The Skewers House

The Skewers House
Bridal painting


After cleaning the living room and the room on the first floor, Prambudi headed to the kitchen. Citra is busy preparing breakfast for this morning. Fortunately, yesterday Prambudi had bought some cooking utensils and groceries, so this morning was not confused about what to eat. While Amanda looks carefree playing with the Kity.


“Mas?,” Citra calls Prambudi gently.


“What is Cit?,” Sahut Prambudi approaching Citra.


“By the way Mas Pram has money for rent, buy cookware, groceries and all kinds of our needs. Mas Pram get money from where?,” Citra ask full search.


“Oh, the. Anu . . . I used to have savings in the orphanage, brought by the caretaker and yesterday did not take it,” Prambudi answered his wife's question while looking dreamy. His eyes were empty towards the back window.


“Mas, the upper room has not been cleaned lhoo,” Citra reminded Prambudi.


“Later later, it looks like a lot of rats there,” Prambudi replied, Citra is disgusted.


DRRTTT DRRTTT DRTTT


HP Image vibrated, a phone came in.


“Mother calls Mas, how is it?,” Citra looks panicked.


“Ya lift dong, by the way we move. But do not tell us first our address here,” Prambudi take water, then drink it. Citra nodded in agreement, then picked up the phone from her mother.


“Hallo, . .,” Citra picked up the phone.


“Cit, where are you Nak?,” Mrs Doto sounded riled up.


“Why are your clothes in the room not there, Amanda too, the Kity is also not there, where are you?,” Mrs Doto told Citra with questions.


“We moved Mother. Citra wants to live independently with Mas Pram same small family Citra itself,” Reply Citra Kalem.


“This must be because of the Budi, right? Son-in-law did not know it was lucky!,” Madam Doto this time sounded explosive, angry.


“Nggak Bun, this is not Mas Pram's fault. This has been the decision of Citra as well, Citra wants the household Citra happy Mother,” Citra does not want her husband to be blamed for their move.


“But Citra, you will be hard on your life if the same husband kere it!,” Mrs Doto still can not accept the decision of Citra.


“Stop Mother, stop. Don't talk ugly about Mas Pram, don't insult Mas Pram. Mas Pram Citra's husband, because mother like this Citra so more sure to go from the house Mother,” Citra this time out of patience, she half snapped.


“Oke, now tell Mommy . . . Where do you live?,” Mrs Doto is heard holding her speech, so as not to explode again.


“Sorry Mother, for now Citra has not been able to tell. Do’a in your son is happy, and your daughter-in-law is successful with her work,” Citra ends her speech and hangs up.


There was a pungent smell suddenly piercing the nose. Fried sambal cooked by Citra turned gosong.


“Yah Mas, the cooking I burnt,” Citra pouted looking at her husband, Prambudi chuckled, her laughter broke.


“The cook was heart-wearing, not emotion-wearing,” Prambudi was still laughing.


“Lha Mas also did not help you, ah,” Citra still frowning.


“Sorry yes, I was busy daydreaming the same seeing that the Manda was very fun toy with the Kity,” Prambudi stood near Citra, then landed a kiss on her forehead.


“Keep, what do we want to eat Mas?,” Tanya Citra, staring at Prambudi.


“Eat kamuu,” Prambudi poking Citra's nose pointed.


“Iiihhhhhh . .,” Citra pinches Prambudi's stomach, gnash.


“Auuwww, Citra pain,” Prambudi complain. Imagery chuckles.


“Judah, gini aja deh. We go to the owner of this house, to the place Mbah Kadir,” Prambudi gave an idea.


“Ngapain Mas?,” Citra asked, scrunched his forehead.


“Mas, I want to see the room above dong,” the image arrived just divert the conversation.


“Emm, let's not inter,” Prambudi thought for a moment, then agreed.


“Amanda toy with Kity here first yes,” Citra talk to Amanda. Amanda nodded in agreement.


Prambudi and Citra walked up the stairs next to the kitchen. The second floor room consists of two rooms. The second floor room felt stuffy and unkempt. The nest of profit sticks where. Prambudi opened one of the rooms, empty nothing there. There is a balcony outside the room facing towards the back of the house. The image of walking and standing on the balcony, the air feels fresh and cool. It looks like a river with clear water and large rocks not far behind the house. Rural rivers that make Citra amazed.


“Mas, it's a nice river, clear water,” Citra points to the river, tells Prambudi.


“Yes, but still clear and clear your skin Dear,” Prambudi clutched his wife from behind.


“Ah, dreadlocks!,” The image of a spoiled smile.


The image turned to the right where it stood. There's a window from the next room.


“That's the next room window huh Mas. Why is there no balcony of that room?,” Citra asked Prambudi.


“Emm, yes. The room cannot be opened. Mbah Kadir said the key was missing. You do not approach the room . .,” Prambudi looks serious with his words.


“Why?,” Citra asks full search.


“Many mice dear,” Parmbudi replied by whispering in Citra's ear.


“Hiiiii,” Citra begidik goosebumps, not because imagining a mouse but because the breath of her husband hit the nape of his neck.


Glodakk!


A sound of falling objects was heard loudly from the bottom floor. Prambudi and Citra looked at each other in silence.


“Amanda!,” Prambudi and Citra shout together. They ran out of the room and down the stairs. They're worried that the sound of that falling thing is Amanda.


“Amanda? Amanda?,” Call Citra while running.


Prambudi and Citra ran towards the kitchen. Empty, Amanda's not there.


“Amanda? Amanda's? Where are you son?,” Citra screamed in panic.


“Iya Maahhh ..,” Reply Amanda. Amanda's voice came from the living room.


Prambudi and Citra immediately ran into the living room. They found Amanda standing alone in the living room.


“You okay what Nak?,” Citra asked riled, holding Amanda.


“No pa pa Mahh,” Amanda replied in a flat tone.


“Terus earlier Mamah heard there was a falling sound, mamah thought Amanda fell you know,” Citra looked at her little daughter.


“Ohhh, that was the one that fell. Manda was also surprised Mah,” Amanda pointed at the wall in the middle of the living room.


The painting of a faceless bride fell face down on the floor. Prambudi then took it, leaning it against the wall.


“Waahh, his nails are outdated, dislodged it,” Prambudi observed the wall where the previous painting hangs.


“Later untrue,” Prambudi smiled towards his wife and son.


“Yaudah, let's be ready. To Mbah Kadir's house, borrow a motorbike and keep going. Buy breakfast, I'm hungry,” Prambudi took Citra to immediately leave the painting bride without face. The image inexplicably still cringed as it stared at the painting, something strange.


CONNECT . . .