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The Prequel Haikal Al Fatir
Chapters 1.
36 Years ago. West Sumatra.
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“It's ugly, sickly, barren, not dead! Just trouble me you, damn it! PLAKK!” said a man on suspicion of her husband slapping his own wife who is not healthy. Several blows were also received until the woman fell to the ground.
“Ampun, Bang...pardon,” he said weak and did not have the courage to fight.
“How come I married a useless woman like this?!” he said again in Minang. Violence again occurred, the kick landed on his back area until the woman drooped weakly until no longer out the sound of his pale lips.
“Go from here! Go!” the man pointed the way and was about to kick her back. But before it happened again— came a young man suddenly in a fussy outfit, hit him first.
“PANT*K!!” speak in the most rude language. Inevitably, a fight finally happened. “How dare you be female, have no brain, you kanci*ng!”
“You are pant*k. Yesterday afternoon you were cheering, damn it!”
While they were fighting, the woman named Naya got up. He went inside the house to pick up some of his clothes for him to take away.
“Dare you come out without my permission, you're my head!” her husband exclaimed when he found her out with a big bag.
Strange, wasn't he the one who kicked her away? You crazy man!
“Talklah, Bang. Talak.... I also can no longer live with you..” replied Nayana with a restrained sobbing.
“Yes, I'm looking at you. Basic barren!” it was so exciting that in an instant, their status had changed.
A young man who at that time was increasingly furious with this man, then brutally finish him. He almost killed her if he didn't even remember that killing was a sin.
The young man was a neighbor and friend who almost listened to Naya's screams every day. Furious with the treatment of this man made his young soul quite disturbed.
“Uhuk! Uhuk!” the man coughed until he bled.
“You torture him every day like a slave, no brains indeed, you're an asshole!”
“Fuck you, what's your business beating me up, huh? The person I beat up is not your mother, so you don't have to interfere!” exclaimed the man, despite being battered.
“It's not like that how you treat women, you crazy!” after saying so, Haikal ran after Naya who had gone to the left. Directly to the village next door.
Actually, it is not just him who is disturbed by the care of Naya's husband. Yet no one dared to reprimand for fear of being harmed as well. Everyone shrieked in front of the thug—but not with Haikal because he also had a rebellious spirit. It's just that, it's not creatures like this that are targeted.
“Unni! Union!” call Haikal to find the woman. Soon, his figure was found. Maybe it was because of the pain, so he could run even faster. “Unni wait!”
The small-bodied woman turned her head, “What?”
“Wait a minute, where are you going?”
Naya stopped after Haikal stood before her. The man looked with compassion at the woman in front of him, his face bluish bruised, his eyes almost invisible due to the swelling around him.
“Your situation is very concerning. How hard did he hit you?”
“Don't block me,” replied the woman diverted.
“Where are you going?”
Shaking her head, Naya replied, “I don't know. I don't want to see that person again,” he replied softly.
Suddenly lightning struck, the sky also darkened the sign of rain going down.
“It looks like it will rain heavily. How about if Uni comes with me for a while?”
“Your house is near Bang Musfira's house. I'm afraid your family will be in trouble.”
“Not to my house. C'mon!” without waiting for an answer, Haikal pulled her to his late grandmother's house not far from there.
“Maybe this house is ugly, but I think, it's quite comfortable. I also often sleep here if there is a problem with Bundo,” said Haikal when they reached the house that looks simple, but has been made of walls that are quite sturdy. At the same time, it was raining very hard.
“Can I stay here temporarily, Kal?” ask Naya.
“Bby. As long as this house has not been sold.”
“Not that long either, if I've got a place for sure I'll go.”
At that moment, Haikal still saw Naya's tears dripping. Therefore, he said, “Have it been, why did you cry. Precisely you should be grateful to have been separated from the madman.”
“I'm just sad, don't I deserve better treatment?”
“Before I told you, don't let you marry that man just because you don't feel good. But you still take it.”
Is correct. Naya married Musfira two years ago at the age of thirty. Forced because it is considered not practical. She was betrothed by her parents to cover up their shame. Unfortunately, Naya instead gets a bad man, temperament, and likes to torment her because of trivial problems. This began when Naya never could give birth to her offspring.
“I have no choice,” replied Naya with tears still flowing.
“Now you know, right? You must be sorry.”
“If you know this, it's better that I don't marry forever than to marry the wrong person.”
“Then you don't want to go. Even you lasted two years.”
“It's not that easy women go, Kal. I'm a wife. We have a sacred bond. If only divorce was easy—can be done by women, then I have done. Not that easy,” Naya repeats.
“But if it's molesting all day? Are you going to stay there? Want to wait till death?”
“You don't know what marriage is like,” interrupted Naya.
“I know very well, it's because you love her, stupid!”
“Loving or not loving a wedding is worth preserving.”
“Ah... to hell with all that.”
“I believe everyone can slowly change, let alone himself,” said Naya again.
“Dajal still dajal,” said Haikal did not want to lose. He then ends his activities and asks Naya to continue on her own. “I have to go now. If you want to stay, stay. You know how to survive.”
Naya nodded, “Thank you for your help, Kal...”.
The young man immediately went through the rain without answering his question.
He is Haikal Al Fatir, the son of Kauman and Dawiya. He's 22 years old. The age that can be said is still being naughty.
As a neighbor, Naya held him as a child. But who would have thought he was even bigger and taller than her. Stout and sturdy. In his village, he was quite well known. But alas, out there, he became a thief of wealth even though the result was not just to put in his own pocket. Rather than being shared with people in need. Sounds weird, doesn't it?
Tonight, Haikal and his two friends have a target. It was a large gedong house belonging to someone who he said was a state official.
Initially, they felt safe, but unbeknownst to them, they were being framed by several police officers from a distance. Luckily they were so professional that they finally got away from it, although all three had to be scattered in all directions.
The dark made Haikal accidentally infiltrate someone's house. There, he heard the boisterous sound of several policemen searching for his whereabouts.
“Hey, where, you? Out or this bullet hollowed out your limb!” shouted one of the policemen who was being harassed by the others.
"Get you out, you son of a bitch!"
His brain turned, looking for a way to save himself. And maybe this time luck was on his side because by the time he turned his head, he saw a white male robe hanging behind his back.
He put on the clothes, though still wet, then looked for a gap to run to find the nearest musala. 'Maybe I can hide behind these clothes and pretend to worship there.'
Haikal believed that these clothes could save him from the pursuit of time. But without her guessing before, this method actually causes other problems. Because he even thought one of the residents was a religious scholar sent by the government to teach in this village.
“Yes Allah... Ustazes. We waited for you from yesterday, finally you came too,” said the old man grabbed his hand, “ let me kiss your holy hand.”
Haikal suddenly pulled his hand, “Eh! What the fuck?”
“Your hand is sacred.”
“No, my hands are dirty!”
“I'm sure your hands are sacred.”
“No! Don't even try to kiss my hand!” Haikal shook his head, 'maybe this guy thinks I'm a good religious person—while Alfatihah I don't memorize!'
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It's set in 1985, yeah. Maybe it'll be a little jadoel.
