopped a well in one of the surau.

Lately I found out he was a naji teacher in that surau. He offered me food and gave me clean clothes. Little by little I tell you all the things I've been through.

I noticed, not a single bit of Latif was planning to report me to the police. He doesn't even blame me. He asked me to be patient and repent.

“All errors can still be corrected as long as we want them to,” Latif said at the time giving me advice.

Honestly, I don't know what to start with. Every day I just see Latif doing prayers, teaching children to teach the Quran and giving many tips to young people in the mosque.

One night in front of his porch, something shook my soul somehow. Perhaps, because I often accepted Latif's courtesy, kindness and patience, especially listening to his thoughts, in front of Latif I expressed my desire to embrace Islam.

Latif guided me patiently. Every day he watered the kalbuku with five prayers. In the expanse of prayer, I often cry for the journey of my life that has passed. I am so grateful to have met Latif.

Every day I help him work in the fields. After that, he taught me to read the Quran.

In the fourth month, after everything I thought was ready, Latif let me leave his house. He didn't say much when I told him I was going to the police station and admit to all my mistakes.

He smiled, hugged me tightly and whispered something that made my heart tremble.

"Wherever your steps go, God is with you.”

That day, I cried again. A cry that came from within my heart. I hug Latif once again. I promise, someday if there is time and long life, I want to meet him once again.