The Struggle of a Child
Cruelness
My father still holds the photo. He was so glued to her. The photo of the wife who had long left and had long been in his storage was back to open her memory.
"Dad, that's why it's kept?" I was curious to follow my father from behind.
"This is what I have to keep so that later you can see your mother's face, after the big one" said my father, saving the photo back into the plastic.
I immediately blushed to hear it. My dad tied the plastic back up firmly. "Son, this photo can't be lost. This is the only relic for you," my father said staring at me.
I heard it as if I was sad. The face of the Mother we have longed for is like that. I kept remembering that face despite not being so satisfied.
That sweet and gentle face had touched the heart. Her soft face seemed to be a tranquilizer.
"Dad, why wait for us to grow up?" I suddenly wanted to know. Stand up straight taking the broom that is located.
"Because now, you're still small and you don't understand the times yet" said my father standing with a slightly tight face.
I took the broom and came out of his room. I put that broom behind the door.
"Liyan, if you want to learn don't forget, find your sister first! And tell him to study, too" my father asked me.
"Yes, Dad" I replied.
I went into the room to check it out. Is my brother there or not? I took a dry bag and a dry book, and I put it on the bed.
I went out wearing sandals looking for my sister. Along the road I have been on, I have not found him.
"Did you see, Ana?" ask the child I don't know.
"No, brother," they answered.
I walked back to look for him. I looked at the road I was going through. Suddenly I remembered Rahmadani. I immediately swung my foot across his house. Suddenly I walked back slowly considering that Widia is the older sister of Rahmadani. Between the same rejects I walk in the branched mind.
"Rahmadani!" I shouted loudly calling him in the middle of the road.
"Yes Brother. Brother called?" rahmadani asked, turning around to see me while sucking on a candy stalk.
"Is Ana with you?" aska I want to know.
"Sister Brother. Ana hasn't played with me in a long time" she told me.
I immediately nodded to hear it. I've been out looking for him for a long time. I walked a lot just to take her home.
But again I held my bare hands. To this day I have not found him. The whole alley of the house I have come one by one. Even the homes of children I didn't know I went to. Not one house escaped me, not even missed.
The screaming sounds of the children playing I noticed one by one. My hearing and vision were sharpened to watch him.
"Sister, Ana doesn't exist" said one of the children who knew I was always looking for my sister.
"Yes, thank you" I replied shouting from afar in this scorching, blinding sun.
"Sister should go home. Before it rains" they said.
I heard him swing my legs back home. I felt bad when I saw the walls of our house. My sister's face teased this afternoon.
The door of the house was also wide open. I'm getting curious about mixed up question marks. Standing looking down exactly under the door. I was stunned when I saw there were girls sandals located.
I remembered for a moment that there were no flip-flops. These must be my sister's slippers, I thought.
I hurriedly pushed down the door with my left hand while swinging my right leg peeking in from outside.
"Liyan!" call my mom to me as if she can feel that it's me.
"Where have you been? Even the house you sweep is not clean" he said screeched.
I was shocked to hear it. I was like a dream.
"Take a look at that in the kitchen! In front of this. All sandy. I'd rather step on it," he said. Gawking.
Curious to know, curious, I went in and saw him. It turned out that what my mother told me was true. The wonder mixed in disbelief I was getting deeper into staring at him.
"This you say clean!" he said loudly pointing at the floor.
I dare not say anything. The floor was clean, why did it get dirty again? This condition increasingly enveloped my deep sense of anxiety.
It's like a dream of a clean floor now suddenly sandy. This view is so astounding.
"Why can't you be clean, huh? If you want to play. This house you should have wiped clean. Don't play around!" screech with a raise while throwing a broom. "Quick that broom! Don't just stand there! I'm tired of seeing you for a long time!" attack with a wail that drains tears.
Sad to be mixed in fear I lowered my head to pick up the broom that was thrown to the floor.
Hands along with tears that had dripped accompanied the sweep today.
"Sweep clean! Not a single bit of sand was stepped on me, "the screech is rising.
The scream entered through the empty room just like that. I was dragging a broom while listening to what he said from afar.
"Smoke from there!" his orders pointed at the corner behind the door. He who was standing at the middle door was watching me closely. I felt very nervous when I saw it from the tail of the eye.
He's getting tight watching me. Every sweep of mine he glanced at her sharply.
I am not learning yet. After coming home from outside looking for my sister. I immediately got a sharp attack from the figure of a surrogate mother.
The attack severely hampered my schedule of learning. Half the floor was clean I wiped. There's not a single one left.
"That again. Sweep from under the table, quick!" his screams were getting louder and harder to attack.
I went back backwards dragging my feet and broom saw the under the table that was said by him.
"Don't stop you, before you're ready!" he said clearly.
I also kept sweeping it repeatedly. Look at every angle you see.
"Can't eat, if it's not ready!" he stung it very cruelly.
I was crying more and more in my heart. The little me has to face all this. The little boy who should have received this affection and attention even got a sharp attack of words that threatened the joy as a child.
The opportunity to play and learn was immediately lost only homework and screams and harsh words mixed with spicy more often greet.
"Slowly sweep it, don't rush! You won't be able to eat if it's still dirty" he said. "Be careful it breaks! That's expensive. Your pocket money can't replace it," he mocked with insults.
"What do you want, you sell? Your shabby shoes!" satirize with spicy.
I still remember the mother I met. If he were still around I might have gotten his affection.
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