The Various Kinds of Stories

The Lost Soul - BossyTika

All humans have the same portion of life, all have the same luck and misfortune. It's no different, it's just that time gets it that makes it no longer the same. Some are faster, but some are so slow. Something is known and something is not realized.

So did I.

Not even a week my father left me. My father had been fighting the disease for years. He allowed himself to live without the help of drugs. It all happened purely because it was my father's will.

"If pain is always helped by medicine, then when can we believe that God's power is real?" I said it every time my mother gave me medicine.

My father is one of the people who are not neko-neko. For any business, if possible everything is done simply but completed and appropriate. So too if I force her to take medication. There was another answer from him.

"Drinking medicine will only make the organs of the body become spoiled. Then the kidneys will work harder to digest all the drugs you eat."

That was all he said, but if you think about it again, it was all logical. It's just the news that always makes it complicated and bulging.

The disease is a respiratory tract disorder. It's too chronic. Yes naturally, the father was an active smoker. Mommy once told me, if in the past when they were dating dad, they had separated just because of trivial things, namely cigarettes.

Mother smokes cigarette smoke. Because every time after coming home from a date with my father, my mother was always scolded by oma and opa. Wh why? Because your clothes always smell of cigarette smoke. Until finally the mother until not bear, telling the father to choose, between himself or the tinting tobacco.

But of course I'd rather have the gun. They separated long enough, until finally reunited again when they already have a job together. Then they promised each other, to help the father get away from the deadly plant slowly.

Until I was finally born. Slowly my father reduced his cigarette consumption to take care of me. So that I may breathe the fresh air of this world. Then suddenly the father was sick, after the examination, the father was sentenced to have a chronic respiratory disease, ISPA name. Since then, mother applied a healthy lifestyle to us, until now.

The days we spent without a father, made my relationship with my mother become more distant. Mother became more often in her room. Sometimes I hear his voice crying, sometimes I hear it quiet from behind the sturdy door made by my father.

Yeah, my dad likes to make things out of wood. Not only the door of the room, father even made his own small cabinet for the display of mini ceramics in the bathroom. Many guests visit and always admire it when they excuse me to borrow the bathroom.

Not only that, the gardens around the house were done by my father himself. He tidied it up every day. Sometimes I even see him talking to some of his plants.

"You grow healthy, produce beautiful flowers in bloom. And you mango tree, bear abundant fruit, so that all my neighbors may taste your fruit." So approximately the speech of the father if it has begun to water or touch the plant.

In contrast to mother, he only admired how beautiful the flowers in the garden around his house, without wanting to take care of him. Wh why? Because mom worked. But make no mistake, my father also worked, a Curator. Dad's job is more flexible, so you have a lot of time to be at home. Until finally my father had a heart attack.

That night...

It was just me and Dad at home. After we finished dinner, I helped Dad to wash all the cutlery we had used. While the father, made a pot of hot black coffee, then brought it to his study. Complete with two cups in his other hand.

I finished my work, the kitchen and the dining table were cleaned, "Kinclong!!" I exclaimed proudly, seeing that everything had returned neatly.

I'll soon be following Dad to his study. Normally you would be very busy there and I could only sit in my royal seat. The chair that Dad made, was special to me.

"Dad, tonight what else will be researched?" I asked while sitting in my chair while grabbing a book from the shelf.

"A gallery wants you to choose some good paintings for them to display during the show" he said, who has started doing his work.

I nodded and sat back sweetly while reading a book of my favorite novel. I was swept away by the story in the book until I did not realize again if the atmosphere of the room had become quiet. No more little noise you make. With curiosity and with the novel book I still hold, I immediately turned from behind the back of my chair so large.

I jerked!!

Half my body is on the table. Between fear and panic, I stood approaching slowly while calling out to him.

"D-dad? Uh yeah?" I touched his shoulder, there was no answer.

Is it possible that Dad fell asleep?

But a period of falling asleep with cheeks pressed against paintings?

Is that how much he loves this painting?

This time I tried to shake my father's shoulder while calling out to him, but nil. Immediately I ran out, headed to the family room, grabbed the phone that was on the buffet, dialed the number of the mother's phone.

"Mother!! Dad didn't want to get up, I've called him so many times," I cried in panic as my mother answered my phone.

I followed my mother's instructions to do first aid to my father as soon as we finished talking. While the mother will call the emergency, and call our neighbors to help me immediately, while the mother follows to go home soon.

I ran back to my dad's office. With all my strength, I tried to pull my father's body to rest on the back of the chair. Then I hugged my father, I lifted him up, and I pushed his wheelchair out of his ass. I slowly bent my father's body with my legs as a pedestal. Father was already in a sitting position on the floor, then I laid his body perfectly.

The mother said the position of this rebound will help the father's breathing. Many times I called out to him, but there was still no sign that he would open his eyes immediately. I see his chest, still slowly going up and down, the sign is that he is still breathing!

As for me, my breathing was wheezing, I tried to regulate my breathing rhythm. Now my whole body has been bathed in my own sweat. In my cheeks, the water of sweat and tears had become one entity, dripping down the end of my chin. I freaked. Sitting helplessly, seeing the condition of the father like that.

Just a few minutes Dad was treated by a doctor. Suddenly a middle-aged man came out from behind the door that separated me from my father.

"Sorry, which family?" asked the man I thought he was a doctor, judging by his clothes.

"Mother is on the road. My dad why, Doc?"

The doctor smiled at my question. Then he spoke to the two neighbors who had helped and accompanied me. They're a couple. The doctor told me that my father was gone. Then suddenly they embraced each other, the wife wept bitterly in her husband's arms.

I'm dumbfounded. My tears were running out, I could no longer cry. My breath is hunting, it's getting irregular. The Doctor was still talking to the two neighbors, but my thoughts had been muddled. I can no longer hear what the doctor said.

My world is broken. Only my father has been with me since I got home from college. There are so many things that Dad hasn't taught me. There are so many words I haven't said to my dad. Even to say 'i love her', I haven't had the time..

Then a pair of my neighbors went to take me home, so that all the funeral process of my father could be prepared. They also called my mother to tell me that. I could only sit in the back seat of their car.

The funeral is complete.

Guests have said goodbye to go home. I can't even remember anyone who's been humped by me and bowed his body, just to say his condolences.

Mother was there then. But there is something that I think is strange. He seemed to be away from me. The more the day the more away, even to just eat a table with me he was reluctant.

After my father died, I was alone with my bundle in this house. From morning until noon, I spent time in college. At the same time, I deliberately took additional courses or just sat on campus until evening. In the library reading books.

While mother, also do the same thing, morning go to the office until night. Met me in the kitchen just to grab a drink, then he immediately went into his room. Without looking at me, without greeting me or even smiling at me.

I seem to be the unluckiest woman in the world. Lost my only father and now my mother is away from me. I don't know what the cause is, I don't know. It's very difficult for me, looking for the right timing just to chat with mom. Every time I say hello, my mother ignores me. Even impressed not to know about me anymore.

Until the moment where Aunt Nia came to visit. She cried hugging my mother tonight in the television room, sitting on the couch. Because at my father's funeral a few days ago, only he was absent. Then, he asked her to tell him what had happened..

"That night, I got a call from Danisya. He said that his father was sleeping on the table. Many times he called his father, but there was no answer. Until I advised him to lay his father's body on the floor, so that his breathing returned smoothly. Then I called Leon and Anna, my neighbors. I asked them to help Danisya save James," said the mother at the beginning, as she began sobbing.

I sat on the other couch, listening to my mom tell her everything to Aunt Nia. Actually I don't want to hear this mother's story, because it will only make me sad again. But I also do not want to show Aunt Nia, if my relationship with my mother becomes distant, after the departure of this father.

"But who would have thought, they instead found Danisya who was also lying limp on the floor, not far from her father. Leon tries to help James, while Anna has already picked up Danisya to get into the ambulance. But it turned out that both of their lives could not be saved," - the mother again sobbed - "why should I lose them both?" The crying finally exploded.

Me? The climbing!

My brain is still trying to understand the last sentence after sentence you said earlier. Trying to digest every word you say. My breathing rumbled, my nose started to tighten again.

"Mother, I'm still here, I'm not leaving you alone" I said as I stood up and approached the mother who was still hugging Aunt Nia.

I grabbed his shoulder.

Wuzz!! I can't touch her.

I tried again with both hands.

Wuzz!! My hands can't touch it at all. I'm panicking.

"Tante Nia, I'm here! Aunty can see me, right?" myrag.

But aunt Nia just cool to calm mom, as if I'm not here. Wait up!! Is there nothing here?! Am I also dead?

I retreated my footsteps slowly, my brain seemed unable to think about all this.

My tears slowly flowed in both corners of my eyes, which then soaked both of my cheeks. It's impossible if I'm gone!

"I knew they both had the same respiratory illness. I shouldn't have left them alone at home every night. I should have taken care of them more than I was busy making money. I should have been more concerned with them!" raung mother increasingly blamed herself.

My brain is completely incapable of digesting everything. The sound of lightning out there doesn't scare me. Flash after flash of lightning welcomed the gloomy atmosphere tonight. I came out of the house, then half ran through the rain, towards the cemetery where my father was buried. The tears on my cheeks had been erased, the drowning of the torrent of rain that was now drenching my entire body. Rain is not an obstacle for me to seek the truth.

Just a little more, I arrived in front of my father's grave.

I'm back to flinching!!

As soon as I saw my name clearly engraved on the same tombstone next to my father's tomb. My heart crumpled, my heart stopped beating. I can't believe what I saw.

Am I really gone?