Story of Mystery Story
Mystery of Red Color in Sonja's Room

"Damn!" Arman is upset. The car he was driving broke down on the way, when it was late afternoon, and now he was in the middle of a plantation far from housing.

Initially everything went well, this morning he visited his grandmother in one area approximately two hours drive from where he lived. By driving his old car confident Arman traveled alone, besides the car was not long ago he served.

The time to leave was not found a problem, even he was happy to meet his grandmother and relatives. By the end of the afternoon he decided to go home, because tomorrow he must have gone to work.

Maybe he was stupid, he thought. Obviously the time to leave on the route is crowded with smooth road conditions, uh the time of the journey home was instead decided to take another route, the route through the rubber plantation with the road looks good the first 1 km, the road looks good, but the next hole. Ah, basic apes. his car can no longer go through heavy terrain, and finally broke down.

Arman is not an expert engine, which he knows only to drive it, from back and forth the opening of the hood of the car engine, do not know also want to be valued again the car. Surprised he, since no one had passed through the streets there, to whom now he wanted to ask for help?

The sky was dark, it was past Maghrib apparently. Arman stood beside the car while looking at the surrounding atmosphere. Is it really a test for him to spend the night in the middle of such a large plantation area tonight?

While he was confused, his watchful eyes saw a light far away, a light that came from the middle of the plantation area. Is there a house in the middle of the farm? Try to pay more attention. Aye! It was light, either from an oil lamp or an electric lamp, but Arman was convinced it was light. Then most likely there is indeed a place of residence or some kind of post in the middle of this plantation area.

If he spent the night in Arman's car afraid that there are unwanted things, such as such a bad person, then he hastily picked up the bag of rangsel that he brought, it is good for him to go to the light, it doesn't seem too far away, if it's true that there are people living, at least he can ride in shelter, or ask for help finding someone who can fix his car.

Arman stepped slowly, afraid of tripping over the creeping roots. There is a path he found, adding to the belief Arman did live on the plantation. About fifteen minutes walk, now Arman standing in front of a house. It is not expected that he will find a large enough house. The house in front of him is a big house model stage, below there is a kind of ladder to go up.

"Excuse me!" arman said greeting. Momentary silence. Shortly thereafter, footsteps approached. The footsteps stopped in front of the door.

"Who?" one voice asked.

"I'm the master, my name is Arman, I'm late, my car broke down in the middle of the road" Arman explained to the landlord not to be suspicious.

The door opened, looking in front of Arman an old man stood up. The old man was wearing a black skullcap, and had a beard that started to whiten. Arman smiled kindly. The owner did not return his smile, just looking at Arman from head to toe as if he was fanciful.

"Where is ananda?" ask the man.

"I'm new from my grandmother's place, sir.." Then Arman explained himself to the old man.

After hearing Arman's explanation, the man was bearded, "So you mean looking for a place to stay?"

"God if you're allowed, or at least you can help me find someone who can fix my car".

The old man smiled, "Our house is far from everywhere, it's hard to find someone who can help you son, maybe tomorrow morning, come in, let's have a chat inside," the old man apparently began to soften, opening the door wide so that the Arman could enter.

Arman went inside, into a living room. There was a long chair made of teak wood carving there, and on the wall was a large portrait, which seemed to have been a long time. The old man let Arman sit down. Immediately he shook his butt in the existing seat, removing the fatigue he had felt since.

The old man went inside without saying anything. Left alone Arman tried to observe all the existing furniture. In the corner there is a miniature temple, on the wall to the left there is a kind of decoration of a bow and arrow, apparently the owner of the house of people who like antiques. Arman's attention turned towards the large portrait that was on the long chair. Portrait of three people, two adults, and one teenage girl who is beautiful and has a cheerful smile. Of the three people photographed Arman already knew one of them, although younger was photographed, but Arman recognized that one of the people in the portrait was the old man. Family painting, that's the conclusion.

Arman could not pay too long attention to the state of space, the old man had returned, now he was not alone, accompanied by a middle-aged woman. The woman even carried a tray of drinks and snacks in her hand. Deftly the woman immediately arranged the drinks and food that she brought on the table.

"Please son, drink, do not be shy, you know," said the woman offering very kindly.

Arman was a little clumsy, "Yes Ma'am, it's a hassle, thank you ma'am".

The hostess smiled. Arman has no trouble imagining, this woman was once very beautiful when young, because the remnants of her beauty are still thick.

Respecting the host Arman immediately sipped a warm drink served.

From the conversation with the two hosts, a lot of things Arman knew. Apparently they have lived in that place for a long time, even the house is a legacy from their parents. The old man named Pak Sukmo was a retired official, he really liked the peaceful natural atmosphere, as well as his wife. Arman was interested in asking about the teenage girl in the photo, but Mr. Sukmo always switched the conversation to another about each he offended the photo. While his wife used to be a dancer, but once married to Mr. Sukmo, he focused on taking care of the household. A good wife apparently.

The house was quite large, there were several rooms after the living room. Grateful Arman met such a kind host, welcomed him well, treated him with dinner, allowed him to stay the night, even promising to find someone who could fix his car tomorrow morning.

After eating Arman began to sleepy, the host responded with the state of Arman. "Last night, son, let me take you to the bedroom we've prepared."

"Yes sir." replied Arman as he stalked Mr. Sukmo's steps, they stepped into the L-shaped room of the house, there were two rooms there, one room was opened, "This is his room, this is his room, hopefully Ananda can sleep well tonight" he said with a smile.

Arman noticed the other room was closed, the room was unique, there was a kind of flower strung up in front of the door.

"That's our son's room." explained Mr. Sukmo.

"Oh, yes sir, sorry, well sir, thank you, I rest first," said Arman after being caught stealing a glance. Mr. Sukmo just nodded slowly, then stepped away from Arman.

The door was closed after Mr. Sukmo left. The room he occupied was quite clean, with a bed that was quite relieved for one person. According to him, Mr. Sukmo's house is really antique, the stilt house is made of wood, with wood that seems sturdy. Arman took off the shirt he was wearing leaving a T-shirt inside, try to lay his body while staring at the roof made of woven bamboo. His anger then floated, he remembered with his grandmother, the smile of his grandmother who was peaceful, the old grandmother he did not visit because of all the busyness. That is, sometimes everything is not until we do it, if we do not intend and take the time. Still remember Arman, when he was a child, the grandmother often stayed at his house, often told him about the stories of the past, always changing the story, extraordinary women.

Eh, Arman's daydream is disturbed, because suddenly his ears like hearing the music sounding soft, try to ignore it, but again he was disturbed, the sound of music as if coming from a place near, the sound of music was, Arman sat from his sleep on the edge of the bed. Her ears. The sound of music was again heard, the sound of classical music that sounded soft. Where the hell did he think? Did Mr Sukmo turn it around? The feeling from the afternoon they chatted was not a single conversation that showed Mr. Sukmo interested in music.

The sound of classical music was slow, but Arman's curiosity that made him unable to return closed. After a long period of sharpening his hearing, Arman began to believe that the sound of music came from the next room. Pak Sukmo's children's room. Arman smiled, maybe Mr. Sukmo's son from the afternoon asleep, and now he has woken up, then played a classic song.

Basic Arman is still young at heart, he has seen the portrait of the son of Mr. Sukmo. Beautiful and sweet teenage girl, then with a fad fumbled wall that borders with the next room, who knows the discovery of a small hole to peek. Not that he was rude, just making sure it was right or not the sound of the music from the next room, no more than that.

Somewhat long looking not found a single hole, until he accidentally shifted the calendar hanging on the wall. He saw a hole the size of a little finger there. Then only the date was taken, and carefully his eyes peeked into holes. What'sthat!? Arman saw nothing, he only saw red. I opened his eyes, then tried to peek again. The result was the same, he only saw red. I don't think Arman why he only sees red?

He hung up the calendar again, and again he sat contemplating, why is it only red that he saw? The sound of classical music grew louder and eventually stopped. The mood was silent again. Still covered in question marks he spread his body, in curiosity Arman was asleep.

The next morning after the shower the host brought breakfast. "Let's Arman, sarapa is ready."

They had breakfast without conversation, until Sukmo opened his mouth, "How did Arman sleep last night? The lurch?"

Mr. Sukmo laughed happily, as well as his wife who looked happy. "Good, that's what we expect from a guest, to be comfortable in our house."

"But sir, there's one thing I want to ask you.."

"Please son, what is it?' reply Mr. Sukmo while spooning his gully rice.

"Did Sukmo play classic songs last night?" asked Arman.

Unexpectedly, the question made the host stop eating. The two looked at each other with tense and restless faces that could not be covered.

"Sorry son, what did you hear?"

"Pack's music, classical music."

Back the look of uneasiness emanated from the two hosts. "Lantas.. uh, nothing else, right?" ask Mr. Sukmo.

"No sir, just I was curious, sorry sir, the sound of the music was as if from the next room, from the father's daughter's room," replied Arman.

"Be..really?" respond Pak Sukmo surprised.

Arman wondered why the expressions of the two hosts were so shocked to hear what he was going through. Therefore he continued, "True sir, and frankly I was curious, I decided to take a peek last night, did that voice indeed come from the princess' room sir..?"

"Ap.. what did you see!?" ask Mr. Sukmo's wife half hysterically.

Arman coughed a little, he thought the host was angry for his sassiness, "No ma'am, I don't mean to be presumptuous, I just make sure, after all I don't see anything, just... "

"What is nanda..?" fretfully, Mr. Sukmo.

"It's only red." replied Arman slowly.

The hostess immediately screamed at Arman's reply. Crying and running to the back room. Arman really did not expect his words would have such an effect, did not know what he was going to say, he looked at Mr. Sukmo for a moment. Mr. Sukmo returned his gaze at a glance and bowed, then with a lethargic face woke up from his seat, and followed his wife backwards.

Long enough Arman sat in the dining room, he did not continue his breakfast, his appetite was lost over the incident. After waiting for the host not to come out, he decided to go to the living room. Ah, it is unexpected that what he told seemed to change all the family atmosphere between him and Mr. Sukmo. He nagged himself, why he was so presumptuous to peek last night, and more than that he told me anyway, is not every family must have a secret. That stupid fool.

After a long wait, Mr. Sukmo finally came out to see him, his wife also participated. It looks like Mr. Sukmo managed to calm his battered wife with Arman's story. They try to smile kindly, even if not the same smile again.

Arman stood up.

"Don't nanda, sit down." prevent Mr. Sukmo.

Arman sat down.

Mr. Sukmo and his wife sat down, at a glance Mr. Sukmo looked at the photo behind him, after sighing and then saying, "It seems we have to tell some things to nanda over the incident that nanda experienced last night."

Arman waited silently.

Mr. Sukmo took a deep breath, as if what he was about to tell something very heavy to tell.

"Let's know, kid, this photo on the wall is a picture of us and our family."

Arman nodded, he had already guessed.

"The grown man and the grown woman was me and my wife, and the teenage girl in the middle was our son, Sonja by name.."

Back Mr. Sukmo took a deep breath. "Our son Son is a puppet, a child we love very much.. Growing up as a teenage girl, with incredible willpower and ideals.." For a moment he glanced at the face of his wife who was back in tears.

"Do you know what the goal is?" ask Mr. Sukmo rhetorically. "He wants to be a dancer.. His mother's flowing blood makes him talented to dance, we as parents are certainly happy and supportive, even to realize his ideals we send him to the city, where the dance school he likes there.."

"What dance does he like, sir..?" ask Arman to cut.

"He loves ballet." replied Mr. Sukmo briefly. She continued, "He is very happy and excited about our support, and believes his dream of becoming a ballet dancer will be realized.. But unfortunately, he failed to achieve his dream," Mr. Sukmo sighed again.

"So Sonja always moody, the persuasion we both did not make him back cheerful, the less he ate, the more thin, he hurt nanda... finally our son died.." sad tone of the story Mr. Sukmo.

Arman was pensive, he really could not believe what Mr. Sukmo was telling, what a sad story. It is fitting that both hosts were shaken by her story last night about her daughter's room. There was a creeping unease in Arman's body, and he asked, "What exactly caused the master princess to fail to become a ballet dancer?"

"He hurt his eyes." replied Mr. Sukmo.

"Why his eyes..?" ask Arman curiously.

"His eyes are red..." Mr. Sukmo replied weakly.

The deg! Arman's heart was shaking. Red eyes? So last night he peeked into Sonja's room, it turns out Sonja was also peeping at him....

So-called.