W A K T U
9 | Dusty Books

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Today is Monday and the third day after the story incident on the computer. Katarine told me to send her to the school magazine.

I just according.

And end with honor in my hand. Pretty good, enough to buy chicken noodles and ice cream for me and Edgar.

I started to enjoy this dream. Tidk's too bad as I expected. The class that was once only black-and-white in my memory suddenly turned into me-ji-ku-hi-bi-ni-u.

Even though every night he still often cries because of too many attacks of feelings and two stories that are turned upside down at the same time.

The same fear.

Our class was empty and I spent time daydreaming because there was no work.

"Hi friends! Mr. Atmo said our class is due to run out UTS!" Vivin was already screaming in the doorway, "Just like we'll be home early at 11!"

Nala and Bagas were busy singing around the classroom with a constellation beyond reason. Nala with the song 'Dream' has Anggun C. Sasmi and Bagas with rock songs I don't know.

But the ending is also a dangdut song.

Finally, I left class.

Intentions want to go to the library, seeking tranquility. But also to the cafeteria.

I picked up the nyam and tea in the fridge, "Here, Mom," I said, handing over some money.

"Hm .. return to rame class. Mending to ...," I looked at the hall building next to the main building, "Rooftop."

The roof of the school is unknown to many students. In fact, most of them do not know if this school has a roof that is quite broad and flat like in Japanese animated films.

Unfortunately—or fortunately—aku is a student who does not have many friends and spends most of my time alone. So, during the break I spent time looking for a quiet place as possible and languished there until the bell came in.

And that place, it's right here. Above the crowded and busy hall.

I walked towards the narrow passageway right behind the hall. The hallway is hidden by school cars lined up next to the hall.

Then, there was an iron staircase that was treated soberly, leaving rust and moss here and there. And at the end of the stairs, there was an old, weathered door. In fact, the school guard never locked it.

I'm breathing better air here. Some of the puddles from last night's rain are still not dry. The wooden shed at the end also looked wet with its open door revealing a mop, broom, kanebo; everything was wet.

I stepped closer to the edge of the roof. The teachers were seen rushing towards the main building to teach. Some others took a leisurely step towards the open cafeteria.

I also saw Zenith running with Nadir behind her carrying a small frog in her hand.

So curiously.

I let out a breath.

Looking at the wooden building, the puddles, and the flat sky. This place holds too many stories; too many wounds.

I should have spent a lot of my childhood crying here.

Otherwise play cards alone with the occasional wind or rain.

Or busy doodling papers as an escape from various emotions.

I regretted choosing this place.

"Ah, bodo very," I muttered and hurried to finish the drink I had just bought.

"Rain, I miss."

"Senja, I miss."

"Ran, Sekar, Nina, Zara, Fara, Cicik, Ali-Ali, huwaaaa,"

I'm crying alone here, again.

"Nia ...," I caught a spectacled figure running in the middle of the field, "Gue is also kangen."

I looked up at the sky with clouds strewn about as if it wanted to spill over the earth's crust. There was only a line of blue in sight, the rest was white.

I went back to daydreaming.

If we often dream of maen karate, we really can karate for a long time, huh?

If we dream of running away he said we want to escape from reality? Really huh?

If we dream of people he said the people miss? Did my recent dream that Lee Jinhyuk means he miss me dong? (either bye○)

Where do dreams come from, right?

If it turns out we are not a dream but we are in a parallel world like the movie 'Orange' how?

If we are not dreaming what?

I'm jumped.

Huh huh?

Whahuh?

Not dream?

But this is weird too. How can you really dream in the same day, hour, minute, same second. Even the details of the event that you do not remember!

Is this really a dream?

"Ah, hahahahaha," I laughed blandly. Condemn the stupid thoughts that just passed by, "No. Not likely. Bego was so vain, Edel,"

I closed that door.

Intend to go back to class, live the day as before, forget those thoughts, then go back to sleep and wake up in my supposed life.

"Edles!"

Nia waved her right hand, "Dicariin Bu Ratih in the teacher's room. Cepetan!"

"Why?"

"I don't know," he replied in passing, "It was said he said."

I just nodded my head and walked nonchalantly towards the teacher's room.

Why, anyway? My feeling was nothing wrong. Value is good too.

Uh, but my grade is really good compared to the time it should be. It used to be that my grade SD was always on top indeed, but the ranking remained last.

Tok!

"Excuse me" I said.

Madam Ratih looked up and smiled at me, "Ah, Edelweis. Here," she handed me some papers, "Mom's seen all your poems in the school magazine. Good all."

I nodded, "Thank you, Mom."

"That's a city-level nulis race. I want you to be our SD representative. How's it?"

My eyes widened for a moment. I nodded vigorously, "Yes, Mom. I want to."

Then I came out of the teacher's room with a face and brought about a change of destiny.

The city-level writing competition will be represented by Edelweis Alfa Sanjaya, not Katarine Shaffara Ayuningtyas.

The table looked full of knick-knacks such as stickers, key mounts, and binder paper various pictures.

"I want this," Valen pointed to some stickers, "How much?"

"Two thousand," replied Citra who was busy cutting out the selected stickers.

"okay."

Oh, ja.

Our SD period is also decorated by items such as binders and stickers. And that opportunity was seen by Citra who is now selling stickers in class.

"Eh, Del, what did Mrs Ratih say?" Nia's approaching my desk.

I smiled, "No pa-pa. It doesn't matter. Not about this class either."

I chose to hide the news rather than spark a new war. Moreover, Katarine glanced at us because she heard the word 'Bu Ratih'.

Katarine Shaffara Ayuningtyas, sweet woman full of ambition. He has many dreams. And he also tried hard to get his dream, to get what he wanted.

I admit he tried hard.

Though the principle is: Katarine must get what she wants, even if it must destroy, damage, and injure.

He scored above 90 on almost all subjects. He also tried hard to learn the art and vocal, his voice is quite good.

I also know that he likes to write.

Katarine was one of the students who followed the essay of poetry and the beloved student of Bu Ratih.

"Mother Ratih? Bi Ratih why?" Katarine brushed her hair back.

I don't know why I feel bad if I say I'm a school representative, not Katarine.

"Oh, that. There's a race he said."

Haha.

Damnit.

I slapped my own cheek, "You want to come? Later try to ask Mrs Ratih together to the teacher's room."

Katarine raised both eyebrows, "Sheep? I guess there was only one last month, yeah. Mrs Ratih didn't say there was another race?"

"Oh," said the mangosteen, "No need. You're the one who came. I have an English speech contest next week."

I smiled with relief.

Then the girl patted me on the shoulder,

"Good luck."

"HEH WHO'S GOING TO COME TO TIMEZONE???" nala's voice rang out in the middle of the classroom.

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Who? Me, Citra, Valen, Fira, Vivin, is that doang?" he said he was passing on the people gathered in front of him.

"Miss?"

"No. I called Mom at TU."

"Tarin?"

"No, ah. Males."

"Valen?"

"The client is coming. But there's a hehe show."

"Zenith?"

"Zenith mah wants to date Nadir first," chirped Bagas who was rewarded by a hard blow on his back.

Zenith snorted, "No. Can't be with Mom."

"OK," Nala looked at me, "Edel?"

I hold my chin with my palm.

I also said the same dad. But going to the timezone bokek out of the Edgar's fingers, rame-rame again.

Wanted to go for a walk on your own, but it looks great if jones.

I widened my eyes, "Aha!"

Nala nodded with no intention, "Yes, yes. How's it? Coming?"

"Np? No hehe."

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And here I am.

Sitting alone on the floor behind dusty bookshelves. Read one page at a time while occasionally glancing right-left.

To the right of our school there is a famous bookstore that has opened branches here and there. This place is very spacious and neat. I like the smell too.

And this place that I will often visit with Rain and another friend of mine, Keya.

Like most bookstores. There are always people who want to read one of the latest books, but do not want to buy it. Be he tore the seal and stayed reading silently.

That action is very detrimental, indeed. I don't know how much money was received by the bookstore.

But because of those people, I became free to read books here without having to risk it.

Sorry, yes, Mr. CEO. But I have enough money. I will buy the book first.

I saved up a few weeks for a book.

I switched to the part I visited almost every day in High School: poetry.

Poetry artists have always had an appeal to describe anything, whether it's rain, coffee brewing in winter, old bicycles running, whatever it is.

Ah, one of the poems I like: "Little Camouflage".

Amidst the collection of words, Joko Pinurbo—the author of—has discovered a magic that has been hidden by the wealth of language.

More or less like this:

"That the source of all stories is love

That wants to start from wish

That mother never lost her pity

That a star must stand."

Though only flipped, but good:;(∩´_`∩);:

"Well, it's one o'clock, '" I got up off the floor and rubbed my ass to make sure there was no dirt stuck.

I returned the thin book to another line of books and intended to return to school soon.

Before the knick-knack rack interfered with my concentration.

I grabbed one of the stickers there, "Mahal. If sold, no profit."

Then my hand picked up the post-it sticker next to him, along with the incandescent light hovering overhead, "Aha!"

"Eh, there is also a post-it loh!" I cried when Citra's desk was full of stickers and binders.

Vivin frowned, "Post-it?"

"Yes! The stickers that are pasted are not additional catetan that you know!"

The children turned their heads, "Where? Where's?"

I smiled with my hands spilling various cute stickers out of plastic.

From that day on, I always had financial help from my own hands and almost never experienced a monetary crisis during school.

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I lay myself on the bed. Today has been exhausting. Two more weeks of Independence Day ceremonies, followed by a week-long school festival.

I miss the school festival.

Our school was always fervent in enlivening the big day, its students also eagerly awaited empty lessons and rows of food stalls along the edge of the field.

In the middle of the field, held various contests ranging from eating crackers, sack racing, soccer, and others that I forgot. I admit the school field is very wide because it still leaves land for a medium-sized stage.

I looked at the almanac stuck on the wall, "Two August."

When did this dream take place?

What if this isn't a dream?

If all this ends, what happens in the future?

Will the future change if I wake up in the morning?

If the future changes, do they still know me?

Am I still in the same place?

"Huh, don't know ah, tired," I rubbed the rough face, pulled the blanket, and prepared to sleep.

But it can't.

Because Edgar was pecking at the doorway with a glass of milk chocolate, "Sister Edel, Ed wants to bobo here, yes. Ed's scared."

I laughed amusedly, "Why? I'm watching what serem must."

"No."

"Is there a horror movie?"

"A bad dream?"

"No."

"Why?"

The kid on his tiptoes grabbed my bed,

"Ed miss Edel's sister."

I'm stunned, "What?" then I spread my arms wide, "Ututuuu .. here, here."

Wait, what date was it today?

My hand reached for the calendar on the wall after lashing out at Edgar and finished the chocolate milk he was carrying, "2 ... August 2011," I tried to sound as slow and calm as possible.

Shit, I can't sleep back.

I grabbed the pen and the book I just bought along with the post-it sticker yesterday, then rushed out of the house.

🐾🐾🐾

Tbc.