Not a Romance Novel in the Holy Temple

1

Sometimes I wish I was born with a beautiful face.

Don't get me wrong, I love myself. But we all know that being beautiful makes life so much easier. Especially if you have a personality that makes people feel at home to continue chatting with you. So perfect!

Unfortunately, neither of the two defines me.

Again, I really love myself - just a little bit of dissatisfaction and it's only natural that I have that feeling. Pretty privilege is real. Don't try to change my mind about this, huh? It will be a waste because you cannot.

I'm not ugly, my face is the type of face you can easily meet on the streets. In other words, the average .. or perhaps below the average ....

About my personality .. umm, I don't socialize much.

Ha, ha, ha.

So look ... three months ago, I was fired.

I was fired not because of my below average face or my aloof personality, but the company where my work went bankrupt. Actually, the opening above has absolutely nothing to do with me being fired, I was just a pleasantries.

But I'm not talking nonsense, you'll understand later.

So, I wandered to an island in Indonesia that I always wanted to live there since childhood, namely Bali. Who wouldn't want an environment with friendly and tolerant people? There are also a lot of amazing tourist attractions.

Finally, once I graduated High School eight years ago, I moved to Denpasar. The reason given to both my parents was of course for college. However, since I had the intention to stay there, I did not return home after finishing my education.

I knew it was wrong, I knew I had to go home.

Change the topic.

I contracted for a small, cheap apartment on the edge of town. I live alone, with no relatives or friends. Well, my life was a little good, until I got a PHK two months ago.

That's why one month ago, I was packing my things, getting ready to go home to my parents.

I never thought that a bus accident on Tuesday, May 13, 2017 would lead me into a novel I read two months ago. I'm not kidding. If you often read novels or comics, or watch fantasy films, there is no way you are not familiar with this plot.

So, the point I was trying to say was that my hope was finally fulfilled. When I looked in the mirror, the reflected image was long red hair and choppy like a majestic smoldering fire, instead of a gloomy black; a pair of crystal-clear purple eyes that can get you lost when you see them, instead of a gloomy black (the real old chocolate, but, please, don't spoil the cream!); thin lips and red as red as maple leaves in the morning of spring, instead of gloomy black; a slender and feminine body that can arouse the desire of any man to protect, and, instead of a plywood board (it's a shame I can't continue the receipt from here on); the skin is as soft as a silk robe that makes you want to touch it every day and is as white as a marble stone, instead of being rough and striped like a zebra cross.

In short, that figure is very beautiful. Sorry, I can't make a good and accurate description. Even if I could, it seemed like a thousand words would not be enough to describe the majestic and dazzling figure of a goddess in those mythical stories. It was an insult to describe that figure under a thousand words.

You can imagine my feelings back then, knowing that I had turned into an incomparably beautiful woman. Be happy? Sure was! However, it only took a second for the euphoria of the heart to all crumble.

That's because .. I remember my family ....

Even though I wasn't close to them, knowing that I was dead and would never be able to see them again made me feel sorry. Deeply sorry. Also sad. Very sad.

I don't know why .. can-can be, myself for one second feel very lucky because there is no need to visit them again .... After I thought about it, I was indeed a very unfilial child .... But ... no. I'm not. I don't hate my family, I just want to live alone. I want freedom, like butterflies flying freely under the sky glittering at dusk, between the beauty and the fragrance of the lavender flowers in the fields.

I don't know if I'm still alive or dead. I was a catholic girl. Even though I disobeyed, I was quite spiritual. I know that in the Bible, something called reincarnation does not exist. However, my situation is, in what terms should I call it? I'm not sure if I'm in the afterlife right now because this world is not the afterlife! This world is a novel world! The novel Romance in the Holy Temple.

I don't want to think much about this .... Too complicated for me that not so long ago-seven days-dead. But, obviously, the story of suddenly my whole world spinning 180 degrees, then the hard river rocks cracking my skull was really not nonsense. The pain and dizziness are real. The sound of 'cracking' after my skull hit the river rock was also not a technical fault of my ears.

Unfortunately, I didn't die right away.

About twenty passengers on the bus, none of them lived a little longer than me. I was surrounded by the corpses of people who some time ago were still chatting, still playing mobile-phone-play

-still alive.

I could only watch the clear river water slowly turn red. The river that was originally comfortable for the eyes to enjoy and made the mind calm, mercilessly turned full of trauma in an instant. The blood slowly melted with the water. The smell of death incessantly terrorized my mind. There is no calm at all. I ... was very scared. There was no word that could describe the roller coaster of my emotions at that moment.

Half my body was squeezed and I really couldn't break free. I could do nothing, just continue to praise the name of God and hope for a miracle to come by bringing up a group of SAR teams at that very moment and saving my dying self. I'm so cold. The wind, especially the night breeze, really did not want to play a moment with me. The cold of the river flowed ferociously between my wounds. The bus debris went deeper and deeper into my leg, until I finally really did not feel the pain anymore.

However, I watched the night sky change for two days, before the scene I saw completely changed into a very large and silent hall. Under me, there were countless people, perhaps hundreds or more, kneeling down. Yes, they kneeled to me. As for me, standing on the platform, looking at them. They looked small from up here, giving me a grand feeling.