The Struggle of a Child
The marbles behind my sadness
My sister still insisted on not giving me the P3K medicine box. He hates me so much he goes to the crown.
"I won't love him" said my sister hatefully. Staring at me cynically.
"But Brother's leg is sick," I groaned back. The knee that has not healed.
"Udah I said, I do not want to give this to Brother," continued my sister firmly hugging the P3K box.
Tears are getting dripping. I look hysterical now until the sound of crying fills this room. "Ayaaah," I said calling out my father's name wryly as I raised my head to look towards the locked door from the outside. "Ayaaaah," called me again while wiping the tears with one of my right hand while holding the sobs that came out.
"Sister can't call Dad. Dad's working again," scolded my sister not happy to frown. "Later Dad fell, if Brother called him," he said.
Huhuhuhu !
I am so sad that tears are not stopped anymore. The door that was still locked from the outside was still being stared at in the hope that my father would come and hold me.
Huhuhoo!
I kept crying on my sister's chatty face. The right hand continued to wipe my tears while my left hand squeezed the half-knee shirt I was wearing. "Ayaaah, huhuhu !" call me again with the sound of crying that makes me sting.
This painful leg seemed to want to give up holding a weak petite body that lingered standing upright. My red mixed eyeballs stared pushyly down with a blank look. Glassy eyes also feel sore when you want to open your eyes wide.
"Zinc!" the murmuring of my little brother that still sounded clearly in my ear despite being mixed with the sound of crying. "A little. little cry. Dikit. dikit nangis," tangent my sister spicy.
My tiny body that stood perpendicular to the closet that was the boundary between our room and the living room I pulled back and leaned closer to the closet.
Huhuhu !
Sobs still came out of this stiff mouth. The fingers and toes felt cold when exposed to the gusts of wind that entered our house through small cracks and wide open room windows.
The locked house from the outside as well as the locked windows from the inside were installed right on the table and bench that my father often used to eat and let go of his tiredness, he said, it looks locked tightly so that not a single bit of bright light illuminates the earth into this dark house other than the rays of sunlight entering through the cracks of the small walls.
The window in our living room is precisely near my father's dining table is not at all trace. That's why my mom and dad forbid us to open it.
Huhuhu !
Cries were still heard breaking out filling the dark room of this house. The house that was locked from the outside was as if so sad to hear the sobs that broke just like that. This weak little body still stood looking at my little brother who dropped his small body sitting on my father's bench while holding the P3K box. Followed by his head glanced to the right side looking at the door of the house that was still locked from the outside.
Huhuhoo!
The sobbing had not yet subsided to see the P3K box my sister was holding, followed by my right hand holding the drawer of the closet I was holding. The weak hand went slowly without touching the small marble that suddenly lay in the drawer.
The deg!
I was shocked when this hand touched him reflexively. Slowly I quietly turned my head as slowly as possible glancing towards the hand that was grasping a marble.
"Marbles," I murmured softly as I stared at the marbles I was playing around in the grasp with both puffy and reddened netra.
This marble reminds me so much of the old me who was so fond and good at playing marbles. I immediately pulled out a thin, slightly sweet lips mixed with a piteous face that was puffy due to crying.
My sadness was instantly gone when the marbles involuntarily touched this finger. The chaotic thoughts from the attacks that struck repeatedly returned as if they felt fresh.
This tiny body was so agile when I played with my friends. Now the marble is so foreign it is no longer touched by this hand. It is now more often sweetened in a clear jar located in the corner of the drawer.
My fingers kept playing with her until I forgot my sadness. It was like a hypnotic device that brought me out of sadness.
Plaque!
The deg!
I was shocked and woke up from a daydream. My reflex turned my head and let go of the marbles just like that. A weak little body mixed with a painful knee immediately wanted to fall to the floor.
Both of these eyeballs were staring at my sullen sister putting the P3K box on the table. The look in his eyes that met the sight of me was so cynical and frightening.
Glek !
My spit went straight into my throat violently . Jemari who was holding the marble reflex kukepal firmly as a gesture to myself as a tool to withstand the fear of the eyes that my sister cast when she met the view with me.
"Why did you see me?" ask my sister cynically. Sitting on a wooden bench that my father used to eat.
I looked down at the painful knee. Followed by my left hand squeezing the edge of my shirt firmly.
"If you don't like it, say it," he jolted. "Let me tell Dad," he continued as if threatening.
I got more and more scared and silently clutched my hand firmly. Whispers by whispers are heard blaming me. I was getting panicked and worried when my sister said that.
The face turned hysterical. This tiny body was getting stronger and able to endure amid my sister's anger even though she wanted to drag me away from my sister.
"Let me know.., and Dad doesn't tell me to take care of Brother anymore" my sister continued. Look at the P3K box located on the table.
"No problem" I replied to my sister's question. Look at locked wooden doors and windows.
I continued to stare at the door with a face full of hope that someone would come to free me from it.
"Why do you look at the door? Brother want to meet with Mother's beloved brother?" his chirps raised a question against me.
"Engga," I replied directly to her question.
"Father same beloved Mother Brother came home long ago," he explained with a ketus.
The sound pressured me even more to knock this body down on the floor.
.
.
.
Seriate...