Red Hooded Girl

140. Discarded Dear

“Arena! Banguuun!”

Again pleasant dreams surrounded by angels, uh even there is a pounding room door that makes a rowdy. Who the hell is it that dares to bang on my bedroom door!

Less fun, so much people, to make the angels in my dream messy. How to really dream his dream. I just menggegombalin angel doang, not yet makeup, hold-hold, let alone get to the scene 4646 ninaninu oh yes oh no. It's called a half wet dream. Though when else is wet-wet dreams the same angel.

“Build Ardan! Or mama curse you so ..”

“Ready, Mah!” Auto immediately woke up deh I, so aware that it turns out that the door is my mother is impressed.

Don't let me who is handsome not this kelulungan cursed to be ugly. I swear yes, so ugly is a terrible thing. Because my self-righteousness is so complete with true perfection, it really is my capital to live a happy life in this mortal and deceitful world. If a lot of other young men out there complain about the status of singles that are very sad, I was just too dizzy with a row of cantix women who queue to be my girlfriend. Ardan is that.

“ARDAN PRATAMA PUTRA!”

Hearing Mama say my name so completely and in fierce intonation, I immediately jumped down from the mattress. This is the sign of one alert, precarious conditions. A tug of the world global economy which he said is only a short while away from the crisis caused by stagflation. Idih. Alah alah tuh stagflation kayak ngerti aja Othor tea, at most also years immunization and terasi doang.

From the way Mama woke me up, this must be really important. What is? Did Papa? Oh, naw! I am not ready to be an orphan, God.

“Mah, Papa why? Papa why, Mah?” The first sentence I said as soon as the door opened and found the figure of the beautiful woman who had given birth to me, twenty-three years ago.

“Mah, Papa why? I'm not ready, mah. Hiks, hiks, hiks.” Even though I am one of the tough young people who belong to this beloved country of Indonesia, still if the thought of leaving Papa forever makes my heart fragile and fall like the hair Anggun C Sasmi when offered to be the ambassador of another shampoo.

“Ready ready, you must be ready!” sahut Mom. The intonation sounds very firm. Are you ready to be a widow what?? Ih, be careful if later you are a widow thinking of getting married again. I'm not going to bless you anyway. Unless my future father is all the Prophet Yusuf, as rich as Prophet Sulaeman and as noble as the character of Prophet Muhammad. Masha Allah is truly a righteous son of myself, may be giving papa terms so on. Spec heaven.

“Papa Huuu huuu.” I was crying so much. Who tries not sad if you have to lose your beloved Papa.

For me Papa is not just a seed-seeding man in the womb of my mother who then formed a fetus that became the forerunner of me whose appearance was God tabarakallah.

For me Papa is a figure who is full of responsibility and loving family, diligent worship, helpful, mutual assistance, tolerance, tepo seliro, and loving towards others. Just a reflection of Pancasila really my papa. Maybe that's what made my mama clamps up to Papa.

“Ardan, what are you after? Why is it so bad?” ask Mama who even looks confused to see me cry.

“Papa, huuu, huuu. I'm not ready yet. Hiks, hiks, hiks.” I was sobbing more and more to hear Mama's words. I was so crying, it was so bad, it came out of my nose. Yes it is from the nose, if from the ear the name is congek, if from my anu under the name ...

“What do you cry about, Ardan? Want to mate?!” Again the days are crying, even Mama discussed marriage. Married, I want to. Who would not want to marry. Especially I who's virgin status tingting. Who have married a lot of people who want to marry again. Why could that be? Maybe because mating is good.

Oh Allah, may I also feel the pleasure of marriage in the near future.

“Dan, let's go shower! We pray at dawn in the mosque.” Suddenly, Papa appeared near us.

I was stunned to look at Papa. I scanned the well-built body standing beside Mama, from top to bottom, and from bottom to top again. After seeing Papa's feet still on the floor, I was sure that the figure was indeed Papa and not Papa's spirit, let alone Papa's ghost.

“Loh, Papa Why-why?” I asked after a few seconds.

“Well is Papa why?” papa Sahut. His forehead that has a little wrinkle is increasingly wrinkled when asking questions while staring at the son of his only puppet who looks masyaallah, subhanallah to astaghfirullah.

“I think Papa ...” I did not continue to say, horrified also want to say that I thought nothing.

“It looks like this kid is slipping. You're out of dreams huh, Dan?” hatch Mama.

“Iya, Mah.”

“What dream?”

“Dream Papa get married again." Answer me originally.

“Ih. Papa!”

“Aduh, ouh.” My handsome father, though handsome, was no more than me grimacing because Mama pinched his belly.

“Memamgnya Papa want to marry again?” sewot Mama with hands that have not been separated from Papa's stomach covered in cocoa clothes. Still pinched Papa's stomach that has no boxes.

“No, Mah. Maybe Papa wants to get married again. One is not abis-abis, time to add.”

“Papa may if you want to marry again.”

“Hah, seriously, Mah?”

“Hem.”

“Don't dong, Mah?” It is precisely I who do not accept that Papa married again. Look, if you get Papa to marry again. Before Papa marries his new wife-to-be, I'll be more gercepin Papa's future wife.

“But later, if Mama is dead. And because this Mama is very dear to Papa, it will be fitting Papa want the first night with the new wife, Mama will come see Papa," continued Mama.

“Hahahaha.” I could not see Papa's grimacing expression imagining it.

“Take it easy, dear Mama. Papa won't be able to marry again. Because papa wants us not only to love each other in the world, but also can love each other to the afterlife. Love you until Jannah anyway.”

“Uluh ten so sweetnya the Papa.” Mom hugged Papa and kissed her cheek.

“Well kiss, Mah, papa already have wudu.”

“Biarin anyway, can wudu again.” My beautiful mother was getting a hug on her beloved man. Which will certainly make the singles ileran, if to see their beauty.

“So, Mama want to wake me up early in the morning anyway?” I asked with an annoyed look because I felt my sleep had been cut. Loss of know, time is money. While my sleep is usually long duration, if cashed already do not count the same rupiah exchange rate.

“Body morning prayer. There was a shower, wudu, continued to follow Papa to the mosque,” Mama said that made me more upset. In the dawn prayer it is a worship that I rarely do. No Subuh doang anyway, other prayers too.

Actually, I still have faith even though as thin as this ari skin really wants to do the Fajr prayer, but unfortunately the wake is always bad luck. Fajr bad luck, Zuhur hassles, Ashar on the way, Magrib exhausted, Isya overslept. Be a bablas every day. Maybe this is my lack as a man who was created so handsomely.

“Solat at home,” I said trying to negotiate.

“Ke mosque. Cepetan Papa wait!”

“Iya, yes. Later end of dawn prayers to sleep again yes.”

“Ngak. This morning Mom and Dad wanted to talk to you. You should join Mama with Papa.”

“Where, Mah? I'm not coming, already big time still want to join the parents.”

“Mama with Papa want to invite you to meet your prospective partner. Mama and Papa want to mate you with his son friend Papa.”

“What?” I was shocked mixed with the feeling of not accepting dong ya. What does the world say, if I am so handsome charming charming, I want to be betrothed. In fact, if I want to, I just point out which girl I want. Who is the girl who will reject my charms that spill over until this spill.

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Banished dear. The story after writing Aa Dewa that I want to write this story. But, only got 3 chapters, I was lazy to continue. Instead of being dumped, I'm up here. Hope it's entertaining