I AM YOU AND ISLAM
CHAPTER 15

“I’m so sorry honey.” Sam rubbed the heads of the woman he loved. His voice suddenly clouded, a sense of regret for his behavior towards Irene suddenly came just like that.

“Don’t touch me!” Feeling uncomfortable, Irene clapped Sam's hands violently. He also inched backwards away from humans who he assumed had started to go crazy.

The debate happened. Irene spoke at length about her regret for Sam. The woman was really uneasy when Sam showed a spoiled attitude towards her. Who's Sam? For Irene she was just a former human who for six semesters became her messenger to do everything. Indeed, even the hailspot setitis will be much greater than Irene's feelings for the man of the black sideburn.

Seeing the intense anger, Sam even more grim. How not? Irene's face looked even prettier if she was singing lips like that.

But in the midst of Irene's incessant murmur to Sam, there was someone who had been standing with a burning heart.

“Oh so that woman!” The fiery whiz of the owner of the heart.

...***...

Irene ran fast like she was avoiding demons. His life was completely fooled after Sam again showed a face. Why didn't God just let that thing die? Why must it be reunited? And why does the man's love not go out even though it has been for years? Irene mumbled furiously in the heart. His head was completely littered with memory-by-memory rounds about their former story.

If only Sam did not return for sure at this time he could freely sip free air. If Sam hadn't come back, maybe his days wouldn't have been this sad. Sam is a total troublemaker! Are there no mirrors in your home? He should be sensitive to the cruel attitude of the girl he loves. She was completely unexpected by Irene. He should have realized. It's not that it's getting hotter like this.

“Same on you fucking man!” Irene screamed loudly, evoking all emotions. Fortunately, there were no hammerheads or other sharp objects around. Otherwise, maybe the leafy sideburner had been bottled in his head until it was bruised by Irene.

...***...

Very quickly time passed. It felt like the afternoon had come back by then. Only again it feels like immersing in the world of deception now he has to launch the action again.

It's still the same as usual. The veil still can not be attached perfectly wrapped all parts of the head of the girl who is facing the mirror in the room. The orange color began to appear to cover the entire sky. Some of the complex mothers are also seen busy taking care of the dirty house because of the cluster of tree leaves. Sometimes they scream loudly so that their children who are playing immediately go home then take a shower and immediately complete the task.

Not wanting to be late as before, Irene took the key of her motorbike which was stuck in the nail wall and rushed out with a navy shirt that wrapped half of her body. Not to forget he also brought a veil and rolled it on the roundabout of the neck. You weird girl. The scarf and veil are two very different functions. Then why was the moca-colored square item wrapped around the nape of the neck?

It's up to him.

...***...

No motorbike was running fast. There are no race drivers. There are no deafening horns of road users. And there's no satay whose wagon almost crashed. This afternoon the girl was driving leisurely. Enjoying the boisterousness of the streets and the warm orange rays that pierced into the skin of the earth.

16:30

It was in a familiar building. The building that he covers every afternoon. The feeling of hesitation to set foot on the building is now gradually fading. The long-haired girl put her motorbike into the perkarangan house whose front gate is not locked. Unwinding the cloth around her neck and leaving it to hang on her head without a safety pin.

But his eyes caught something unusual. The rustling that is filled every day by children is currently empty of leaping without occupants. Where'd they? Is it a holiday today? Impossible! Fizhan said they always teach here every afternoon.

Tok to tok.

The confused girl also moved closer to the door of the house which turned out to be hung by a silver padlock. Now Irene understood that the owner of rurmah was not in there.

“Nyari Fizhan deck?” A mother was barren and made Irene a little surprised. He turned his head to the middle-aged woman who was carrying a large plastic bag in his right hand.

“Iya ma'am. Where is the guy?”

“Fizhannya again go with children najai.”

“Loh where?”

“Ke field downtown. There is an event said.”

“Udah long yes?”

“One hour ago.”

“Mother do you know?”

“Oh thank you very much bu.”

In the sense of receiving enough information from the mother, Irene also turned the direction and headed to the location in question. It doesn't matter if you have to drive further. But his heart kept wondering “Why wasn't I told?”

On the other hand, he thought about it, without realizing there was an object that flew and slipped to the ground.

...***...

After driving for a long time Irene arrived at a connecting Train Station between Medan City and Asahan. A lot of people passed by there. Some of them brought large cardboard boxes and suitcases. And the rest are carrying small backpacks or just plain slinbags hanging on their arms. The sound of the car sounded loud but did not look its shape. Because Irene just pulled over on the sidewalk, next to the zebra cross with people who were crossing the road.

It is not the train station that is the destination. Rather a place that exactly faces that station. Fieldwork. This place is very spacious, many long benches are lined with colorful swings. Shady trees under which many young people are relaxing. The building has a wide expanse that is often used as a stall when holding an event. And lots of booths where traders sell used books. Not only that, a row of small stalls whose menu is very appetizing have also been available in that place.

He looked carefully, looking for the whereabouts of small ucul-pussel and a teacher parachuted paradise.

The gaze continued to be fluorescent until his bead was fixed on the hordes of children and some adults there who he believed that it was Fizhan's plot.

Fizhan's?

Hey where's that guy?

Why not look?

Was-was afraid of the wrong estimate finally the girl who is currently only monitoring from a far direction is now gradually closer to the object in question. He walked closer and closer. Until accidentally his hazel eyes found the figure of the man he was looking for earlier.

“Ah that's him.” Irene almost sumringah. Finally he was able to meet again with that gentle handsome figure.

"Well! Who is he with?” A black hooded woman poked from the other direction and found Fizhan who was focusing on compiling several piles of books scattered on the grass. Then they seemed to be talking about something familiar shortly after receiving something Irene could not estimate what kind.

Is that Aisha?

Ah not-not.

Aisyah is not like that her posture.

The girl he was seeing right now was level-headed, somewhat thin, white-skinned and had a familiar veil in Irene's eyes. Exactly like the style of the veil that is often used by Fatimah, her classmates.

Whahuh?

Who earlier?

Fatima?

Holy hooch!

The vow! The woman was indeed Fatimah.

It is fitting that during this class he said this afternoon there will be an event with his students in the City Center.

...***...

Seriate

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Healthy always yaaa 🤗