Holy Prison

PS 1 - Behind the Window

A bright morning that never came, now really only empty hope belongs to Anindya Athaya Zahran, who is none other than myself. My name is so Islamic but in fact contrary to my behavior. I realized all I was doing was to seek the attention of my two parents who continued to boast about my brother, Mawaddatul Ulfa.

I could only look out of my new window. A room with 28 strangers in my eyes. Now my eyes continue to be fixed on the Alpard of papa who continues to go without stopping or looking at me. Matakupun water dripping.

You guys! Why should I be thrown into pesantren if I am tired of Nindy? Why not be killed?! Let you be more satisfied enjoying life without the rioters like Nindy!-Bathinku kept shouting.

I felt my tears coming back. However, I hurriedly rubbed it. No one can see my tears. Because I'm not a whiny girl who likes to show off tears in front of people. I'm sick.

Suddenly someone patted me on the shoulder, I looked over. It turns out she's a pretty girl my age. Now our clothes are so contrasting, I wear tight clothes without a hood and he is the opposite. I looked at him, asking what was going through my haughty eyes. She smiles.

“Mbak, e-e anu, what is it? that's familiar, I what is it? My name is Siti Farhana, call her Farha only,” she said so politely and kindly. His voice is so medok, looks difficult to speak Indonesian. He extended a hand. I crossed my arms around my chest, judging from top to bottom through my eyes. He decided to leave without shaking his hand.

“Nindy.” I said straight out of the room. The other occupants of the room looked surprised to see my actions were indeed disrespectful, but I didn't care. I want to go!

***

...Flashbacks...

“Yes Allah, Nindy, what are you troublemaking about anyway, to the point that you are almost expelled like this? You should be an example of your sister, she never made Mama's head dizzy!” said Mama, who always compares me to Sister Ulfa.

“I'm not Ulfa's sister, Mah.” I said lazily. I know all my words won't win against Mama. Because, every time I argue Mama will just be-so.

“This time you've gone too far! You act like a thug. Where did you think you were fighting with a boy? You really are! Anyway tomorrow join mama to the pesantren!” yell Mama. His shoulders are up and down. I know he's angry.

“Why should I enter pesantren, Mah?” my great-grandchild. Pesantren. Just imagining it makes me want to jump free.

“Mama can not take care of you, Mama is not strong!” yell Mama.

It was so painful to hear Mama's last sentence, it hurt even more than when she compared me to Sister Ulfa. Well, I was unruly and kept making trouble, but I had my reasons. If you would listen, I would like to say that I am tired of living in the shadow of Sister Ulfa.

I used to change. My grade is so good, even I got 1st in class. But everything means nothing. The day I got it I didn't get both my parents to praise. In fact, what makes me sick is that he actually flattered my brother, under the pretext that all my achievements were the result of my brother's hard work. In fact, in reality, I was never taught by Sister Ulfa. At that moment, with a feeling of anger, I explained it to my parents, only that my voice was considered the wind. Papa just shook his hands, while Mama and Kak Ulfa pretended not to hear by busying themselves with things that are not important.

“Kalo Mama is not strong, why don't you kill Nindy, Mah?” i said, annoyed.

PLAKKKK! One slap landed on my cheek.

One tear came down from my eyes. This is the first time I've felt a slap, especially a mama's slap that never flirted with anyone. Now I realized that the slap was a testament to the release, to releasing something that had never been considered useful, and to show that no one had expected me to exist since I was born.

“Pardon Mama darling, Mama.” says Mama. I don't want to hear your voice anymore. I ran to the room too. Then lock the door.

I raised my right hand, then I observed the silver bracelet my best friend had given me first, I kissed it deep. In life, I have only one person who truly loves me and wants to listen to my grievances, he is my best friend, the silver bracelet giver.

I was wearing jeans, with a long black shirt. The theme of my shirt this time is black-black, I don't care. Because my life has also been doomed dark since I was born.

My room has no windows. So to get out of the house I have to go through the door. I set my breath, then opened the door. Just as the door opened, I found Brother Ulfa standing there. I smashed my shoulder into his shoulder and walked past him just like that,

“Nindy!” papa shouted furiously at my behavior.

Papa pulled me to the dining table. There was already a Mama who I knew kept looking at me with a look I could not confirm. We all ate in silence. I just ate the fried rice that was in front of me. I can't just leave the house, but let it be, I take this as a farewell.

“Today, you, Papa take to pesantren.” said Papa, opening a conversation.

I just kept quiet. Not that I'm not surprised. Honestly, in my heart I was very surprised, but I felt it was useless. Sooner or later, all this will happen. Papa repeated his words again. And I was again silent, indifferent to his words, while continuing to enjoy the food that was always bland every served in the dining room.

“Why just shut up? You don't have a mouth?” papa asked with sarcasm, his tone so high. In my heart I want to cry. But I can still hold it. To me, pain has become my daily food in this house, so why else would I cry? I was still silent, stirring the fried rice with a frenzied mind.

BRAKKK! Papa threw my fried rice on the floor.

I just stared at the fried rice with a pushy look, now the fried rice is the same as my heart, shattered. I'm still quiet. I know Papa's angry. And this is also the first thing Papa did to me. It turns out that Papa has also changed just like Mama. Complete already.

I smiled in my heart.

I'm still quiet. There's nothing I can say. Kulirik Ulfa at a glance, he just kept quiet in his place. Really, in times like these I was so jealous of my friends who kept telling me about the kindness of their brothers who always defended him even when my friend made a mistake. I have a sister, but I never felt I had one.

“Let's go to the pesantren now! Papa is really fed up with seeing your behavior.” Papa said. This time he dragged me out. My mother and sister followed us from behind. I glanced at my brother who was looking for attention to my mother to calm him who was crying.

I smile again. I didn't run away, I didn't kill myself. But in the pesantren later, I'm sure, I can easily end my life.

It's been 10 hours the car's been driving. During the trip, no one opened their voices. Papa and Mama who sat in front of the silence, Sister Ulfa who was in the middle bench was silent, and I who sat behind also did the same.

I glanced at the silver bracelet in my right hand again. Although I don't know which boarding school to take, as long as I can be with this bracelet, I'm fine. With this bracelet I always felt protected. I wanted to quickly arrive and quickly end my life.

Soon we all arrived at the courtyard of a mosque. From the banners on the right and left of the road, I know the name of this pesantren is Al-Hikmah. From the conversation of Papa and Mama, we will come to Sang Kyai the owner and manager of this boarding school. After getting out of the car, Mama put on me a veil. I'm still quiet, no matter what.

Then we entered the house of the Kyai. It turns out that this is one of the procedures to enter the pesantren, namely the submission of santri candidates to Sang Kyai. After my handover to Sang Kyai. He had the assistant call the princess santri to take me to the princess' cabin room. I'm still quiet. Silence of a thousand languages. In the room, Mama introduced my name ‘Nindy’ because I was still silent. After that both my parents and brother cruelly abandoned me. On here. In a foreign place. Totally foreign.