For My Brother and Mother
Birth of Nara, my beloved sister

5 Years ago my mother built her house.

Today I will have a sister.

Crying was heard from inside the delivery room. Yeah...., I have a sister, a sister.

Kunamai she's Nara according to my mother's permission, a little bit of my name.

In my heart I promised to take care of her like I was a mother to her too, even though I was still sitting on the bench in 3rd grade.

"Hallo is beautiful", I greet my sister for the first time.

Although she was born prematurely at 7 months of age, my perfectly healthy sister did not lack anything, despite weighing only 2 kg.

Because my mother's condition had recovered, and the doctor allowed her to go home, that afternoon we went straight home.

My sister I take care of like my own son, I learned a lot about taking care of her.

But there was a change in my stepfather's attitude towards me, as if he already had a child of his own and who I was, that's what I understood at the time.

Because of premature birth, my sister needs extra attention, other than the baby born quite another month, Nara often sick, when she was 2 years old she had a fever to convulsions, we panicked, directly me and my mother went to the health center at that time.

After the doctor's examination.

My sister had to name it according to the doctor's direction, since then every heat Nara often seizures.

As long as I took care of her, fed her, bathed her, even while sleeping I carried her, Nara would not want someone else to take care of her because every day when I was not at school I took care of her.

I really love him like my own son.

But it's like I'm only needed when Nara needs me.

If Nara doesn't need me, I don't feel like I have parents anymore.

What exactly is my fault...??.

I can't choose which family I was born into, and what kind of parents my parents will be.

What I still believe in is that God has given birth to me in this family and I have lost my father figure in the age of children there must be a reason.

Only God knows the reason behind it.

____##_____

My first boyfriend

2012, My last year at Smp.

Exams every day, tasks stacked.

Group work is more and more often done.

At a time like that, there was my friend.

You could say the romance of a child smp and the love of his monkey began.

One of my friends told me that my number had been given to a young man, that's how it was in the old days, that even our face book didn't have it yet, at first I was angry because there had never been a boyfriend other than my schoolmate, and never had I kept a youth number on my phone.

After school, my phone rang.

There is a notification sms on my phone, understand the time my phone is not android and not yet know whatsapps.

I read that text, no name, who is this..?.

"Hay

my name is rendy, greetings.

I got your number from your friend santi, hope you don't get angry".(stuff text)

I tried to reply to the text.

"Hay hello know too, my name is Kinara, after all you already know my number, no problem".(my text reply ).

Since then I was friends just by texting her, 1 month passed she asked me to be her boyfriend.

Deggs..

Afraid of being mixed with pleasure, only this time there was a young man who expressed love for me.

By braving yourself, though,

I accept her as my girlfriend, even if it's just monkey love, that's okay, just think of her as a close friend, my inner self.

After dating we met for the first time, at the cafe, yaaaaa...!! because we were children and I was afraid of being discovered by my mother.

After meeting, I was shocked not by a fist.

Yes Tuhaann he turned out to be out of school and 3 years older than me, but I already answered yes yesterday. I'd better just go through my mind again.

I kept this a secret until I got to second grade SMK.

After that I ventured to bring him home to introduce him to my mother and grandmother.

There is fear in my heart, but it's okay than me to keep silent to meet him on the street.

Titt.tittt.

"Assalammualaikum", he said from the porch of the house.

"Walaikumsalam", I said from inside the house.

He's actually coming..!!!, my inner self.

I introduced him to my grandmother and my mother, he was welcomed kindly in this house, moreover he told me that he was overseas gold mine.

Hemmmm.., my grandmother likes hardworking young people, especially those with real income.

When Rendy was going home, my father arrived home from the fields, strangehh.??, usually my father came home later in the afternoon.

I was already starting to get scared at that time, I was acting normal to accept Rendy, but my father...????, I'm not sure.

Sure enough, when Rendy came home my father was angry with my mother.

"No shame, a girl model like a widow, has dared to bring a man like lo*t*.", while glaring at my mother.

I was surprised not to play, whether it should be like that response. Am I that bad.??, Astagfirullah, I murmured inwardly.

Since then I did not dare invite Rendy to my house again, and therefore I even dared to come to his house to meet his family.

I don't know what I thought until I dared to visit his house.

Again I was surprised, Rendy came out of the living room to meet me in the living room, she was wearing knee-length pants without wearing a shirt.

Her body was tattooed, her legs were tattooed, I was really surprised, I didn't think she was my boyfriend.

Is it true what I saw.??, I murmured.

When I asked for an explanation, I was even more surprised.

My boyfriend is a drunk and a wearer, Astagfirullah, how is this.???, if I decide this time is he not vengeful to me. I better shut up and find the right situation.

Because of my decision to delay my intention to ask for a break up, I ended up even more drifting in my love for him.

I've dismissed all the bad things about him.

In my eyes there is always tolerance for my boyfriend, which is actually no longer good to maintain.

____##__

I'm getting vilified by my stepfather.

More days.

My father was getting daring to say ugly about things related to me.

Every day, I get further and further away from him, talking I dare not do.

A lot of brothers talk to me that if he had the chance, my dad would talk bad about me out there.

But I kept quiet, lest my mother and grandmother know about this matter.

I assume it was just the wind.

That morning my school was off, my father seemed to be leaving for the field.

"Having children can't cook, it's usually sleeping, it's embarrassing" my father said.

My mother and grandmother simply did not answer.

Is that really my father.??, I murmured.

I'm getting ugly every day he thinks.

My own father was bad at me, while my mother was silent, Astagfirullah.

If he gets a stepson who is usually rebellious and likes to flirt, will he be happy about it..??.

I was sometimes confused as to what kind of child he expected.

If he doesn't like me, why would he marry a widow who already has children.

If he is aware of his choice.

He should also be able to accept the consequences of how later he can educate and care for his stepson, not even make him an enemy.

It's out there that bad stories about stepfathers are commonplace.

But there is no denying that there is a stepfather who can love his stepson more than he loves himself, and that's what I'm actually expecting to be the man my mother married.