The Trap of Love Bockey Tengil

Graduations

Finish polishing a little make up thin-thin, I gave a touch of lips with a soft color so as not to look pale. Not on, but looks calm.

This morning I've been neat with pastel color kebaya attached to the right fit on your body? just wait! My stomach seems to be growing.

I stared at the mirror. To make sure that what I saw was wrong. But it didn't. My stomach is really a little swollen.

Getting pregnant? Ah no way. Maybe it's because I like to eat a lot lately.

My appetite is hard to control from when.

Mas Gibran came, then wrapped his hands around my waist. He hugged me from behind. The man looked at me from the mirror with questionable eyes.

"I think I should diet." I deliberately said that so that Mas Gibran did not think that I was pregnant. I don't want him to be disappointed.

"no need. I liked the woman a little, "he said, then kissed me on the cheek because I hurriedly pushed her.

"Mas, don't start, deh." I pushed the chest of the field when Mas Gibran was about to launch the action.

Do not let me come late to my graduation because of serving a husband who is not satisfied. I gave you a long time ago. It's still early in the morning, it's just starting to burn out.

"Just for a moment" he said in a heavy voice. Afterwards, the man walked down my neck and made some possession marks there.

Looking at his work, I ruffled my waist with murderous eyes. Upset, emotional, anxious, combined into one. I know serving a husband is a duty, but not a gini, right?

"You don't really know, Mom!"

"See this! We leave soon. But you're making me emotional." I pointed at the three purplish red marks on my neck area.

"If so now we go" he cried without burden.

"You want me to go like this?"

"You want to wear a scarf?" He asked back. So gaunt. Makes me want to pinch her kidneys.

Why did he suddenly become an oon gini, anyway.

I'm looking for a foundation placed on the dresser. Then cover the signs on this neck until it looks faint.

*****

"Tone!" The screams of two of my best men when I just got off Mas Gibran's fancy car.

The two girls who were wearing almost the same colored kebaya (coksu with cream), seemed to welcome my arrival. Both look very beautiful with makeup makeup that I think it's the result of MUA hand polish.

While Mas Gibran was parking the car, I joined the rest of my friends.

"It's cool of my best. Dianter Cogan wears a luxury car. Ckck, I don't feel like I have the burden of life!" Sari clucked in admiration while shaking her head.

"Sa ae lu dandruff!" I poked his chin making him growl annoyed with furrowed eyebrows.

"Om Gibran is getting hotter, yeah. I also want to have a rich husband." Rani chimed in by continuing to pay attention to Mas Gibran's car entering the parking area.

"Lu want to have a widower husband?" ask Sari with a slight jolt.

"Well, if it's Om Gibran's model, who's not?"

Contact me and Sari gawking, then look at each other to hear Rani's answer saying so. I didn't think he could say that.

"This is really you, Ran?" Sari placed the back of her hand on Rani's forehead. The boy then flipped through Rani's body to make the master angry.

"What the hell are you, Ri." Strictly Rani brushed off Sari's hand that was on her shoulder.

"Udah, no. Still morning. Put the fight off." I mediate.

"Widih .. influence married cogan berduid, motherly soul lu nongol as well."

Sari really, yeah. He loves to anger me. Not at home not at school, from nyeplos mulu tuh lip dower. If anyone is bad. Could be pursued by my reporters.

How long Davin's been coming. The man held out a bouquet of flowers at me. A group of red flowers are arranged neatly and beautifully in a black bouquet with a green ribbon accent.

Davin knows all the things I love. Including the roses she brought this morning.

"Hold it first." Davin made me want to not accept the bouquet.

Then the four of us immediately headed for the hall, where the crowd had been crowded there.

The third-class line sits in the middle seat. Divided into two groups. Between girls and boys.

"They didn't come?" I asked Sari who was sitting right on the right.

"Then I went to his house. He said he wanted to come, but the ending. I know he might be embarrassed. In the news, the bunting has been widespread."

I'm mangosteen.

"Where's graduation done, we go to his house?" bosiku. Because honestly, I would love to meet that one of my best.

"Good idea. But you should permission first be with your husband."

"Quiet down. It's an easy matter."

"Why?" Rani nudged my arm.

"After returning from here, we're going to Siti's house."

"Oh, okay."

Event commences. Several performing arts performances from the younger siblings enlivened the graduation ceremony this year.

"Neng, mah nyari's mother. Kirain hasn't been here."

A middle-aged woman came over to Rani. Rani crucified him full of reverence. It was followed by me and Sari who were also crucifying.

"It was very pangling, yes" he said as Sari and I kissed his hand.

"Hehe. Make up effect, Mom." I'm disarming.

"Yes. Innate born too, anyway." Sari replied with a joke, and managed to invite the laughter of the four of us.

"Yes, yeah. Mom believes. These three mothers' children are beautiful from birth."

Such is. Miss Ely, who is none other than the mother of Rani, has indeed considered us as her own children.

I am sad again. Remember Mom and Dad who didn't attend my graduation ceremony.

"I told you, I'm leaving first so it's not too late." Rani defended herself. He can't be wrong at most.

"Yes, already. This is my mother's phone." Rani receives a cell phone from Bu Ely's hand.

"Yes, thanks. Whose mother is it?"

"Sama Father. He's right there. Join the other fathers." Ms. Ely pointed to the side where the fathers sat neatly lined up there.

"Yes, already. I sat in the back, yeah. You're all right here. Watch makeup. Don't be glazed. That expensive!" Miss Ely's message before it passes.

The day is getting hot. Stage after stage has been shown from the underclassmen. And now come to the core event.

All the third-graders would advance one by one, and go up on stage as the homeroom mother called out her name. It was accompanied by a farewell song that made almost everyone tear up.

Not from absent. Ms. Desi, our homeroom teacher put male students first before passing on the students.

[Mas, you're still here, right?]

I sent a message to Mas Gibran who from the beginning came and disappeared somewhere.

[Yes. Your name hasn't been called, has it?]

[Not yet. It's a little bit more. It's in the letter M. Where is it?]

[Your back]

I'm turning. Almost the bouquet that I hold fell because it was so shocked by the appearance of Mas Gibran who changed clothes to all black. Just like an undercover cop looking for the perpetrator.