LOCKDOWN A Love And Covid - 19

Blue album and sleeping flowers

"Yasmine.." The sound of my father flowing was carried away by the air entering my eardrum which had been tightly closed from daydreaming,

My eyes that were originally fixed on the fried tempe on the plate finally looked up towards the voice opposite me. This gloomy face must make the father ask, how the fate of his daughter can be this complicated, and from the father's gaze I catch that he is very concerned about me.

"eat first, son. Your body needs to eat." he asked sincerely, his tone was not pushy but just like a message. I just nodded slowly, kept the chair away from the dining table and stood up. My hands were heavy carrying this glass plate into the room.

"pity of our son well." I heard the sound of my mother playing after I turned from the corner of the dining room disappeared from their sight. But I didn't hear my father's answer. My steps just dragged up the stairs one by one with a lazy to get to my personal space. I placed a heavy plate containing rice, tempeh, sambel red and mustard greens on a small table before entering the room. Mbok Lastri will clean it up later after lunch.

I sat on the cot after tightly locking the room door, the key that was still clattering under the doorknob was the last spare key I kept.

Last night I forgot to lock the door after entering the room, and maybe I thought my dad took the key that was stuck on my door when I was asleep. I knew it was to take care of me, because three days ago I locked myself in and didn't want to go out at all. But this time I will do it again. I'm really in a bad mood right now, since the day Firhan disappeared from my zone of life, I want to stop, I'm desperate for this complicated life.

I opened one by one the hard sheets of our wedding photo album, the cover is blue, with pink and white flowers on each side of the album cover.

Turaba a photo wrapped in thick clear plastic that was stuck protecting the photo, I rubbed her cheek, justifying her hair on the bangs forward. With a body shaken in front of my blue album I was as much as crying, styling her hair or sometimes wanting to randomize her until she was angry, but it was a shame. The photo remained silent, smilingly hooking up my finger that the ring had attached to it.

I wish the world could stop.

So that I can freely search for you.

Find you no matter what.

The photo on the fourth sheet of this blue album is very cheerful, I still show laughter in front of the camera, showing off a beautiful wedding ring, tightly coiled on my ring finger and on his ring finger. His eyes seemed to tell me at the time, that he was shy yet happy. We have to force our happy faces, remove a million shy and nervous even misbehavior in front of humans.

But right now, I miss that laugh. The laughter that should have happened by this time was decorating my colorful day. Losing it is like turning the world to nothing, making the water stop flowing, making it the worst atmosphere of all time.

From this album I read, that my happiness is only with Firhan. My happiness is with him. I'll do anything as long as he comes back, I want him here, so I can borrow a moment of his shoulder, so that the loss of fear and sadness that are mixed up makes my life sweet.

Like there is no summer in this world. It's cloudy, there's no light. As grim as my face, dark as my private space that was closed without any light interjected into my room.

I'm hugging this blue album, hoping it feels the same as when you hugged you.

I wanted to sleep, then wake up in the condition that you were by my side and I knew that it was in vain.

I'll keep this blue album.

Dusk has put the position of wanting to immediately rest and replace the stars on the horizon that began to be pitch.

I felt the blue album that I had hugged in my sleep, my eyes were still closed, I was still looking for my blue album but he was no longer on my side of the bed. I had to open my eyes heavily. At the end of the sofa located in the corner of the room he sat firmly, his hair was neat with a pomade of coffee aroma, his distinctive perfume filled my nose cavity, seeing me confused he immediately stood up, and he was, took my leng quickly and my face splashed in his chest that was pounding incessantly. Her tears were hidden by her who continued to gently caress my head tightly hugging my already very fragile body without her present so far. I looked up at her eyes which were also flushed to spill all our longing. He's a man so certainly I'm worse than him, I'm a weak-hearted woman. Unable to last long.

"i miss" he said peeping at the top of my head repeatedly, nodding back at his warm embrace.

"i can't stay here long. I'm accused of being a fugitive, and no one knows that I came to your camp. I miss you so much."

"how could mas? Why?"

"i can't linger long, I'll explain everything to you I promise you, baby. I'm not guilty. It's just an accusation." kiss Firhan softly all over my face and slightly press as he gently kisses my forehead. Her tears hung, I reached her hand, Firhan who was about to run was restrained by my fingers firmly gripping his arm. I shook my head begging and knelt to him not to go for any reason, he kissed me once more with a shaken body unable to resist the temptation of farewell and a brief meeting with me.

"i beg you.." My tears were unstoppable again, I cried out for help to anyone who might hear me to join Firhan so that his body would not stand up and run away from me again.

But in vain, he was stronger than me, with a heavy heart he turned to me before coming out of the room. Firhan left, I cried as much and as hard as my vocal cords produced sounds.

Dag dag

"Yasmine.." father's voice receded again, as when he called me with a very terrible tone because of his concern for me, along with the sound of the door being pounded loudly, I was still crying, I was still crying, regretting circumstances. Why did the new father come after Firhan decided to leave.

Nah! I'm sure I'm dreaming

99% I believe it's a dream, it's just my sleeping flower, but I feel that my cheeks are getting teardrops, my pillow is wet and my father is real. It was my father who banged on the door repeatedly and called out to me furiously because I did not open the door.

I locked up, long unheard of sounds outside my bedroom door.

Horden moving motion, shadow shadow someone entered by climbing using a ladder that is sent to my balcony. The back of his blackened wishful thinking was stung by the sun impatiently opening my curtain that had been closed.

"dad, you came in from my balcony door, didn't you? You know Firhan's dad did the same thing with me. Firhan came to me and he.." I said, hanging, I was fully aware that I was telling my sleeping flowers to my father, my face bent following the direction of the tears that were ready to drip. Dad stepped slowly towards my messy bed with books and a memorable album.

" tomorrow we'll go to grandma's house. I promise I'll make you happy, son." Dad took another step closer to me letting my head rest on his sturdy shoulder.

"you have to live a normal life, not yell hysterically every time you fall asleep. Your sleeping flowers are too bad, son."

His advice came out echoing across every wall of my room, I fell silent again, not speaking a word to my father.

Like yesterday, it was the third time my father came to my room to hear my painful screams because of my nightmare flowers.

I just miss.

This miss makes me carry you in my sleeping flowers.

What I want you to present in a beautiful dream flower is not the other way around.

Honestly, I can't