Wounds From you

23. Dead in the hands of mama

The woman thought about it before leaving the hostel, she gently kissed Gibran on the forehead and stroked his hair.

“Mother go! Later if you are aware, do not look for the same mother cry yes.” His scales approached Gibran's ears, so that Gibran sounded faint and he wrote a letter that Gibran had to read.

Let Gibran not cry all night intact, the end was angry so a child. Gotta say A, don't argue finally run into a drink.

Usually is.

Arina momentarily exhaled and scooped greedy air, she could not actually but with a heavy heart now the woman to lift her feet from this boarding house.

In accompanied by a bag that already contains valuable items, who knows later to meet a house or boarding house that can be stayed for him.

The woman gazed full of teardrops, she wiped it while staring far away began to walk out of this Gibran boarding area.

Actually kasian but want how else, he has to go.

Arina smiled faintly, she stopped right in front of the boarding gate in the area near the Gibran boarding house.

The woman while looking at passing vehicles to be dismissed, she will stay in the area but not too close to be a few pounds taken.

Let it not be far.

“Hm, with this capital. Just reckless! Important prayer is just as intent,” he said waiting for the vehicle. Finally a few minutes waiting, the woman found a passing vehicle that is a motorcycle that is usually made ngojek the same father-father happened to pass his father.

“Stop, sir!” exciting Arina.

The father who rode the two-wheeled motorcycle stopped not far Arina stood, “Why, mbak?” with a helmet that is slightly tilted, it may be the hallmark of the ojek masters usually if the phone is tucked continuously as a result of the tilt of the helmet.

Arina laughed softly, he then approached with a slow step and he did not want to rush to get close to his father, later afraid he sprained because of his feet are not careful.

“That's a lot sir, the helmet of the father tilted I want the father of Arina anterin to a cheap boarding house yes sir, first recommendation! Deket here,”

His father was pensive while thinking and soon nodded in agreement without long.

The person's cake is a reflection of his patience as thin as a tissue so without wasting a long time.

Finally the woman handed her bag to her father and the father accepted, Arina wants to go up slowly. Her father nyerocos first.

“Over time, mbak! It's spit! This chases the order again which is still awaited because.” Her father sewot and Arina exhaled tired breaths.

“No longer know what pregnant, sir?” he said by stabbing and making his father look at Arina's stomach that looked bloated, the father smiled widely.

“Sorry, come on!”

“Iya, but later tell me the cheap boarding recommendations yes sir where is the important deket from here!” arina and her father agreed.

His father finally runs his motor engine with Arina who has climbed on the bike.

The woman smiled to see all the people who were seen gathering in the street area, was buying cooked vegetables usually. It is close to the Gibran boarding house, many people are flocking to sell because in this area it is a lot of residents.

“Pak, later stop by the supermarket huh. Make buy—

And sure enough, his father braked suddenly, because he did not hear what was said by his passengers so surprised.

Astagfirullah

He also removes the fear for a moment, then turns off the engine so that Arina confused suddenly this father kok strange.

“What's up, sir?”

“Oh no, that's me again shocked.” He stuttered and Arina let out a slow breath.

“Ya. Now go on, sir!”

“Iya, this is for more.” Soon his father ran his motorcycle again to the place where Arina went.

Although a little bit unnerving but connected with the sentence, it would not be wrong to connect the words with the ending Ket.

What is a supermarket is not a minimarket, usually if not by the beginning it is connected. It would be taboo if we thought we were fighting again.

Indeed, his hearing is somewhat disturbed, maybe it could be called tungarungu.

***

“ARSHAL.” Call someone out loud and then move quickly to catch the child so as not to escape his lecture later.

A woman finally caught Arshal, and the hand pulled Arshal's ear until the boy grimaced in pain.

“Mah, my goodness. Yes, it's me here. Not going to run away,” Arshal tugging his mama hands to be separated from his ears that almost felt half dead he held back so as not to scream like a woman.

Mamah Arshal stared hard and pierced.

Arshal gulped his saliva rough, seeing that his guts were a bit shrunk. Where is the location of a child who likes arbitrarily with his wife, no wonder anymore. Mamah clucked in annoyance, slapping hard on the cheek of her beloved son.

Plaque.

Krkc.

Emang not about if mukul, this mak-mak jago also if mukul.

The meaning was paralyzing his legs so that Arshal's position is under his mamah on it, papah just look and watch. If it had gone too far to eat the world fights to a hundred immortals again would have started.

Papah, the man who has been pumping mamah is said to have managed to enter the defense room which had been guarded by his own wife. That is his wife's secret room, somehow his wife was often in and out of the room so that it appeared in his mind to enter the room.

Eh until there even he who was hit and intimidated until many times he got the torture yes, a little info torture is actually this cake of women is not a woman but a demon who incarnates.

Papah watched from the top stairs by putting a cigarette butt in his mouth, then the smoke came out everywhere.

How acquired?

People are equally brutal and mischievous, where can prohibit.

There is a word prohibition, must be broken.

Now timidly his son looked at his mother, the mother looked at him coldly and flatly.

“Mah, what's the matter?” ask her while advancing her mouth.

“What's up? HUH!!! YOU'RE NO FUCKIN' HUSBAND AT ALL! WHAT DID YOU SAY YESTERDAY? WHWHAT? ASK NOW!” He said with a high voice and the veins around his neck popping up, Arshal closed his eyes tightly.

The man was willing to lie, but what power would he have if he answered honestly fearing it would kill his own son.

He closed his eyes as he breathed out.

He did not dare.

What was.

He asked himself, his mother asked about this.

It will not be spread for long, sure enough.

Finally choosing his shortcut, he lied this time.

“Hm, yes. He asked for it, I didn't know it. There is no way I was the one who upset him for what he tried,” reply without any fear to be pounced on by his mother who was in front of him. His mama's knee was in his stomach, so yeah he couldn't do anything. Trying to move alone had already gotten a killing gaze from the woman who had given birth to it.

He wanted to cough the truth, it was too strong that his mama's knee stepped on his stomach. This is the part that Arshal doesn't like the most.

Mamah then stared fiercely and her face turned red.

“WHAT? YOU ARE SO STUPID YES!” His mama's ejek while pressing his knee so that Arshal fireworks hold his mama's knee like a man's energy.

Mamah's hands point to Arshal's chin, his neck and mamah strangle Arshal's neck.

“Have a child so useless to you! THAT'S MAMAH'S BELOVED SON-IN-LAW, NOT THAT YOU CAN STAND IT! IT'S LIKE THIS, OUCH.” His mother let out a shrill tone until Arshal's papah on the stairs backed away to avoid a tantrum. It feels like his ear drum will break if this is the case.

Because of the daughter-in-law's problems.

So it's kind of complicated. In fact, the problem has been a long time. It had been weeks of being lived by the three of them, but there had been nothing all this time.

Eh kok ya until it sounded to his mama's ears.

Arshal threw out his powerful hand that would kill him right now.

The mama's getting suffocating so strong that Arshal can't scoop up much oxygen.

The tighter and less Arshal could imagine, the more sin he would be willing to let go.

With teardrops that he could not stand, as a boy whose horse was strong but he really felt his life to last today.

He may cry this time, but forever he will remain in one soul.

It is to be a person who can stand with grief, concealing his wounds.

Uh he doesn't deserve to be called that.

Arshal is a son who is not proud, but he can obey his mother's will and papa to marry a woman who is not too clear for his family.

And the man is now limp in his own hands.

Dead in his hands.

—

Yayak thanks🤜😂

see you next bye-bye✋🖐👋