do not read alone

Still Doyan Bakso

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Two days ago I went home, lost in the atmosphere of Jogja. Coincidentally, last Friday night it was my sister's turn to guard the village, so I'm going to keep her. After chatting with friends, the five of us arrived, Mr. Gio, Kelik, Sutris and I and my sister on a simple conversation, including my experience when I was a teenager. From Mr. Giolah I know, that Pekade. eh Sukardi one of the most respected village thugs in my village, has died, not because of the pounded villagers, or shot by the police, but hanging himself... because his relationship with a girl is not sanctioned by his mother, his only parents. Actually, the four of them, including my sister, were a bit reluctant when I asked about the causes of Pekade's death, even Kelik saw his seat immediately look agitated, even Kelik looked at the end of the alley with a slightly pale face. With a slight whisper, Sutris looked at me seriously, "Dude, just another story huh.?" he said to me. My sister supports him, but I still insist. "What the hell is it, you guys are like satanists." I said while taking my favorite fried tempeh. "It's not so man." said the sutris looking at me doubtfully. "The atmosphere of this village you have just recovered.." timpal kelik while fixing the sheath. "Recover from what.?", I said insistent. "Yes. from the horror of Pekade's ghost." said my sister as she stared again at the end of the alley with concern. To be honest, I just saw my sister's face as restless as it was, usually that kid was amazingly brave. "Tomorrow in the morning, I'll tell you the story completely." said the sutris as he left. "Wait a minute, where are you going?" I said. "Sleep, sleepy." he said as he left. Soon after, Kelik went home. Be me, my brother and Mr. Gio who guard the village until morning.

In the afternoon, at 11 I had been to the sotonya Sutris, curious to know what happened in my village after the death of Pekade, the village thug. Coincidentally there is also Mr. Joko, my subscription meatball. Sutris who saw my arrival, immediately said "Just ask Mr. Joko, more clearly..!" with his style that makes sebel. Mr. Joko who was shot became a fanfare, "What story mas..???" he said while drinking his nasgithel coffee. "That's the kang, about Pekade..?!" the word Sutris returns to chiming. "Others to Mas Harry, I'm still traumatized." he said with a grin. Waduh this serious, they both throw hands, of course there is a serious, pantesan last night my mother was a bit worried when we both wanted to guard the village.

It's been a month over I have a holiday selling mas, because in Gunung Kidul new harvest, so I don't know the latest development of this village" he said while smoking his favorite tengwe cigarette. That night, the rain from morning to evening had not yet subsided. Not as usual until 21:30 meatballs have not been sold for a serving.wah addresses home empty-handed, I said while wiping the face of raindrops. With a bit of laziness, I went back to beating my meatball bowl. Right at the T-junction of the Village, there was a wet hoarse voice "Three bowl meatballs, kang...". Although sitting back, but I know exactly that it was Pekade, a village thug who usually often asked for free meatballs. Instead of getting anything, just let me directly kubikinkan three bowls of meatballs pesenan mas Pekade, after the concoction is ready, immediately in a hurry I deliver Pekade's order. Strangely, even though I had thrust the meatballs but Pakade still sat behind me and without turning his head he immediately ate the meatballs greedily. I'm kind of surprised usually the behavior of Pekade ndak karu-karuan when it's rumbling his plums, either rubbing the meatball merchandise, or beating the bowl of meatballs as hard as it breaks. But tonight he was silent, even tending to be very silent. I also kept quiet, while continuing to smoke my favorite tobacco, I sat behind him. Well, not how long the sound of heavy "Your meat is less salt kang..!" he said while putting the bowl down hard. I was shocked, and stood face to face. How shocked, seeing Pekade in a bloodstained shirt, and there was a rope tied his neck, while his eyes bulged with the tongue out. My eyes immediately twitched and felt dark for a moment, knowing I was lying in the post and surrounded by the Sutris mas and friends who guard the village. I stammered with my meeting with Pekade, and from Sutrislah I knew that Pekade had died a week of hanging himself in Pakuningratan.

Last night my friends did not want to tell me, because for almost 40 days the ghost of Pekade terrorized my village, and only subsided after Kyai Dullah did yasinan for seven days at his home. Thus the story of the spirit of Pekade who still asked for his favorite meatballs, until met in the next horror story.