Murderer
CHAPTER 2 - Benedict Orphanage (Revised)
Benedict orphanage
Rain flushed the city of Manggala with a rush in the morning. Thundering lightning alternately unpretentious. The sound of the rain falling so hard was able to bury any sound, including the sobs of a child curled up in fear in a corner of the warehouse.
The stocky body was covered in wounds, he clenched tightly to his knees with a trembling body, under the intimidating gazes of some of his peers. He kept crying, but — they didn't care and instead laughed happily.
“Get!”
“Gembrot!”
This child has been bullied since he was a child, whether it is in the form of ridicule or ridicule, even mired in violence.
Raka — ten-year-old boy, suffering from mental retardation. That's why, he's still like a five-year-old. She is a twin who was accidentally left in front of the orphanage ten years ago. But her twin brother was adopted by a family that only wanted one child when they were six.
The warehouse, which was only illuminated by the dim light from the five-watt yellow light bulb, bore a silent witness to what the bullies had always done to Raka. The parlors actually already know, but always close their eyes.
The five children, who were the same age as Raka, looked at him with ridiculing glare. One of them held a balloon that Raka got from the visitors of the home, without thinking long, the child took off the balloon that he had been holding. The balloon flew up and stuck to the ceiling of the warehouse.
The balloon strap dangled long enough, but still too far out of Raka's reach. The children had told him to go up on a wooden bench that had been somewhat weathered. That bench won't be able to hold the boy's stocky body. Sure enough—the sound of a broken wooden crack echoed in the warehouse. Just when Raka managed to grab her balloon strap, the bench broke.
The stock fell and hit the corner of the large table behind him. He was lying on the floor motionless. One of them looked very frightened, he ran to call the orphanage's nurse.
From the other side, it appears that a boy witnessed the incident secretly. The supervisor arrived at the warehouse with the child who had run to call him, as usual the negotiator said that they had forbidden Raka to go up on the bench but was not ignored.
Of course the nun would have more confidence in the bully's children. For the caretakers, the speech of these naughty children is more trustworthy, than the speech of Raka who has mental retardation. In fact, it is not uncommon for Raka to even get punished for their actions.
Sister Sandra is the caretaker of the parlor that is being picketed today. Seeing her foster child collapsed, she was confused, the young nurse then contacted the nearest hospital. Shortly after, the ambulance arrived with two paramedics.
“This child suffered a spinal fracture.” One of the paramedics explained Raka's condition to Sister Sandra. “How can this happen? This child should be treated intensively in the hospital!” scowl the medic again.
Sister Sandra's flick fingers massaged her forehead which suddenly felt dizzy, she was afraid that if she made her own decision, then the chief nurse and even the head of the parlour could be angry with her. The fight against Raka is nothing new, but this time — innocent children were seriously injured.
“Then, we will talk about it to the head nurse first,” Sister Sandra said hesitantly.
Paramedics who came to look at each other. One of them scouted him with an angry tone. “This is not the time to discuss! This child's life is threatened, if this is just an accident why worry. Except ... don't say this is a bullying event.”
Finally Sister Sandra allowed them to take Raka to the hospital, this orphanage will be problematic if the bullying event that harmed Raka was spread. He sat in the ICU waiting room and continued to pray for the poor boy.
Shortly afterwards Sister Grace, the Chief of the House came, furious that she pulled Sister Sandra into the corner of the room and whispered, “How dare you make your own decision Sister Sandra!”
For so long he followed the will of Sister Grace and the orphanage owner to cover up bad events in the orphanage, but this time he could not keep quiet. “A-the kid got hurt. I can't let this shit happen anymore! This is not true sister head!”
Sister Grace snorted. “That child will no one adopt it. He's mentally disabled!”
“He's human too. Raka is also a child of God just like us ..” shrewd sister Sandra. He constantly prayed with the rosary in his grasp.
The doctor called Sister Grace as Raka's guardian to explain the unfortunate child's condition, as the injury was so serious that it caused the child to go into a coma. Several questions led to allegations of bullying taking place. But the half-century-old woman denied all the doctor's assumptions.
Raka was finally treated for several weeks. Finally — today the orphanage decided to bring Raka home, they requested that this child be treated in the orphanage only. A special room they have prepared, hoping the atmosphere of the home and the noise of other children can wake Raka up.
A boy sat by Raka's bedside, his eyes softly staring at the helplessly lying body. Raka who is always cheerful even though often bullied, his typical laugh, always shares the snacks he gets from donors.
“You must be in pain, Raka,” muttered the boy sadly. "But, I beg you to open your eyes, so we can play again."
He held onto Raka's pale hand. It was this child who had been loyal to this boy's side ever since he was brought home.
July 27, 1995
A week after Raka's return.
“Suster! Sister Sandra! Raka, Raka ..!” The child who was always on Raka's side ran into the surveillance room while screaming for Sister Sandra.
“Jari Raka was moving, then she suddenly opened her eyes and smiled at me,” replied the boy with sparkling eyes. Then with enthusiasm he returned to Raka's room.
Without asking much, Sister Sandra ran after the child. But unfortunately, fate says something else. They only found Raka sleeping in eternity with a smile and a happy look on her face. He no longer breathed or felt pain.
The boy approached Raka, he bowed in tears. “You've calmed down Raka, no one else will bully you. God will always take care of you.”
The funeral of the poor boy was closed. After all, he was just a piece of kara, the issue of bullying in orphanages had blown up among the community. But it soon disappeared because human nature is basically selfish. They tend to only be interested in the suffering of others for the object of conversation, then when there are hotter issues, they immediately forget the old issues.
Year after year changed, one by one of the orphanage children were adopted, including 7 children bully Raka. The events of Raka's death seemed to be forgotten just like that.
They do not realize if there is still one child who still remembers the event, these selfish adults — only care about their good name, regardless of the right of the orphanage to be protected. She became the last orphanage child adopted before the parlor was finally burned down. All the important documents about the orphanage were allegedly burned down. And Raka, only a forgotten name remains.
...----------------...
25 Years later.
The silver moonlight shone on the streets of Manggala. Now it was late at night, only a handful of human children were seen still passing by. Some street children and homeless people who have no place to live, because few care about their fate.
The voice of Alicia Keys sounded crisp and echoed in the corners of the car, the black Toyota Camri drove smoothly on the asphalt streets of P district. Until then suddenly the car engine died right when approaching the flyover tunnel.
The graceful woman wearing a blazer suit appeared to get off the car, she opened the hood, then tried to restart the car but failed. Irritated, he picked up his cell phone and pressed a number, then sat down on the edge of a quiet sidewalk.
The original Gucci watch that was coiled around his wrist indicated that he was from the upper middle class. He probably lives in a luxury estate on Boulevard.
Many times he tried to call his garage number but it was not answered, irritated he closed the hood of his car. What's wrong with this car? Is today a bad day for me? After this morning a client's son spilled coffee in my Hermes bag, and now this car breaks down for no reason! He kept grumbling in his heart.
Highlight the lights of another car visible from a distance, the woman dared to hold it, the white Pajero sports car was pulled over. Then, a man who could be said to be very handsome got down from the car and walked up to the woman who was holding him earlier.
“The car why mbak?” The man asked him kindly.
“Entah, I also do not know, this car broke down suddenly.” Compared to the tone of complaining, this woman is more like being sulking.
The man seemed to think for a moment. “If you believe in me, we just contact the tow truck. Later I will take you home,” his proposal.
“This is my business card. My name is Andrian, Andrian Setyabudi.” The handsome man thrust out a piece of business card.
Women with high bodies until this takes a business card that is proffered. The look on his face and the look in his eyes still implied suspicion.
dr. Andrian Setyabudi Sp.
(Antasteurist surgeon)
Despite his doubts, he tried to think positively. He reached out and introduced himself. “Pinance. Kinanti Candhrawati.”
The lips of the man named Andrian formed a line of smiles. He picked up the phone from his car and called the tow truck service.
Not long after the tow truck workshop came. Although there was still fear, Kinanti continued to ride Andrian's car, they also drove through the dark night of the city of Manggala. Towards the Kinanti residence.
Andrian's Pajero sport was stopped in front of a house that could be said to be luxurious. Politely the man came down and opened the door for Kinanti. Seeing the friendliness of this man, there was a sense of guilt in Kinanti for suspecting him.
“Thank you! This is my business card.” Kinanti gave Andrian a business card.
“When I buy coffee or lunch. Dan—maaf I was suspicious earlier,” said Kinanti in a regretful tone. Andrian simply responded with a smile.
On the way home, the young doctor felt familiar with the face of the woman he had just delivered. That face, the shape of that eye, was reminiscent of his childhood friend. But he was straight. Because it is impossible for a rich woman in the class of Kinanti to come from the same place as him.
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