The Horror Story
Shard

Jono was still faithfully wet in the small river. While occasionally complaining because of the thorn child on the edge of the time that pierced his arm. His two thick arms seemed to be moving in the water. Making the turbid river water surface move undulating.

With a single lift, Jono's hands raised one full sand-streak of times. Drips of river water from the shell fell and soaked his black face.

He spilled the contents of the shell along with other sand dunes that he estimated if sold for more than two hundred thousand. It had been imagined in his mind spending the money from dredging sand that time with a routine that he really liked. Drinking at Srini's shop. Small stalls on the edge of the village will not even look like a stall if the night is not crowded with visitors.

Like moths that grind neon at night, men - farmers, laborers, or sand-seekers like Jono - will fill the place as dusk falls. Starting from the invitation of his neighbor, Marno, Jono began to frequent Srini stalls. In addition to being addicted to Javanese whiskey, Arak, his young blood is always driven to the crown once he sees the face of Srini ayu. The flower widow is what actually pulls her every night into the shop like a magnet pulling a needle.

Jono let out a heavy breath into the air. He threw his body into the sand dune he had gathered from the morning. In the light of a kretek cigarette that he slipped on his shirt earlier. In his suction deep smoke from the rest of the salvation cigarette. The next second the smoke billowed loosely carrying with it some of the burden that restrained his mind.

In his house which was only a patch, lay his old mother. Her mother's body, which seven years ago was plagued by lung cancer. Jono had long given up trying to catch his mom's breath. Now only the neighbor's compassion makes his mother's heart still beat.

I better have fun, Jono thought.

Kretek's death. He stood up and walked towards the river, intending to continue his work. Just one step of his foot went into the water, something sharp pierced the soles of his feet.

“ah, dancuk!”, his curse shocked. He fell into the sand he gathered. Sudden pain and pain hit his leg. While enduring the pain, Jono examined what was piercing the soles of his feet. A bell that was about the length of a finger stuck in the flesh.

While the blood continued to drip, Jono limped back to his home. However, just before Marno's house, Jono collapsed. Too much flowing from his body. Marno's wife, shocked to see her neighbor lying on the street, immediately called her husband. Both of them put Jono's body into the house.

Jono's eyes were heavy. Slowly, he opened his eyes. All still faintly visible in Jono's eyes.

“brother Jono? You are familiar?”, asked a strange voice in his ear.

“this where?”, Jono asked back. Slowly the lines that formed the silhouette of that person started to clear.

“in the hospital, you just rest first.”, said the doctor.

“ah, how can you?”, asked Jono astonished.

“your neighbor brought you here.. Please rest.”, the doctor stepped away.

Jono's mind was pawing. Hospital administration must be extraordinarily expensive. And Marno won't be able to pay for him.

Jono sighed.

The next day, the doctor delivered bad news. The crack of the shard at Jono's feet could not be removed at all. They tried everything, but it didn't work. The doctor referred to a large hospital in the capital. But what power, the money that was originally for fun yesterday has run out.

Now he was just lying near his mother who was also helpless. Between conscious and not, Jono's mind drifted. It was like flying to a place. A place he knew. He faintly saw two men who were fighting in the river he used to dredge sand. One man he recognized as Srini's husband, and another one holding a bottle of Arak. Jono squinted his eyes. Marno?

Martha's hand was raised. A glass bottle filled with beer inevitably hit Srini's husband's head. He also collapsed along with sticking pieces of shard at his temple. One of the pieces fell into the river. Marno nervous. As fast as lightning he lifted his foot from the place.

Jono could only see. Lips locked.

Jono's spirit is back up. His soul was as light as cotton as it was pulled by a thread that led to his body. Jono woke up with a wave. Blurred vision. Thought absentminded. Suddenly his sight became clear. Srini's dead husband sat in front of her. The figure shoved his pale wet face with the broken bottle still stuck in his head.

Jono screamed loudly. No matter the pain in his leg, he continued to run down the rickety door of his house until it came out.

“Setaan..! Setaaan.!”, racau Jono.

A moment of the villagers gathered. Marno was among them. He approached Jono.

“Ono opo, No?”, asked Marno.

Jono looked at Marno.

“Jagal..!!”, he said indistinctly while pointing the finger at Marno.

“Srini..!!

A butcher! Srini..!”, the citizens stared at Jono in wonder. Marno looked annoyed with Jono's words. He suddenly disappeared from the crowd. Residents also finally snatched up Jono who began to falter. They put poor Jono in a goat pen belonging to a resident. At midnight that night too. In the middle of the pair Jono just curled up while continuing to rumble.

Suddenly the figure of Srini's husband even appeared again. Jono screamed hysterically until he finally fainted.

The first rooster just sounded. The black figure was sneaking into the goat pen belonging to a resident. His hand was holding a glass bottle. The cage door creaked and let the black figure approach Jono who was only half conscious.

The black figure's hand seemed to be raised. He swung the glass bottle in his hand to Jono's head firmly. Jono squealing.

“JAGAAALL...!!!!”

END_

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