Pasung Tuan Muda's

12. Husband's Brutal Pas

Revan POV

Right in the middle of the night, I walked over to the silhouette of the woman still clutching with a doll on a white mattress. The wife stared fixedly at this body after finding a vision from the doorway to meet her, I walked while raising my head to the floor.

Right in a room, I got Marissa who immediately returned an eye. It seems he was upset with me earlier, because with a snapping voice, I defended Siska more than he. With my right hand, I touched the wife's hair slowly.

Then he shifted his seat so I couldn't touch him anymore, tears dripping from the curve of his cheek all of a sudden. After a few minutes of silence, I took a deep breath and gulped a few times.

"Darling, I want to say something tonight." The opponent is listening, but the heart says that it does not understand what the other person is saying.

Without replying, this mouth re-routed non-stop. "Mar, I will remarry with—Siska."

The visible response from the wife's face is just a breath repeatedly, maybe she can feel the disappointment, even though she is crazy and the level of depression is very outrageous she is experiencing at this time.

Marissa put her right hand on my cheek, she stared full of greg as the breath felt like a breath. However, the wife still silenced.

"Do you approve of me?" pause for a moment, then. "I have made Siska pregnant, and inevitably I must finally take responsibility."

The woman he was talking to shed tears, perhaps she understood what I meant. But the wife responded normally and changed her position to shift closer. With her right hand, Marissa placed the doll in her arms.

"You ... You-you, who?" the question stammered, still with a breath that was very felt to meet this soul to shed tears.

From the threshold of his vision, I turned. Throwing a look at the watch on the wall of the room, because both eyes could not look at the wife I wronged with the behavior and adultery a few days ago.

Then he touched my hand slowly. "You want to get married? With who? Are we husband and wife."

I nodded twice, and the tears continued to flow non-stop. "Mar, forgive me for betraying this holy love. I beg you not to drive me out of this house, for indeed all treasures are yours."

Whining nonstop, the position of the body turned into squatting and whistling before him. Then the wife stroked my head slowly. Without reply, apparently the wife hit me on the shoulder with a decorative flower pot.

Brug!

"The men don't know you're lucky, give me back my son you killed."

The blood coming out of my neck sprawled me on the floor, holding onto the shoulder that was targeted earlier. "Mar, can you do this with me? You're a miscarriage, Mar! It wasn't me who killed the child in your womb," my cry raised the tone of voice.

Trying to get up from the floor, I walked up and clutched Marissa's body, which was carrying several objects in both hands. Instantly his emotions were dissected, but still in a state of hysterical crying.

"Relax, Mar .. I'm not doing this out of my will! But it was indeed an event that could not be avoided anymore."

From the embrace of both hands, the wife opened the drawer and took out a sharp knife. I also turned with a gregety look, wanting to let go of the embrace slowly. If I rebel later, it must be the knife floating in this stomach.

Shifting little by little, the body finally managed to move thirty-five inches away from its current position. Estimates are correct, that Marissa floated the knife almost to my stomach.

"Mara! What the hell are you doing? Throw that knife away!" hardikku while scattering out of the room.

"Please ...."

"Bi Ira ... Lefthank ...."

After arriving at the second-floor staircase, I paused for a moment. Bi Ira who came with—Diman—the security guard near the gate, they also changed their expression like a fool, because they heard a shout from me.

"Master ..what's screaming," said the middle-aged woman who always tied her hair with raffia rope, she was Bi Ira.

"That!" I pointed to the door of the room that was wide open.

While neutralizing the breath that was still boring, I also swallowed a few times.

"Yes, Sir. That why?" diman asked seriously while furrowing his two eyebrows.

"Mar-Marissa wants to kill me!" I surprised both the interlocutors.

In unison, they shouted. "What! The madam wants to kill Mister?"

"Come, let's go into the room. That's when he didn't have a knife anymore." Finished speaking in a hurry, we rushed to the room room.

Bi Ira spontaneously shouted. "Mrs .. don't do that, astaghfirullah ... Gusti's...."

The middle-aged woman who used to be a friend and was considered a biological mother by Marissa walked without fear, while Diman and I exchanged looks because they did not know what to do.

"Sir, how about we pull out Madam's hands" said Diman instantly.

"Master from the right, and I from the left" he continued with a triumphant face.

From the left side of the interlocutor, I followed his words. "You are, too, man. Come on, we do."

Diman nodded twice. With a sagging step, we walked from the opposite position. While Marissa was still seriously staring at Bi Ira, with the third count using body language codes we both ambushed Marissa.

The knife he was holding instantly grabbed, and I quickly threw the sharp object towards the corner of the room. The wife was very emotional and venting her anger, she screamed hysterically and shook her legs.

The mattress was a mess, but we both would not let go of Marissa's hand. Apparently the power of the wife is very strong, so we are almost overwhelmed to withstand the mounting tantrums.

"Master ... How is this, the Madam continues to rebel." From the end of the mattress, Diman screeched a few times.

"Diman! Come on, let's pull Marissa's body into the basement. Otherwise, all will be lost if he continues to be among us."

"But Sir! I don't have the heart if Nonya—we put it in the basement, because there is full of rats and the place is also slovenly," denied Diman grumbling nonstop.

Since there was no other choice, I insisted on taking Marissa out of the room. "Do you want me to fire or not, man?"

When the other person swallowed his saliva, he put his head to the floor. "Okay sir, now we go to the basement."

"No! Do not brackets Madam .. I do not want if she suffers alone there," whined Bi Ira while hugging Marissa's body very tightly.

Diman also back to change his face to me, he seems not to have the heart either. But what can be done, for the good of the whole house that Marissa must languish in the room.

"Man, pull Marrisa's hand!"

"Okay, sir," the response was brief.

Finally, Bi Ira shifted her position and took off that tight hug. After getting out of bed, the wife followed us several times in rebellion.

Mar, I'm sorry I made you like this. If only you weren't crazy, maybe I could still have you and we lived together as usual.

Arriving in the basement, Diman and I put Marissa into a room where she kept unused items. The wife was lying on the floor because of the encouragement we had done that night. From the left side, I picked up an old pasung tool that belonged to an old man.

Right under the dull closet for almost ten years of uncleaned, I put the wife's legs together very carefully.

Then Marissa shouted very loudly. "Please .. please .. please .. please ...."

Using two hands, I closed both ears, the padlock was locked very tightly. Iron as a fastener pasung it is also impossible to bring the wife back into the house, the night was exhausted patience to see the behavior of a very anarchist.

However, I hope one day Marissa can recover and live peacefully at home again. From the doorway, Bi Ira came over. He ran away crying hysterically, then the middle-aged woman hugged the body of the wife who had been shackled.

I pressed my head with both hands, holding my head to the floor full of dust.

"Master .. don't do this to Madam," the middle-aged woman whined as she stared softly at me.

"Bi, he can no longer be overcome. I did this so that no one would fall victim to her anarchist," I said, turning my standing position into a squat.

Looking up again towards Mang Diman's face, he looked very agitated as he shed his tears.

From the front, I said. "Mar, wife. I'm sorry for doing all this, because I don't want you to constantly be anarchist with guests and people around the house."

The wife also raised her head, she occasionally glanced at the pasung that tied her legs. Take a deep breath, while throwing it out of your mouth. I led to the brownish-colored pasung, now this decision has been unanimous to make him deterred.

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