Sorry I Love You, Friend!

Doubt

Thanks to Ela's connection, Aska managed to sit on the plane at exactly four in the afternoon to fly to Indonesia. On the plane, Aska couldn't stop thinking about her best friend. In the last video call, Bima looks fine, still cheerful and beautiful as usual. The duration of their two hours of conversation was filled with Bima's chatter about school life where she taught, a row of love letters she received, plus various suggestions so that Aska often returned home to visit her parents, and the love letter she received, and do not forget the warning to reduce the consumption of caffeine and alcohol.

The only thing that makes Aska disturbed only Bima's relationship with a woman named Angel. For some reason Aska does not like the woman Bima has been dating for the past two years. Aska felt that the woman was fake, the woman was just being sweet in front of Bima and people around. When with Aska, Angel tends to show his true nature. Arogan and cheap, That's what Aska can think every time he heard the name Angel from the mouth of Bima.

As soon as the plane took off, Aska tried to close her eyes. The flight to Indonesia takes about three hours, sleep is the only way to calm himself for a moment. Slow drowsiness brought Aska to dreamland, where his first encounter with Bima.

“Hei boy, give us the money," orders Gery, a fat boy. His face was deliberately grumbling, made to look as cruel as possible to scare his prey.

Together with two friends, Gery forces the skinny boy to wear thick glasses to hand over his allowance. As a notorious sixth-grade senior, Gery is feared by all his juniors at school.

The boy who was targeted Gery groaned slowly, Gery's hand on the collar of the red white uniform making it difficult to breathe. “Don't,” beg him with choked voice.

“Quick!” gery began to get impatient. He pinched the boy's stomach in his check.

The boy grimaced in pain. The three captives laughed, they felt the wind. The poor boy never expected, the first day he set foot in the new school he had to experience the act of bully.

“Hoi, why are you guys?!” a shrill shrill voice distracted the three brats.

Amidst his fear, the skinny boy also looked towards the arrival of the voice. He did not expect a girl of his age to stand with a roaring face challenging his seniors.

The girl took a deep breath, then exhaled along with a loud and long cry.

“Bu Teacher! Gery bullies another student," he screeches.

It was almost deafening for the four boys who were standing not far from him.

Upon hearing the sound of the footsteps of the approaching adults, immediately the three brats released their hostages and fled the place.

The short-haired girl approached the poor boy who was sitting while grimacing in pain.

"Hey, are you okay?”

The boy raised his face looking at the sweet girl with a dimple on his left cheek was looking at her waiting for an answer. He nodded slowly.

“Te-thank you," he said doubtfully. Somehow he felt the aura of this girl was more sinister than the naughty boys who covered her.

“My name is Aska, you?” the girl grabbed the boy's hand in front of her while putting on a smile as sweet as possible.

“Bi, Bima," said Bima stammering. He looked down scared.

“OK Milky. From now on we're best friends. Take it easy, I will always protect you," Aska smiled cheerfully as she swayed the interlocking fingers.

“Aska!” call Raka as soon as you see Aska. He waved from behind the fence.

Aska immediately ran over to him. Without saying much, the two headed straight out of the airport to the parking lot. Along the way, both of them were silent, struggling with their respective minds.

...***...

Raka stopped her car in front of a private hospital. Aska frowned in surprise, yet she undoed her intention to ask further. Aska chose to remain silent following Raka's steps into the hospital to a room that turned out to be a morgue. In front of Rena's room - Bima's mother sat with a sad face accompanied by Nirmala.

“Ma,” greeting Aska so standing close enough, he noticed Mama Rena's face. His eyes are red and red. This woman must have been crying all day. “Mama Rena,” call her again.

“Aska, Bima is gone," cried Rena. I don't know how many times in a day he called his son's name until his voice turned hoarse and rough.

Aska nodded. Slowly the tears flowed back from the corner of his eye. Aska quickly removes it when capturing the code from Nirmala who shook her head asking Aska not to cry. Aska understands, now all she has to do is be tough in front of Mama Rena. Anyhow the support of the closest people who can strengthen the woman.

“Ka, you want to sign in?” ask Raka.

The guy just came out of the morgue. It must have been there she was crying, clearly visible from her puffy eyes.

Aska nodded and followed Raka back into the cold room. Dozens of large iron drawers are arranged close to the wall, surrounding a bed that is also made of iron on which there is a long black plastic, rigidly stretched.

Aska's steps felt heavy as the distance closer to where Bima's body lay. He was silent for a moment, trying to strengthen his heart again.

Aska you can't cry! Bima most dislikes seeing your tears, her inner screams strengthen themselves.

With the help of Raka who broke him, Aska managed to stand in front of a jet black body so that his face could not be recognized. Aska covered her mouth with both palms, she swallowed all the yells trying to get out of her throat.

Milky!

“What happened to Bima?” mumbling slowly.

Raka embraces Aska's shoulders tighter and tighter. He knew how shaken the woman beside him was. Destroyed, just as he felt when he first saw Bima's body. “Bima had an accident. The car's on fire" he said with great difficulty.

Aska sobbed, no longer able to hold back her tears. “Bima,”. He took his best friend's hand. Grasping hands full of cold burns. There was no fear or disgust on his face, only a deep loss that he was unable to express his feelings.

Before long, Aska felt that something was different when she touched this hand. He grasped it tighter, somehow explaining it but Aska felt foreign. This was not a hand that always stroked his head and hugged him as he grieved. Not the hand that snaps his fingers when crossing the road. Open the hand that wiped her tears.

This is not Bima!

...****************...