My Sacrifice is worthless

I'm Utilized

"She seems to like you."

I choked and coughed. Mom immediately poured me some water and gave it to me.

"Miss, is that true, Grandma? Ita was a child, what did she see from a child as small as Ita? What's not doing in the city so look for minors here?"

"Ah .. You know what? Just follow grandma's advice .. It's for your good and our family's sake!" fawning grandma with a cynical tone

I don't have the taste to continue eating. Mom and Dad were silent. My sister Nur looked at me. If there's a Fitri here he'll defend me. Strengthen me, my Lord.

Friday afternoon Fitri arrived. As usual his hands were always full carrying all sorts of food and fruit for us. The arrival that I always look forward to, where I share all the burdens. He took a quick look at me.

"Why are you, brother? How moody is that? Any issues?"

"You were the only one why Fit?" sulokku.

"Well, I saw you breaking up again? Getting beaten up again with Dad or Grandma?" the canal.

I quickly covered her mouth with my palm and shook my head. Fitri saw me so quickly brushed off my hand and laughed out loud.

"Yes, you will tell me, brother. Let's join the others in eating the fruit" Fitri pulled my hand towards the kitchen.

I followed him from behind. Fitri is more mature than me in terms of thinking. It is the circumstances that make it so, mature before its time. I told Fitri everything. He responded while nodding and smiling.

"Duh ... turns out my brother is already someone who wants to sleep?" candelessly.

"Don't worry about you, I'm 14 years old ..," I said

"Kid you kak, really sewot?" sahut while raising his eyebrows.

"Here you go, do whatever Grandma and Dad want."

"What?! You want my jerumusin fit too?" I was angry and disappointed.

"Hear first Brother my plan, rather than Brother will be beaten by Grandma and Dad because they are considered to argue again?"

I who may be quiet is sometimes also a son of dissident if it really feels what the father and grandmother want is too late. And in the end I'm the one who will take the blows from them. I've been getting punches all over my body.

I still remember how Grandma treated me when my mom was around. Grandma twisted the finger of my right hand just because I picked up the dry leaf trash that was on top of grandma's head. We were relaxing in the afternoon on the terrace. Maybe the trash was blown by the wind. I was crying all I wanted. What is the power of a 5-year-old boy? Without being able to resist let alone dodge if there were adults who hurt him? My mother ran to get me. Mom looked at Grandma with an inexplicable look. I saw my mother shed tears and took me to my room, and put me to bed with Fitri. I slept in a typical kid sedu sedan but it wasn't long. Back there was the voice of grandmother's angry screams at mother.

"You are not my son ...! Until I die you and your son are not of my descent! I'll let my water down!" grandma's voice was so loud while pointing an axe at Mom. I saw that she could only cry without answering a word from Grandma.

My mother was a little orphan. She has two older brothers, but they live separately. I never knew how my grandparents were from my mom. I was a kid that afternoon, but until now I remember everything. All my grandmother's treatment of my mother. May you be at peace with Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala and husnul khotimah. A convert who is persecuted by those closest to him. Alphateha.

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Saturday afternoon, it was a shitty afternoon for me. Of course the presence of the om-om in the house of Nek Siti. Fitri giggled at my expression.

"So Brother, do not look at it next to the house, will be big head," said Fitri.

"It's not the writhing, I'm upset," I murmured.

"Later tonight I will say that if he comes, look out for 2, we botakin him ..," said Fitri still smiling. The idea of yqng is worth a try.

Grandma had already gone to Siti's grandmother's house because she saw many souvenirs brought by the om-om. I shuddered in horror at the thought of having to chat let alone be close to him. Dad today is not at home, is returning home mom.

"Loves Philip, Grandma call it Ita huh?" welcome grandma sumringah.

"It's already there son Philip, let's meet him first he chat ...," grandmother ordered.

"But grandma ...?"

"Have, no word but. Come quickly out ...," asked grandma as she passed.

"Come, sister, I'll accompany her. Let's see how she is ...."

I finally followed Fitri's call to come out. Fitri and I sat a little far away from the om-om. Fitri watched him from top to bottom meticulously. Makes the om-om wrong. Indeed, my sister is famous for her nagging and killer.

"Where's om from?" ask Fitri.

"From the city of the Dek."

"Adek again, Fitri aja om."

"Don't call me dong Fit, I haven't got married yet?" katilah.

"Om old, yes the pantes are called om dong?" chirps Fitri.

I was just a listener. I saw the om whining pissed off. Me and Fitri smiled amusedly.

"You want to go with me Ta?" tanyakanya.

"Not at home." I said.

"Can we buy meatballs or nasgor or something?" bargained again.

"if my brother leaves, will I come with you?" ask Fitri intentionally.

"Kok coming? Kan Om ngajakin only his brother," said the om with a tone of displeasure even though he laughed.

"I'm the bodyguard of Brother, if I can't come, you can't go either" Fitri threatened.

"okay-okay. It's okay we go all three," he relented.

"Oh, next time" I refused quickly.

"Well if you can't" he said in a disappointed tone.

Thank goodness my mind. Philip soon returned home. Fitri and I closed the door.

A few times Philip went home, and I always asked Fitri to come home when Philip was coming. I used to use hp brand n*ki* 2100 which has a flashlight.

It has become a luxury item for me to be able to communicate with Fitri.

***

Three months of my introductions and Philip's, and almost every week he visits the house almost drives me crazy. How not? I'm still this kid having to deal with a guy my father's age?

Father and grandmother still casually responded when Philip came, even they allowed Philip to take me away. I was so depressed. wanted to scream, to cry, to rebel.

However, I was afraid that it would be a disaster for me because father did not accept any kind of rejection from his children. There is no tolerance. Everything they decide for us is what's best for us. Selfish right? And that's what made me, even my sisters became rebellious and stubborn. Whose fault?

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