Jaka Umbara; The Wind Warrior

The help is coming

“You better leave the fruit to us, then get out of here.”

Suddenly the hand of another child grabbed the fruit container held by Jaka. The two pull each other to pull the fruit container.

“No! It's mine! You can't just take it,” sergeant Jaka. His hand clutched the fruit container he held tightly. He tried to keep the fruits in a container that he had painstakingly collected.

Unable to seize, the boy then pushed Jaka along with the fruit container in Jaka's hand. Jaka fell down, while the fruits in the container he was holding were scattered everywhere. He tried his hardest to pick up some fruits near him with difficulty. Fruits thrown away escaped him. The fruits were trampled by the children who surrounded them intentionally. They trampled on the fruit with a loud laugh while humbling Jaka.

“This is what you deserve.” said another child cramming crushed fruit trodden into Jaka's mouth. Jaka tried with all his might to reject the actions they had done to him. His mouth was tightly closed in opposition to his intimidation.

Almost most of the fruit that Jaka gathered had already been crushed into a stampede. Jaka's usually so stoic heart suddenly churned. He got up trying to fight. His entire body was trembling, his fist was so strong, as if he wanted to take out the entire burden he had stored up for a long time.

Instantly the wind gusts were so strong, gathering into a vortex point centered around Jaka. A group of children who saw him became a whistle made. Jaka strengthened his legs slowly. His sight was so sharp and piercing. Eve anger as if clearly drawn in the air. The group of children looked at each other feeling an oddity.

“Hey, hey. a, did you guys see it too,” said the boy who pushed down Jaka. He took a thousand steps before finally running away from his friends while shouting, “Please! There's a demon, please!” His friends ran away after his steps.

Jaka looked at all the crushed fruits trampled down. The feeling was so heartbroken, bitter, sad and mixed. He bowed down to his knees on the ground, lamenting the mourning of destiny upon him. Her tears fell slowly along with the rain, as if the sky was mourning her grief. Jaka didn't get up right away. He allowed the rain to drench all over his body, allowing it to cover every drop of his flowing tears.

“Mother.. I'm not strong anymore. I want to meet Mom..” he said crying down.

Among the swift rain that flushed his body Jaka shouted loudly staring at the sky. “Sang Hyang Widhi! Why, why don't you just take my life!? Whyyy!? Why are you giving such a hard life?” Speech restrained. For a moment he lowered his face. Then he turned his face again and said in a loud voice, "If you don't want me to live, just take my life! If I have to suffer like this, I'd rather just die!"

The steps of someone approached Jaka who was lamenting his sadness. That step is in front of him now. "Young man, it's not good for someone to curse himself!"

Jaka looked up at the person standing before him. Who would be talking to him? What made him say that? And what's he talking about that for?

Jaka swept away the raindrops flowing down his face. Now he knew who the person standing before him was. Jaka looked at his face. It turned out that the figure was an old grandfather who had stopped in his hut at that time.