Wound Bidder

Luka

"How many times have I banned you from using this cloth. Why not listen to me?" The wide cloth was pulled roughly from the head of the young woman who was staring at him in the mirror.

The wavy beautiful haired lady was apparently dissatisfied there. After the veil she took off, her hand grabbed the young woman's hair, pulling her strong until several strands slipped from the scalp. Not caring about the sick hiss coming out of the little girl's mouth. "If you still want me to think of a child, throw away all these cheap clothes." He removed the hair from his grasp, snapping violently until the victim fell down, sobbing on the floor. It was sliced that the young woman's heart got the treatment from her own mother, while holding tightness in the chest she dared to look at the woman who gave birth to it. "Until any time I won't throw away these clothes. I'll wear clothes like this until I die. No one can stop me because it is my duty. Sorry, Ma. I can't keep up with your wishes. How hard Mama forbids, I'll stick to my stance."

Plakk

"Broody brash. Why are you so stubborn, huh?" The red-painted nails pointed at Dilla who was holding the cheek. He dragged Dilla into the bathroom, locked her there. He locked his daughter up until the next day, without being fed and drunk. The same thing that happened ten years ago. The next morning the woman Dilla called Mama scratched her daughter's right hand with a dagger. The helpless pale Dilla was only able to cry without a sound. Letting the wound fuse with another scar. "It's a punishment for you against me!"

After saying that he came out with a knife full of blood. Dilla dragged the weak body out of the cold place. With the rest of his energy, his trembling hands groped the nightstand drawer, looking for a P3K box.

Carefully he treated the wounds that were almost the same as before. "God please end this." The tears flowed. "If I could choose. I don't want to be born from her womb."

***

"Where are you? You okay?"

When Dilla woke up, it was the sound she first caught in her sense of hearing. He scanned the surroundings as well as the figure who was looking at him worriedly.

"Hospital," replied the sweet figure briefly. He took the water in the nightstand and gave it to Dilla who unhesitatingly accepted. He sipped water in a glass to the toilet. After returning the glass to its original position, it stood up. "I'd rather go than trouble someone else.

The man gets in the way. "Let me take care of you until you get well!"

"thank you. But I don't think it's necessary, 'cause I feel fine."

"Stop pretending. I know you are no longer okay. Please let me take care of you."

"Can't! You're not my mahram." Dilla tried to break through the barrier before her, looking for a gap to escape.

"Gue can marry you," the man replied as if he were happy. Dilla nodded to hear it. "You're crazy! You think marriage is a toy?" Dilla was inexhaustible with this person before her. Why does he talk so easily.

A smile rises on that sweet face. "Gue was very, very sane to say it. I give you 3 seconds to answer, if you are silent it means the answer is yes. We are also getting married today!"