Kosan Dwellers?

Memories of Kosan (END)

Hello friends, this episode is the last time I tell you about my kosan. Because my story about kosan is over. But later there are still some stories that I will write outside the box before I end this writing 😊

Thank you to everyone who still reads here. Support like, comment, and vote you also thank you very much 🙏

Because my writing is a REAL STORY, so I obviously can not add to the story as I like. So maybe a few more episodes of my writing will be END.

However, hopefully there is a little lesson that we can both take from this story that I share.

Healthy always you guys wherever you are 🤗

 

Now that I have entered the final semester, the sign is that soon I will leave the campus and also this boarding house.

I've moved rooms now. Just a week I lived in the former Wini tea house, Alhamdulillah the next day room number 2 was empty. So I immediately asked the host to move rooms.

Early in the morning, I moved my things from room 6 to room 2 one by one. By noon, Alhamdulillah everything was neat.

I put my body on my new bedroom bed. And I don't know what's different, in room number 2 is adem once. It feels peaceful there. Until the night so. During the whole month I stayed there, there was absolutely no greeting whatsoever from 'them'. So I thought, are 'they' only in certain rooms?

The last days on campus I spent on thesis guidance. Friends here who have also been or are compiling a thesis, you must know how it feels, busy, tired body and brain composing word by word to become a thesis book with hundreds of pages?

And my script moment, happens to be very unusual complicated 😅

I, who was a teacher student, had to change my title THREE TIMES, after everything reached chapter 3. Tired, I almost gave up, really.

Teacher education students, compile thesis with the results of research from the school. And the first school I went to was SMK Mandiri where I used to be PPL. When I was there, the students I taught yesterday greeted me cheerfully, thank God.

Permission for research is not that easy. Because our arrival to school will obviously interfere with the time of the learning process at school, right?

We have to go to the teacher for permission first, then to the principal or the representative, after everything is done, then we can carry out research.

In the thesis there are 5 chapters yes, ranging from introduction to closure. And every time I got to chapter 3, I was always asked by my lecturer to change the title. Howaaaa.

About a week I research at SMK Mandiri. After all my materials, then I process them at the boarding house, and every week, once or twice I deposit them to lecturers 1 and 2.

While good smooth guidance, up to chapter 3 ....

"You need to change the title." So said the two of my guidance counselor.

I let out a breath.

Changing the title, the sign is I have to repeat everything from the beginning.

Okay, I'm walking.

I'm looking for another school for me to do my research. I chose one of the private SMPs back then. All the permits I got. But when I showed it to my guidance counselor, I was asked to change schools again.

Oh my God, I just want to give up. I'm really tired. Especially at that time I was left behind by the first wave of graduation. It feels, my heartbreak exceeds the decided girlfriend 😅

I remember the faces of my parents. And it's their faces that I've always made a benchmark. When I want to give up, I shine their faces on my mind. Even when I want to do the no-no. Their faces were the first I could imagine.

I'm a boarding boy, and I had a girlfriend at the time. It's really easy for me to do something that's not there, isn't it? But my parents' faces are the antidote to everything.

What happens if those who have been struggling to find money for us to go to school, but we even disappoint him by doing things they do not like?

For all friends, especially women, please take care of your honor. Nowadays it is very difficult to keep yourself in the midst of the rise of smart phones and all their contents. Everything we can find by just typing the keyword. Indeed, technological progress does not only improve if we are not able to process it properly.

And I'm miris.

There are so many Middle School children today who have lost their virginity. Innalillah.

Maybe the one reading my writing is a Junior High School or High School child, I send a message to you. If your boyfriend invites you to something that is not-no, immediately remember the face of your parents. Imagine that your parents were next to you at that time. Imagine them watching what you do with your boyfriend.

Be smart!!

Good men won't dare touch you before HALAL!!

Do not want to be eaten seducer just because of one word 'I Love You'.

*

I have now transferred schools again in a private MTs (Madrasah Tsanawiyah). And thank God my research results from MTs were finally acc by the two guidance lecturers.

But the thesis trial did not stop there. After the guidance, I was going to go back to the boarding house on my motorcycle. But who would have thought from behind there was a motorbike that drove to hit my motorcycle.

BRAKK!!!

I was thrown far away. My bike goes west and I go east. The back of my head hit the asphalt hard. Luckily, I always wear a helmet. I don't know what would happen if I didn't wear my helmet.

It was still in front of the campus. The encryption material I was holding was scattered somewhere. My eyes could only be closed as it listened to the voices of the other students who were immediately swarming around me sprawled on the asphalt.

"Where's my script??"

That was the first sentence that came out of my lips when I was able to speak, but my eyes were still closed. My head is really dizzy. I didn't care about my condition, all I thought about was the sheet of paper I'd been fighting for months.

After opening my eyes, I was taken back to the hotel. There I was crying. Just counting the days for me to come to the final trial of the thesis, and I got hit by a motorbike? My leg was limping at the time. It hurts so much to walk.

But I didn't give up. Every morning I wake up and practice walking on the walls of the room. Step by step. Every day I do. Thank goodness I was able to walk even though it still hurt.

Just one more step and I'll be a scholar. There is no reason for me to give up.

The awaited day came. The date on which I must account for my research.

In the 'hot' room, there were three lecturers sitting in rows ready to ask questions about what I wrote on the layers of paper containing hundreds of pages. I'm tense? Obviously 😅 Stand alone in the middle of the room with in the face by three pairs of lecturers' eyes. It feels .. yes that's how it is 😅

But I am thankful that I passed through well.

When out of the room, as if the heavy burden that I had been saving for months was evaporating immediately lost to the wind. Enteeeeng once tasted.

And a few days after that, I officially left the boarding house. Tired of the many memories in it.

***

A few weeks later, I came again to the boarding house to visit Ningsih who still lives there. He also changed rooms. We talked this it took off the miss. Until Ningsih gave me one piece of information, though,

"Eh Vi, it seems that in your used room there is indeed a waiter," he said.

"Then anyway? You know where it's from?" I'm curious.

"You're out of bed, your used room number 4 is filled, pharmacy student. Well only a few days he was there, he was possessed in that room."

I frowned in wonder. Can you get possessed??

I remember the events I experienced in that room. Starting from objects that move themselves, knocking on the door in the bathroom, the smell of flowers, to the embodiment of a hooded woman. But luckily, they are just that. They didn't get inside my body.

Is that 'they'?

But in the end, for the 'you' all the boarding houses with various forms that have greeted me, goodbye!!