SOUND FOR DILARA

CHAPTERS 15. DECREE

After her stomach felt full, Dilara got up out of the private room cafe and waited for public transportation on the side of the road not far from the peach-colored building she had just left. The Angkot will bring him back home.

He still feels a little dizzy due to the upcoming pe-em-es period. But she does not want to be labeled as a girl who likes to take advantage of the situation. Call Velma and driver Ezra offers to drive himself home in their car, Dila subtly refuses.

Do not want to be a burden others even hang themselves on facilities that are not his. Dila knew enough himself especially with the disability status he looked increasingly make him determined to always be independent.

Almost an hour Dila just set foot back in her beautiful home. Mom hasn't come home yet, maybe by ashar she'll be here.

After locking the door, Dila headed straight for the room, putting the two maps she was carrying over her laptop on the study table.

Dila then lay down her body that felt a little tired on the bed. His left hand stretched out into the air, ascertaining the rest of the time he had before departing back to the ponpes following the study of ba'da dzuhur.

There was still sixty minutes, the net was again centered on the brown map he had placed earlier.

Curiosity again ambushed, especially Mr. Ezra asked him to give an answer tomorrow.

What answer anyway? married her?

He forced his body back up. His fingers stretched out to pick up the thing that was still lying in its place.

Dila opened the hook slowly, her eyes squinted, peeking at the group of paragraphs in the brown map that she had not yet reached at the cafe.

His hand took out a few pieces of paper from there, his eye movements following a string of black inked sentences lined up neatly without a typo.

Innalillahi .. astaghfirullah ... Mammy? why didn't you tell Dila?

Dila changed the position of the sheet he was holding with a similar paper underneath.

Here, Mom's medical record? is that so bad?

Mom, forgive Dila. Insensitive to Mom's condition, don't stay in Dila, I don't have anyone in the world except Mom. Only Mom, who always understood me.

Dila cried without a sound, only tears broke on her face that slowly made its way down the river.

Many regrets that come crashing into his heart that is increasingly crowded, almost full of guilt.

His body fell to the floor, his legs he bent to the limit of the chest, then banged his head several times on the side of the couch, condemning his stupidity all this time.

Long she cried in her place until the sound of alarm coming from the watch made the girl's sanity aware.

I have to pay first, and ask Nyai later.

The girl in the red hood went to the bathroom. Wash your face mingled with sweat, dust and tears that still leave traces on the face of his father.

After feeling free from small hadas, he also berwudhu, intending to meet Robbnya to complain.

Until the final greeting movement to his left is perfect, Dila is still loyal on the prayer mat. Opening both hands raises the barbarity of hoping that the Khalik will give grace to him so that he can be calm in making a decision later.

Bismilbornrahmanirrahim's...

The brave girl named Dilara got up ready, grabbed her Fathul qorib book again and headed for the back door to pull out her favorite purple bike.

Twenty minutes later.

Dila arrived at the back door of the ponpes. Khidmah who was there also understood that the girl would participate in Zaky's ustadz study this afternoon in the Hall.

"Dila, diligently. Come on, just start again," said santri khidmah kindly give Dila spirit.

"Syukron Mba," Dila replied no less cheerfully as he lowered his bicycle limbs in the parking lot not far from the gate.

The step is sure, the navy dress suit that his mother bought last week increasingly makes a contrast of Dila's beautiful face that afternoon.

As usual, Dila sat at the back. This time he deliberately waited for Ustadz Zaky out of the hall after later study. Something she wanted to ask him.

Adzan Ashar reverberated signs of the study after.

Dilara rushed up to the door that the ustadz Zaky used to leave the ceremony.

"Dila," reprimanded ustadz astonished, the tumben of this girl approached that was not her mahram.

"Afwan Ustadz, I want to ask," Dila's voice stammered.

"Just write, this...." Dila handed me a piece of paper containing notes on some of the questions there.

"Jawab is now. Bismillah.pursue to her legal parents fardhu 'ain, Al isra verses 23-24 as well as many hadith on this as well. Married without love?" ask ustadz Zaky.

"This is Dila's hadith, a widow should not be married until she is invited to deliberation (in her opinion), and a girl should not be married until her permission is asked."

"... The sign of the girl's desire only to be married, when she is ashamed to answer, is from her silence .. There must also be permission from the guardian, these are all the words of Rosulullah in Bukhari hadith history."

"What does Ana say, Dila? just write it down, one second," Ustadz Zaky brought a paper with Dilara's question into the Hall.

Soon he came out and handed back the paper containing the answer to Dilara.

"The key, sincere, accepting, not complaining and spend time together. Love will grow by itself, this question is for duty, Dila?" ask ustadz when the girl is silent.

"Yes, duty. Syukron tadz," said Dila nods while cupping her hands in front of her chest.

"Afwan, Dila. Ana pamit, assalamu'alaikum," added Ustadz Zaky left Dila there.

"Wa'alaikumussalam," lirih Dila continued his steps back towards the rear parking lot. Intention to ask Nyai he paused, minimizing suspicion because Dila's decision later had to have permission from his guardian.

Returning from the study, Dilara saw Velma was already on the porch of her house.

"Siang Miss," said the courtesy aide even though Dila was nobody to him.

"Siang, sister," Dila replied with a hand gesture and a lip gesture, after removing the sandals and going to open the door.

"I was asked by the Young Master to record your answer, please," Velma threaded with her phone towards Dila after she was welcome to enter.

"Can I ask you first, sister?" Dila wrote on a note paper and then showed Velma.

"By, please Miss."

"Will Mom be healed? and will I be parting ways with Mom?" Dilara asked Velma through her notes.

"Make me a photo and send it to Mr. Rolex first Miss, please wait," Velma explained that she had to report first to her boss.

"One more. Can I still see Mom? work and teach me how?" Dila added her question sentence.

"This is not one Miss, but two," Velma chuckled at Dila's innocence.

The girl in front of Velma only smiled sweetly, displaying her neat rows of white teeth.

Miss Dilara, you're so pretty when you smile. Velma admired Dilara's beauty.

"I make a drink first Brother," said Dila rose to his feet to prepare a drink for his guests.

The spirit melts the heart of the young master, Miss.

Velma was still waiting for an answer from Rolex to Dila's question, but soon her phone rang from someone whose name was sacred for her to call.

Glug.

"Where is he?" a loud voice sounded from the end there.

"Sister, drink," Dila thrust a cup of warm tea before Velma whose face was deathly pale.

"Miss, this." Velma handed her phone to Dila.

"Village....!" shouted the man's voice from the flat object he was about to attach to the ear.

"Assalamu'alaikum.." a woman's voice.

Deghs.

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