love in the wound
Chapter 11

In three days all Muslims around the world will welcome the holy month of Ramadan. As usual, young men and unmarried women are required to work together to clean the mosque.

I also attended routine activities that occur every year because the activities in my opinion are very noble.

"Nai, let's go!" elsa shouted my best friend from outside the house.

"Yes for a minute" I replied from inside. Today I grabbed a simple hijab and wore it. Although I have not fully endeavored to use it at least if out of the house I always wear it as my intention to learn to fix myself not to forget to also dress modestly to adjust my appearance.

"Oh my goodness, Nai. Your clothes are kegedean worth wearing these mothers." Elsa notices my situation.

"Let's do it" I replied pede.

We walked until we reached the Mushola. Everyone seems to be busy with all of these routines. They were so joking around that I chose to be quieter.

I am known to be quiet among them. That was all a lie. I'm not what they imagined at all.

"Nai, dong's story? how was your experience in town?" Alya seems curious.

"Ah what story? nothing interesting, El," I replied.

After that one word they go back to combing other things while working.

"Hey, hah ayem!" the ridicule of a man who suddenly called out to someone shocked me. I turned to look for the source of the voice and then I looked at all my friends in the back, maybe what he called was another friend of mine. But none of them returned the man's call.

He called again the same name. "Well, by the way, dong!" this time I saw the guy standing next to the door and made me ignore him again.

Who the hell is that guy? how weird is that?...

My mind wonders while I still ignore it. The third time He called again with the same name that from when he stood beside me.

"Cah ayem (quiet child) can contact?" the man I saw first extended a hand.

I am ashamed of them. Maybe my face is red. Ah, what a shame. The man in front of me is also handsome, who is he? and it doesn't seem like the villagers are here?

"Naima, Mas," I replied quietly but I let the man's hand float without reply. I'm moving away because I'm not ready to get to know a man anymore.

Yes, the young man is the same. He regrouped with the hordes of youths in the courtyard plucking the weeds.

The night after the Isya prayer, I chose to relax in the room while playing my phone.

Ting!

There's a message WA in. I wonder who sent it. My speed is not a chat from a number I don't recognize.

Assalamualaikum, uk...

that's the only word I read. Ah, that must be the prankster I thought. I didn't retaliate and let it go like the wind then.

Ting!

A chat came in again. Although trying not to care I am still interested in reading the contents.

Ukhti what are you doing now?...

Hadeh, I suddenly tremble. Who is this person who greeted me. Long throttled by many questions I was asleep while my phone was on.

In the morning I had no job looking for something new. With the money in my hands. I thought about what I could do so that the money would not be in vain.

Yes, in this village there are still many school children will definitely be very suitable if I sell stationery. Soon I met Mom to convey my wish.

"Mom, Naima wants to sell various school needs in front of the house. What do you think?"