It's Not Sleep That Makes Me Dream, But You
Chapter 16: Burning Shoes

" ... And if a double - decker bus Crashes into us

To die by your side Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck Kills the both of us

To die by your side Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine ... "

The Smiths's song from a laptop speaker filled my room, while I focused on the laptop screen. My fingers were agilely dancing on the keyboard, busy writing something.

It's a December night, at 22:15. It was raining outside and the wind was blowing quite hard. After dinner with my sister, I hurried to my room to work on a script that I had started working on a few weeks ago. Along with a cup of coffee and some sweet snacks on the table, I typed the script carefully.

At the age of 16 I was trying to pursue a dream to become a comic or novel writer. Even though I was still in 2nd grade High School, I was already thinking about what I would do in the future. I want to be a novel writer whose work is in many bookstores, or a comic writer with Adit. Our goal is absolute, dapet serialization weekly in Aneka Komik magazine.

I have sent the manuscript to several different publishers several times, but it has not been successful. Various forms of rejection I have received, ranging from the form of letters and phones. However, I still did not want to give up and continued to write stories. Although I want to give up and choose a mediocre life, my spirit to achieve the dream rose because of chatting with a fat pink shirt that I did not know at the school stop.

Two hours have passed since I started writing, I stopped the finger-to-finger movement over the keyboard, running out of ideas. This time I tried to write a comedy genre, after previously I wrote more about fighting. After I thought about it, I guess there is no harm in writing two different types of scripts for comic scripts, let Adit choose which one.

I stared blankly at the curtains of the room window hoping to find something inside my head, but none of the ideas came up. I took a breath and stopped writing. I then turn off the laptop, then stretch the body that does not do any other movement other than sitting bent for 2 hours.

It was still raining outside, but not as hard as before. After sipping coffee, I dropped myself on the bed, lying on my back looking up at the sky - the room sky. Then looking at the wall of the room that is attached to many pictures of Adit's work that I asked, I thought about the nervousness of what will be done the next day.

Tomorrow is Tuesday, one of my girl friends named Bunga invites to go to the music store to buy an acoustic guitar after school and I agree if I do not have busy.

Moments later, my HP located on the study desk rang loudly, someone was calling. Hearing the ringtone from HP, I rushed up from the bed, then walked up to the study table and checked HP, it was the call from Bunga, what a coincidence.

I immediately picked it up.

"Hallo... why?" Saying I.

"Where are you, tomorrow, not ?" Answer the flower from across there.

"God willing so, why would you go to the music store next door?" Ask me.

There was faint sound of Christmas music from the telephone connection, as if it was the background music for Bunga. Understandably, it's December and soon Christmas is coming. Looks like the flower is quite religious.

"Hmm.. don't know, maybe we try to come first one by one. I know a few places, yan, about . "

"How do you find a guitar?"

"When I explain, you won't understand, you don't understand music."

"Hehe, yeah." I scratched his hair, a little confused.

"Yaudah, tomorrow after school, I wait at the school gate! Look out for you when you go home." Flowers pose little threat.

"Eh, by the way, tomorrow at your ears yes, I want to confide!" Flower Shoots before you hang up.

I raised an eyebrow, frowned. I was confused.

The next day after school, I stood by the entrance gate watching the hordes of other students passing through the gate, hoping that one of them was Bunga, the warrior was really late.

I checked the watch several times while grumbling."Long time very flowers, but he who told me to wait here, damn," I told myself.

After almost an hour of waiting and the school atmosphere was almost quiet, Flowers came over. I just looked at my friend with a flat look. Actually, I'm quite upset but I can't be mad at Bunga.

While apologizing, "Hehehe." Flower cengenesan.

I just sighed, understood. "Where is it so long ?! "

"Riyan, I'm a band boy, don't need it from where, yes definitely gather with other band children, in the music room. You know, my friends are mostly all guys. All the old." The word flower in a subtle way, as if it were made - made.

Bunga is a rather tomboyish girl, her face oriental eyes are quite narrow, typical of Chinese-indo. la is quite good at playing guitar musical instruments, it makes her take the initiative to make her own band outside school. I and Bunga have been friends since sitting in 1st grade, now that we are in our second year at Broccoli High School, our friendship is still the same as before, or maybe it's even gotten closer since he found out that Olivia was my ex. It must be Olivia who is the story of the flower at home.

I stared at the Flower from head to toe. Flower hair is long enough to decompose straight until the middle of the back, his OSIS uniform looks messy, a sign never ironed, the, as well as the small cross-shaped earrings attached to her earlobes make the Flower look a little graceful. However, I feel awkward at the way Bunga wears his High School uniform. Instead of wearing an ash-gray skirt he was wearing grey trousers that should have been for male students . Worse still, Flowers do not shoes and only wear flip-flops.

"Pake some more trousers?" Ask me, I'm used to seeing flowers like this.

"Hehe. yes, more comfortable gini me, not complicated." Flowers replied while scratching his nose which suddenly itched.

We both walked to the school parking lot.

"Emang not tired what maen romp with teacher BK?" As I walked I continued the conversation.

"Capek anyway, but it's exciting to run around hehe..."

"Udah class 2 behavior is still so lo , I'm sure lo shoes must be confiscated by BK teachers because you are caught not wearing socks. Yes right?” I'm trying to guess.

While continuing to step, Bunga stared at his two feet wearing sandals. Then he turned his eyes to me and said,

"No, my shoes are burning."

"That's lying!" Obviously I can't believe how a pair of shoes that are always attached to the foot can burn. Obviously it was just a flower joke, I thought.

"Di said you don't believe. Entering the music room, I take off my shoes. Damn it, the temen was on a prank hiding my shoes in the garbage dump behind the school. My shoes in the grave among the trash, uh I don't know it today it's time to burn the trash, finally my shoes so go to the burn..."

Seriate...