The Struggle of a Child
Leaving under the tree
"Dad knows son. You are bored in the house. But if you guys are given out. You don't know the way home" said my father, who was tired of seeing us whining, asking to play outside.
My sister and I felt shunned and met face to face and showed a sad face. Regret and disappointment again enveloped the father who had been forbidding us not to fuss anymore.
With guilt I dare not look at my father's face standing straight at the door. While another case with my sister who always considers all mediocre. Felt the youngest child who never got the demands of our father. He never wanted to know that my father was really serious about his reprimand.
"Other times if you're always noisy. Don't fight in front of Dad. I got dizzy hearing your screams and cries, Ana!" my father said with a tone of voice that sounded dislike.
Glek !
My sister was surprised and gaping as she floated a look in the direction of the father standing in front of us. Eyes that stare without even a blink as if dumbfounded because the father who had been indulging him turned out to dislike his increasingly outrageous attitude.
"There's nothing to cry about. Do not stay in the house. Playing in the house is always fighting!" regret my father who could not do anything more. "Please, Son. Don't always make a fuss. It's day already wants night. Don't go inside the house. It's a storm outside!" my father continued gently begging for hope that in the future me and my sister would no longer repeat the same thing.
The shirt I was wearing was half a knee kneeling as a restraining guilt towards the tired father. As for my own sister she also lowered her head because today the one who loved her the most had already blamed her.
The wooden branch he took as a tool to paint on the ground now became a tool to calm himself from his father's annoyance. "Father is now willing to scold me," he muttered regretfully while looking at the twig he swung over the air.
The gazing eyes looked down at him as I turned to look at my brother who was disappointed to hear our most dear father no longer defending him.
"What did Brother say? We're in! Later Dad gets angry," I said, asking him a question. Standing glanced at the wood hanging above the air.
Instantly his unpleasant gaze mixed bitterly. Nervous to see it, I immediately dropped my gaze down looking at the leaves that were stuck above the mother's hair that was plastered on the ground.
"You don't want to come in. 'And so, we both got angry, '" I regret to be disappointed to see my brother who is still selfish.
While the father who had been taking care of us had changed a little like a chatty woman. The sound of repetition is increasingly often heard lately fill the ceiling of the house.
"Liyan, you also the longer you've been more closely followed by your sister. Don't want to listen and always listen to your sister!" tell my father who gave up.
I didn't think I looked like my sister. Not listening and likes to run.
"From now on you two are outside! No need to go back home. Bair you guys are happy playing outside. No one forbids it!" my father said, turning the body left us who have not yet finished fighting.
Very self-deprecating. This problem is causing me more dilemma. Not everything we did was what our father liked. Ducking down while glancing at my gaping sister looking at my father who disappeared.
"Ana, what did you say? if you're angry, we'll both get it?!" my neighbor, looking at my wrinkled and disappointed sister, saw a father who had begun to change.
"Yes, but I'm not punishing you anymore, weee!" my sister said while mocking to pull out her tongue.
"Ana, you!" I said, shifting this tiny body was not happy to see my sister mocking. "If you're angry it's okay. Later Dad will also be good to me," he said confidently while pointing a tree branch into the air as a signal that what he said was going to happen.
Slightly dumbest and in disbelief, I laughed amusedly at the sight of my sister who was always confident in what she thought herself. Every time he gets scolded he's always like that. Believe that the father who loves him the most will not be angry with his attitude and behavior.
"Let Brother know. Dad was never angry with me, because I'd look like Mom" my sister said with pride and pleasure.
"Dad's going to say that you can't see me crying" my sister continued.
That shock was all I could give myself after hearing my sister's words. Silently looking at the sky this second I did as a gesture of replying to my sister's answer who already thought that I was nothing compared to her.
"Sister will know that Dad is angry he must love me again," quipped my sister who found out that I had never been treated, it seemed special.
I feel self-conscious but I still have to be strong. My sister is not my rival to seize the affection of the father who has been a tireless parent in caring for us.
"Then we go in now!" take me gently and with a big heart.
His face looked somewhat doubtful and indecisive. Thinking while staring at the picture above the ground as if he was thinking while looking at the shirt and shorts he was wearing. "If I go inside. My picture is broken!" he said, looking at the unique picture of the shirt.
"Which picture?" I was immediately confused to look at the ground and the clothes he was holding.
"This picture!" said my sister pointing at the ground with the gaze of her two clear eyeballs.
Exhaling a long breath of hearing it . I was a little relieved to know the answer. "Sik, tomorrow can still be drawn again" I said softly.
Highlight the eyes that felt heavy-hearted, looking at me who said lightly. "Sister, if tomorrow we are given out. Where would you like to?" ask my sister full of question marks.
"Ana, just pray. May Father tomorrow give us out" my advice instills a little confidence in my sister.
"Huh! Do'a we fail when it hits Dad," my sister lamented, folding her hands over her chest. Followed by the right hand still holding the twig.
"Gtfff!" I want to laugh. However, I held him back so that my sister wouldn't get even more upset. Staring at my sister with a funny tingled heart.
"Maybe tomorrow will be granted?!" I said I hope for the uncertain.
A pouting mouth with fused brows and a furrowed forehead he looked at me sharply.
"Udah, Brother. Let's go in!" ask me, pulling my sister's arm who insists on keeping the picture under the tree.
"Sister!" my brother shouted heavily stepping in leaving under the tree. "My picture, how's it ?" ask my sister who gave up.
.
.
.
Seriate...