Love In War
?

Many, one word that reveals this place. A lot of people pass by here. Everywhere there are merchants who offer their luggage. Sumringah smiles and friendly greetings are also unflagging from the residents who come to change.

As in ancient times, women used kebaya and batik sarongs as well as their hair. Looks beautiful and natural.

"Laila?" I turned my head when I heard someone calling such a familiar name in my ear.

The man ran over to the figure of the woman who was waving her hand.

"Have you been waiting a long time?" ask the man.

The woman shook her head, smiling sweetly even though her face was faint." Nah! I just got there."

Not yet the two men left, the sound of gunfire was heard blaring in the air. Several troops with green berets surrounded the place. The bustling, warm, and joyful atmosphere instantly turned gripping, frightening, silent, quiet silent. What's more when a foreign man thrusts his rifle into the head of an old man who's been consumed by age.

I suddenly looked up when I heard a foreign voice coming from Sumatra. The blue sky covered with white clouds, now turned gray as several warplanes flew under it, not even the birds dared to approach.

The sound of sirens echoed in every corner. What's this really about?

Residents were running around, colliding with each other avoiding attack after attack launched.

Where is this actually? What the hell's going on? That's what I have in mind right now. Wasn't I still trying to sleep?

Shouts, cries of tears, echoed in all corners of the village accompanied by the sound of gunshots being fired.

Cars and tanks also came to change. Stomp on the bodies of bombed residents as well as gunfire with their tanks. The white soldier went down, carrying a gun, shooting at anyone who was still there. No doubt war is inevitable.

"Decide. Freemen. Allah Akbar!" shouted the man in shabby clothes while waving the red and white saka.

A soldier smiled as he slanted his gun towards the man, until blood flowed through his stomach.

Seeing the increasingly chaotic situation of the man with a red and white emblem on his hat gave the command and cue to his allies to retreat.

Deaths fell and scattered everywhere. Just a few meters away the residents were walking, again they were attacked by a bomb dropped from the sky.

"Come on," cried the man in the brownish uniform.

Terrified. It was clear from their faces. Looking up at the enemy fighter aircraft that had gone.

My eyes narrowed when I saw the silhouette of someone's body enter the forest. Hurry up, I follow their steps. The man stopped the movement of his legs when the woman was no longer able to walk. I tried to get close to them, but it couldn't be like there was a wall in the way. The two-insa face was too faint, so I could not see it clearly. The man was like he was saying something, but again I couldn't hear what they were saying.

He helped the woman to sit and lean on the tree trunk. Now, I can see, though the faint blood is coming out of the woman's stomach.

"Wait a minute." Only that sentence could I hear from the lips of the man now passing in front of me. But, strangely enough I couldn't even touch her.

What the hell is going on? That sentence kept spinning in my mind. I'm confused where I am and why can't I touch anything?

"God…." That roast ring diverted my attention back to the woman.

I moved closer towards him, for some reason I could also feel the pain he was feeling.

Why can't I see his face? Although I could see the woman's pale lips quivering, she seemed to want to say a word, but it was difficult. Blood kept dripping from his stomach, until it soaked the kebaya he was wearing.

I shook my head as the man with the green beret pointed a gun at the woman leaning against the coconut tree.

I beg you not! It was useless because no one could hear my voice.

Whether it's a miracle or not, but now I can see their faces. I closed my mouth when I saw the woman's face. His face is very similar to mine.

He looks like he's dying. Holding his stomach, holding the blood back from continuing to come out.

Their blue and brownish eyeballs meet. The woman put on a smile behind the growing pain. Maybe this is the end of his life. Or the end of my life?

The soldier's hand was shaking. His eyes never turned away from the woman's face.

The man closed his eyes, slowly he pulled the trigger.

Till….

I woke up when the shot was fired. Say Istighfar, and wipe the cold sweat that has poured out from the forehead to the temple.

Did that woman die?

Many times I say Istighfar, shaking my head is just a dream. Yeah, it's just an Araya sleeping flower.

In Islam alone the dream is divided into three; the first Ru’ya Al Hasanah (Ru’ya Ash Shalihah) is a good dream. This dream comes from Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala.

Characteristics, the dream is happy, joyful, liked, without thought or daydreaming before.

When he woke up, his heart rejoiced in the dream.

Second, Ru’ya As Sayyi’at (Ru’ya at Tahzin Min Asy Syaithan) Is a nightmare. It came from syetan.

The dream is frightening, sad, or disturbing, without thought or forethought.

And the third, Haditsu An Nafsi is a dream that comes from the mind or imagination. This is what happens most often. That is, when someone is thinking about something or has a certain imagination, it then appears in the dream world.

“When one of you has a dream with a dream he does not love, then let him spit left three times, take refuge in God from the devil's interference three times.” (HR. Muslim).

My eyes were wide when the sun had already revealed its light, entering through the cracks of the bamboo wall. I hurried to wake up those who were asleep to perform the dawn prayer.

"Are you sure you don't want breakfast first?" ask the mother is friendly.

I shook my head, smiled."Thank you, ma'am, but we're still full" I said in a friendly reply. Not wanting to refuse sustenance, only, my tongue was not used to the food he was serving.

After saying thank you and saying thank you, we continued our journey.

"City." That voice, I ventured to look back. There's no one there. But, when I looked back to the front, I had not found them— my friends.

Where the hell did they go?