High School Autobiography (Hero Generation)
CHAPTER 3: THE REASON OF NYELNEH ...?
“In the meantime, do you know about the curse or the actual purpose of the autobiography book you are going to make?” Teacher Sukada asked seriously.
The silence became the atmosphere in this library, the bonus, our voices echoed a bit, even here it is quite cold.
“Curse? Today there is still a curse? And I think we made a book for the school breakup.” I was astonished to combine disbelief while concluding my purpose of making a book.
Surprisingly, Kak Farka and Guru Sukada even had to look at each other, I don't know what it means.
“Kakak was also initially in disbelief, but, after the death of two friends sister happened, sister sense the curse did exist...” Brother Farka revealed a new reality I knew, and it was as if I had to believe, when I didn't.
“Ahk, that's a coincidence anyway,” I reply in disbelief which does sound dismissive.
“Iya, that's a suggestion, but it's not so.” Anka chimed in which in fact we had the same view.
Uniquely we then looked at each other while raising eyebrows compactly, giving the impression that the perception of Anka and my perception was the most correct.
“Even the curse of the devil is still valid until the end of time.” Master Sukada interjected the history of the proven, indicating that my perception was wrong.
“That's a different story.” I again refute in disbelief.
“Ya already.” Teacher Sukada tried to change the subject and his hands crossed, this time, his gesture revealed a stronger seriousness than before.
“School autobiography book, made to mentally shape every generation, not just knickknacks parting school,” said Guru Sukada with a serious look and look at his eyes alternately looking at me and Anka.
”Wait, mental shaping it means how?“ I really don't understand Master Sukada.
Teacher Sukada sighed, he seemed to back away from my question, because his gaze was looking back at me, and Brother Farka looked at me seriously.
”Beginnya means,“ Kak Farka who turned out to explain it.
Anka was still standing firmly on my right side, she also put on a serious face, but, I would rather agree that Anka was wary of Kak Farka, fearing that Kak Farka was reading poetry, instead, which could make Anka act anarchist, while I, I remained relaxed, but, actually, I wanted to rush home, then cook dinner for my husband.
”If you look, a movie then you see young people start following the behavior of the characters they idolize, forming a character that resembles the characters they idolize, and a movie, and a movie, comic or novel, forming the characteristics of each connoisseur, that is what we call mental formation.“ Brother Farka explained as briefly as possible but remained explicitly.
Anka and I nodded and began to understand, but there was no meaningful response from us.
”Don't all humans follow what they like? To be someone else to be considered a hero?“ Brother Farka added.
”But, it doesn't matter?“ i'm swiping.
”Of course not, even if it is good, then it should be followed.“ Brother Farka perfected his perception.
”Then. The problem with us what?“ I asked again and my question seemed to accuse me of being stupid, but I didn't really understand.
”Hehehe.“ Brother Farka even laughed like my tease.
Both hands of Kak Farka then tucked in both pockets of his trousers, he tried to stay relaxed, also hope the goal delivered perfectly.
”Well, if young people want to be idolized figures, then, we make new characters, simply, we become ourselves, form our own mentality, make up our own minds, and it should be more perfect than the character we idolize.“ Brother Farka explained smoothly.
Anka and I still silently nodded and struggled to understand what Kak Farka said, of course we have not given a meaningful response.
”So, the book you or you made, is not just a joke, we made for the purpose of science,“ said Guru Sukada who reinforced Kak Farka's argument.
”Write your life story, if it's a disgrace, you may disguise it, but, if not, we will keep your book here, and if you are written to have ever committed a violation of the law, we will keep your books here, we will not report it to the police, later, your book we will read to the next class, the rest, as much as possible we will help you in solving life problems,“ he explained as clearly as possible.
Anka and I fell silent, dissolving into questionable contemplation.
”So Laisa, write your book and invite your friends, but if your friends don't want to join, you don't force them, look for your friends who seem to have a lot of problems,“ pinta Guru Sukada with a serious view.
Which is why I doubt that my friends live without problems, even doubt, about who my friends are the most problems, how not, they breathe has got a lot of problems.
One second I was silent with Anka who was pensive, then five seconds of silence spread in this basement, the distinctive smell of books felt strong in my nose or maybe this was the scent of my saturation, no one spoke, it seemed like Brother Farka and Teacher Sukada were waiting for me to talk.
”Teacher, can I now go home?“ a question that arises from my saturation, words that may not seem to resonate with me.
There, on the two human faces of the men who stood looking at me, seemingly implying shock to my sentence, Teacher Sukada pressed his glasses with his index finger, so as to remain firmly attached to his oval face, while Kak Farka only showed a thin smile from his pink lips. I did want to go home, enough for me to know that my autobiography was made for the breakup of school, without needing to know the obvious reasons as if to heed an autobiography book. I know very well that all the books that are here at the end will be trash as well, and no one wants to read books made by troubled children.
So after getting permission to go home from Guru Sukada, Anka and I finally said goodbye, we went home without saying much more, except for Guru Sukada and Kak Farka who were still at home lingering in the cold room, whether they would do what, maybe they would eat all the books, because from the moment I saw, I saw, they seem to hold on to hunger.
• • • • • • • • •
At 14:38 I and Anka were outside the school, I was riding my bike, while Anka was walking to the Hanataba complex.
A boring day has passed, all the writings that science says have fed me up, and now I'm going home, meeting the house, complete with its handsome owner, my husband.
'KRING-KRING-KRING'
My house is a little far from Lily Kasih High School, it is enough to make a lazy person sweat just because of walking to school, indeed, I should have attended Pekerti High School which in fact more students, at the same time the closest distance to my house is in the elite housing of Artana city.
Pekerti High School, a school that is said to be surrounded by 'goul's' and the most favorite school in the city of Artana, so that the mayor just gave up his children educated at Pekerti High School, even though I think personally, so that the mayor, good at making money, that's the key to education.
The city of Artana is a city full of secrets, a myriad of important history has been inscribed by this city, ranging from the city with the highest criminal rate, to the city with the most suicides, while for political problems anyway, for political problems, I can't explain, the complexity is the same as Mathematics, one wrong number can all be wrong.
'KRING-KRING-KRING'
The bicycle bell back I echoed, a magnificent mansion left by my parents, became the final destination of my journey, I have arrived! After I unlocked the gate, of course I slide this three-meter-high black gate as hard as I can, giving me enough space and my bike to get through.
My house has two floors, the exterior of the house is shades of white gray in a modern style, my yard is even as wide as a football field which is only overgrown with green grass with one mango tree as a sweetener, which was set right near the path leading to the entrance, I sometimes thought about moving house, how not, it would be ridiculous if I had to sweat just to go to the front gate of the house, distant and lazy, that's the exact image of my magnificent home.
For my backyard, there is a swimming pool measuring ten by twelve meters, which is ridiculous, even I fill it with a horde of sea fish, of course I always get angry with my husband when every time I put a new sea fish, not without reason I change the human pool, into a pool of 'watery creatures' because, uh, I'd rather see marine life, than litter a pool with a human body, err! I replaced the water with sea water, and once a month I replaced it.
One more thing the world should know! That beside the pool there is a flower garden, strange, if in fact my husband and I have always considered it a flower garden, but really, it is a flower garden, really, because after the flowers bloomed I looked at her with my husband, I don't know, I didn't really understand between the flower garden or the flower garden, which is important to me, my husband and I were always happy to have her.
After I leaned my bike against the garage wall, I opened the door that was directly connected to my kitchen, without closing the garage door again, I stepped into the modern kitchen area, just to take a sip of a bottle of mineral water as my husband used to put on an electric stove.
And again, the kitchen as well as the middle room looks dirty, messy, four sofa pillows lying on the floor, until the rest of the potato chips appear scattered on the carpet patterned sunflower, sunflower, this is all because of me and my husband who we jogged last night was not clear just for the sake of enjoying a song. Even so, silly I went straight to my room, too lazy to tidy up something that would fall apart again, unless it was valuable to me.
The interior of my house is shades of brown and green, the wall paint is as white as cotton, the floor is covered with ceramic blue sky and all the objects in my house, it seems antique and elegant, but the entire interior of the house, the, more dominated by paintings of natural scenery, my parents' favorite, which of course, in this house is quite spacious, until there are many rooms, about fifteen rooms become a proof of the grandeur of our house.
I threw a carrying bag on my big mattress, causing a 'bruk' sound even I also joined to relax my tired body with him.
'TRING'
As soon as I checked my smartphone, Anka, a short albino man with metrophobia, sent me a message.
Anka: ”What does the chairman want to make an autobiography book?“
I: ”Iya, after all, there is no harm, lazy anyway, but, as if I have something to remember the same school.“
Anka: ”That's good, can I join?“
Me: ”Ya sure, why not.“
Anka: ”How about other friends?“
Me: ”Saturday I will ask.“
Anka: ”Ha? How Saturday? Why not tomorrow?“
Me: ”Tomorrow we mabal yuk, I want to take a walk to the city center, who knows there are cute aquatic creatures.“
Anka: “Waduh, a week ago instead we've been there?”
Me: “Oh yes already, if not let me just.”
Anka: “Oke-oke I'm coming.”
After the message, I sat down cross-legged on the bed, still checking my smartphone.
Cool out! I have opened my shoes that I put in the garage, so the bedding is not dirty.
I was reluctant to change my clothes, my white socks were still wrapped firmly in my cute feet.
Anka: “Oh yes! What was the name of the class we met? Why didn't he introduce himself? He is the one who hikes it, right?”
Me: “That's Brother Farka, he might be in a hurry, so don't have time to introduce himself, see if he wears a suit, so surely he's a busy man.”
Anka: “Maybe.”
Anka only answered briefly, there was only one question in my head that stuck, obviously I immediately pour in my phone.
Me: “Anka, why do you want to write an autobiography?”
It took three minutes to get an answer from Anka.
Anka: “I also want to be remembered, yes, even though my memories are bitter, or even worthless, but, as surely as I ever left the work.”
Me: “Hmmmm, unique reason.”
Anka: “Terus, what's your reason?”
Me: “Loh, at the beginning I told you, I want to be remembered.”
Anka: “Like Loze, his life wants to be remembered.”
Me: “Minik, but not the same, he mah indeed have a disease.”
Anka: “Hehehe.”
Three minutes after Anka answered my question, she suddenly sent me a message back, and I didn't like the content of the message.
Anka: “Chairman of class, is it possible that the curse exists? You see, Kak Farka himself has lost two friends?”
Me: “Already ahk, don't talk weird.”
And that was our last message, because I had to get ready to cook in the kitchen for my beloved husband.
Surely I still use school uniforms, even still lazy to clean up the house.
Let me grab Laisa's left hand
Let me grab your right hand
Let me go crazy let me be happy Laisa
Then I held onto your hands Laisa
It's okay you spit on me
It's okay you're against me
Even though I wanted to keep admiring you
Even though I look ugly I'm chasing you
