Sacred In Stain
Open Fence!

Chapter 24. Open Fence!

Shrinking the remains of tears that soaked his face, with a faint crumbling feeling Khalisa rushed to clean all his clothes that were not much. After Dion broke their sacred bond with his chariot, and shouted him to leave tonight also from the roof which for four years has been his shelter.

Although he himself asked, it turned out that when the word divorce was thrown directly from the mouth of the man who had sworn a holy oath to him, like a poisonous arrow that shot quickly stuck right in his heart. Unspeakable pain, innumerable heat. Feeling only considered a piece of trash, knocked out of the throne of the once-promised queen of hearts, replaced by a more possessed one.

After his story with the man who had been flattered that he put in the highest place in his life. The man he used to believe looked at him differently, apparently both considered him worthless. It is no different from other humans who scorn because of the black stain note attached to it.

Khalisa did not have many friends or extensive association. More precisely no one wants to be friends with him, while his peers from the orphanage used to be, have lost contact long ago. The ins and outs of Bandung City was not so memorized. His childhood runs out isolated in a despised secluded orphanage. While growing up and out of the orphanage, Khalisa stuck in the house of the in-laws who only made him a servant without pay. Like a proverb, released from the tiger cage into the crocodile's mouth, such is his fate.

Although he did not know where to go, Khalisa was determined to leave this house right now. Get away from here, no longer let trampled self-esteem.

About his own goals Khalisa did not know. While sheltering in patrol posts is okay for tonight, and he will think about his next steps tomorrow morning. Believe there must be a way even though not sure because the material stock is not qualified. Although out there is also not safer and more comfortable, but it is better than considered raga without taste.

Replacing his torn clothes with another shirt, he stared at a negligent piece that he got full of struggle, a new cloth that he loved so much was torn everywhere. Quickly, he folded the torn negligee, put it in the old bag he had brought from the orphanage joined with other clothes. Pants made from used milk cans containing coins leftover shopping returns along with Khalisa jejalkan, as the capital stock, that's the only material he has.

Taking another bag is a baby bag that the father of the porridge seller gave as a gift when he gave birth to Afkar, Khalisa to the son's room which is located next to his room. A small room that is blocked using gypsum, divides the room that is not spacious it into two parts in order to make a private room for Afkar.

The inclusion of Afkar's clothes, the child's favorite toys that can be counted fingers, also do not forget the cardboard used in red and yellow food also brought Khalisa, Khalisa, as well as a pack of biscuits and a bottle of mineral water that Khalisa used to keep as an Afkar snack.

Wearing a jacket and stretching the tug on his body. Khalisa prepared to scoop up Afkar who was still asleep. Sitting on the side of the mattress, Khalisa rubbed the forehead of the son full of affection.

“Unfortunately Mommy,” he said slowly, his voice was raucous, clogging a lump of stuffy in the throat. “Force Mother, forgive the decision of Mother who parted with father, Son,” werent feeling guilty, has failed to maintain the integrity of parental status for her child.

Khalisa smothering his mouth firmly to hold the sound of crying so as not to wake the baby, Khalisa drew and breathed regularly trying to reduce his sobbing.

“We have to go from here. Mother no longer has a place in this house. Maafin Mommy, after this maybe Mommy will bring Af heat and rain first. Af must be strong yes, just be patient for a moment, accompany Mother. Mother promises, will fight as hard as possible for Afkar, so that not overheating and rain for too long.”

The door of his room was pushed violently, Dion standing in the doorway with a sharp highlight drawing out also the tip of his lips twitching, still covered in wrath.

“So, you're really going to leave tonight?” he underestimated Khalisa's guts.

“Ya,” says Khalisa briefly. Reply staring at the wound full of pain.

“Where do you want to go? Oh I forgot, you now must have a destination, where you sell yourself right?” cibir Dion.

Dion's face was red with emotion. Feel defeated. Because the innocent who usually bowed at his feet now refuted. Fishing his ego, not willing to accept his crushing defeat.

As Khalisa was about to carry Afkar, Dion grabbed his arm without warning, holding him back firmly.

“Please!” khalisa.

“Ceu Wati! Ceu Wati, get here fast!” in a loud voice Dion called out to the young wife's personal ART, ordering her to hurry.

“I-iya, Sir.”

“Cute that brown bag and bring it quickly out the fence. But not with a baby bag containing Afkar clothes!” he said while dragging Khalisa, pulling him out of the house.

The reluctant-looking Ceu Wati, reluctantly nodded and carried out the order. As Amanda said, now Dion is also her master. He is only a worker who depends on his work, has no effort despite his conscience yelling pity on the figure of Khalisa since he arrived at the house this afternoon.

“Leasin! What does all this mean?” sue Khalisa angry who is now outside the fence of the house.

“You came here just bringing yourself along with your shabby clothes. Means when you leave here is only alone accompanied by your clothes. You're the only one I've ordered to put your feet up, but not Afkar. You do not allow me to bring Afkar, lady jal*ng!” hiss Dion sharp. Closing the half-slammed fence and locking it, galloping back in after dropping more devastating after-bombs than before.

Khalisa. “A-what does this mean?” for a few seconds Khalisa was in shock. I did not expect this to be the situation all of a sudden. “Ke-why is this?” dazed muttering.

“No, no,” he said shaking his head, his breath hunting irregularly.

“Open the fence! Open this fence!” Khalisa shouted, pounding the fence with his weak power. Panic isn't a bitch, don't know what to do.

“I beg you to open this fence! Let me take my son, I don't ask for anything as a divorced wife, but please, let me take my son!”

His brain was dead instantly. His whole body was shaking violently. His feet seemed to no longer tread the earth when the life of his soul, the twinkle of his life, and the axis of his world were forcibly snatched from his hands.

“Open the fence asshole! Give me my son, give me my son!” his screams were heartbreaking, roaring pitifully. Screaming like crazy without anyone noticing. The neighbors only peeked at a glance through the gaps of the curtains and doors, sneering in satisfaction. No one empathizes, feels most holy.

Seriate.