Fazila Tipan From Heaven

Crying (Alan)

Eight burly men with beautiful faces were now standing right in front of me. The look in his eyes was sharp, their faces looked serious, it seemed like they rarely smiled. It could be that, the job might require them not to joke around much.

Mmmmmm!

I cleared my throat slowly, trying to melt the atmosphere that felt a little tense. I stared one by one at their faces without smiling.

"I've checked your personal data! I love your achievements, therefore I have decided to accept you as the Bodyguard of my loved ones." My words confirmed.

Bobby and Iklima were standing on the left side of the sofa, they were silent while hearing the decision I was about to make.

"Fourthose. I mean, Randa, Anton, Bemby and Aiman. You're in charge of looking after my wife. She's a kind and understanding woman, you'll never get in trouble for her." I said while pointing at the four charismatic men.

"The rest... Max, Ruan, Dude, and Bastian. The four of you are in charge of looking after my daughter. He's a sweet and cheerful boy. You will also never experience problems because of his behavior.

Your job is to keep an eye on her during school hours. You can all stay in my house, as long as you work under my control, you will get monthly salary and also bonuses like the others. You can take the holidays and visit your family in turn. If you have any problems and complaints you can talk to Iklima or Bobby." Say it while getting up from my seat.

I smiled as I patted the shoulder of Ruan who was standing to my right. His face is quite handsome, I wonder why he chose a job that could have risked his precious life. Whatever it is I respect the eight people who stand before me with all my heart.

...***...

Alhamdulillahot... I finally got home. It's really amazing. Long ago... Every day through a long traffic jam, not a day I complain. Maybe at that time I knew no one was waiting for me. But now? My soul always urges me to go home. And I started to get upset even if it was a second too late. I muttered inwardly as I stepped into the two-story palace which now looked even more beautiful.

After being inside my netra house looking for a figure, a figure that I have longed for so much. Too bad I couldn't find it.

Without even trying to say my greeting straight up the stairs, I faintly heard the three women who became the new Art were talking about things that managed to shift my focus.

I turned around and walked towards the source of the voice, standing sculpting while folding both arms in front of the chest, of course unnoticed by the three different women of that generation.

I don't know when I started to care about other people's business, and look how cool I am. I stood up like a thief just to eavesdrop? It's completely out of my habit.

"His face doesn't have to be bent like Ndok, your ugly face is getting ugly. Haha." The middle-aged Art chuckled while holding his queen stomach.

I don't know what he thought until he said that. Does he think it's a joke? That's really not funny. This is the reason why I don't really like being involved in useless gatherings. There are always things that are not interesting to make jokes.

And strangely, why do I still choose to stand in silence, while I feel a deep longing for my Fatimah.

Just getting ready to step foot, again I can not step because of hearing the conversation of different generations of Art. I really wonder why Mama chose them even though Mama knows I don't like to hear gossip.

"Mbok knows, right, Lara? The son of Al. Yesterday the sweet girl ended her own life because she couldn't stand the scorn of society."

"What's wrong with Lara?" The middle-aged Art began to ask, his curious face explaining his concern.

"The poor girl. Why did he choose the hard path, ending his own life was not the right path. May the Lord forgive him." Reply Other young art.

"Ending life? Innallillah." Reply to that middle-aged Art again, his entire body seemed to tremble.

"It's not about the right path or the wrong path. If the matter started to suffocate, it felt like there was no other way but to choose to end yourself. If I were Lara I would do the same." Art the same age as my younger sister spoke in a heavy voice, many times she was seen sighing violently. Now the three women are seen showing off their deep sadness.

"What other problems can a woman end herself with than self-esteem! Kasian Lara Mbok, the woman blooms only once. And her? The poor girl ended her life because the brash man had sucked her honey, after being satisfied she threw the woman away without taking responsibility."

The entirety of my body instantly shook, hearing the three Art's utterances made me swallow an incredible bitterness. With trembling legs I tried to hold on to the table near me. Really, my breath feels tight. I squeezed my chest hard, hoping the pain would lessen. Too bad, the more I heard the words of the three women standing in front of me the more I felt pain.

"What do you mean, Ndok?"

"Mbok, Lara's pregnant. And that brash man just left her. Is it true that the world we live in today is that bad? Why did the man leave her after she took the most precious thing from a woman? Is it difficult to apologize, repent and not repeat the bad thing again? Only women lose the most."

"Hhhhmmm! Nak Lara's grief is severe, Ndok. The poor boy knew clearly that even if they were married his child's guardianship rights would not fall on his biological father.

The faces of the three women looked frustrated. Lara? The girl's name is Lara! He ended his life because he could not endure the suffering. I want to scream, I want to curse myself. What happened to that poor girl happened to my precious Fatimah.

My chest is getting claustrophobic, and I can't hold back my anger. Imagining the pain that Ummi Fazila was experiencing made me unable to hold back the mounting anger, filling all my pores.

Prangggg!

Out of annoyance I started throwing glass cups that were near me. Three different women of that generation immediately looked over. I could see from his movements that they were both shocked and frightened. There was nothing I could do to comfort them, because right now I just wanted to spit out the poison that had made my chest wither.

As my body began to harden, my eyes began to turn red with anger. My gaze was as sharp as a dagger, the three women I looked at could only remain silent while holding hands. I never thought I would experience this much anger myself, and this was for the first time.

"What are you doing, huh?" I shouted in a high voice.

"I don't pay you guys to gossip at my house! How dare you talk nonsense in front of me." This time I spoke while walking closer to the three women. Their bodies seemed to be shaking, unfortunately I did not care what they felt and thought.

"I don't want to see your faces, get out of my sight. Pack your things and get out of here!" I pointed at the three women without taking my eyes off her face.

"Mam-maafffffff. We are not se-nga-ja. Yeah-don't pe-cat ka-mi." The middle-aged woman begged as she cupped her hands together in front of her chest. I don't even understand what he's saying. He spoke with a trembling voice.

I completely ignored the middle-aged woman's words, with anger still mounting I left all three.

Prangggg!

I threw the glass again, this time it hit the glass cabinet where the furniture is stored. The three women looked frightened, they even shed tears. I still feel the pain in my heart, so how can I care about others. I ran towards the top floor while trying to hold back the crying, the roaring cry that sliced through the bottom of my heart.

...***...

I hurriedly closed the mushap that I had been reading since an hour ago. I don't know what's going on downstairs that's interrupting my concentration. After ending the Quran recitation and smelling the mushap, I immediately left the room.

My net is round, I'm surprised. The three women who were presented by Mama Nani as Art were crying with a hiccup. The floor looked messy, broken glass was everywhere. I didn't even realize I had stepped on one of the fragments.

Ssssss! Ahhhhh!

I grimaced with pain, because I was in a hurry to forget to even wear sandals. Fortunately, it was just a small wound.

"Mhd... What's wrong with you three? Is there a problem? Why are you crying?" I asked with a small voice.

"Mrs. Gentlemen. Sir is very angry. He asked us to leave!"

"What, gone? How come?" I asked again, this time I held the arm of the middle-aged woman who was still crying in front of me.

"You just go in, ask the others to clean up this piece of glass. I'll talk to your master. Where's she?"

One of the Art's pointed upstairs, and I'm sure Abi Fazila's headed for the reading room. Usually he always worked there until late at night, whatever he had in mind until he was that angry. Not only angry, he even broke things, now I'm really worried, I don't care about my feet being hit by broken glass, I even speed up my footsteps.

The troettttttt!

I opened the door of the reading room, how surprised I was to see the burly figure crying while hugging his knees on the cold floor.

What makes her cry so hard? Did I make a mistake? I muttered in my heart while walking towards him. Seeing him cry, I also dissolve in sadness, deep sadness.

"D-abi? What's wrong with you? Why is Abi crying like a child?" I asked with tears. There was no reply from Abi Fazila, he just cried, continued to cry incessantly.

I pulled her into my arms while rubbing her hair, trying to calm her down like I often did with Fazila.

...***...