Bebegigs
Chapter 38's

"Huh?"

Magenta closed his eyes, trying to resist the nausea so as not to vomit.

The god released his grip but did not move away.

"Gue came to warn," he repeated, his head peeling until he hitched a ride on his shoulder. Magenta opened his eyes and saw the flesh of the God's torn neck.

"Kade Bebegig" whispered the Lord.

"Yes" said Magenta, nodding with concern. Everything is spinning, it's spinning fast. He had to close his eyes again.

If only he could free himself from that smell, it was very rotten, very sour, very disgusting, very sickening.

"Yes, Gen. Si Yasa was Bebegig," The god warned, extending a hand to Magenta while drifting backwards.

"Gue tau," Magenta whispered, his eyes closed. "Gue already knows, De."

"Denger," hissed God, suddenly his voice sounded far away. "I'm horrified, Gen. I came to warn you. He's Bebegig."

"Yes. I know, God. I know!" magenta screams with a loud sob. His eyes were tightly closed. He tried not to catch his breath. The smell was very strong, very unbearable.

"Gue already knows," he repeated weakly. "But I'm so tired."

Silent.

Magenta's eyes remained closed.

"Gue's tired, De. The vow. I'm just. I'm really tired."

Silent.

"Sori, De's. I'm really sorry. But I'm tired now. I'm just. I'm tired."

And…

Everything went dark.

Magenta's consciousness slowly returned, and one of his eyes peered out at the window. A gray morning light entered the room.

he groaned and tried to open his eyes again, then gave up and closed the two again.

he doesn't remember falling asleep. He doesn't remember sleep.

he only remembered the dream.

Will my dreams about God stop? ask in the heart. He yawns, stretches his legs.

"Hei—"

he got up and looked down and blinked his eyes.

he's still dressed. Still wearing jeans shorts and polo shirts along the same length as when he was with Kantata.

"Ohh," he looked, his damp, sand-stained sneakers were still wrapping around his feet.

The sand was scattered on the sheets. He must have directly collapsed onto the bed, unknowingly.

he grabbed his wearer, his Walkman pushed and fell to the floor with a noise. It's only seven-quarters now. It's too early.

What smell is filling his nose?

That sour smell?

It's in his neck too. As if it was on his skin.

Did he vomit unconsciously?

Still gnashing his eyes and struggling to get up, Magenta sighed as his body stood staggering and circulated a glance.

Pieces of dreams flashed in his mind.

What a horrible dream. Very real.

It was so real that its sickening aroma still smelled.

he staggered into the mirror above the closet and held on to the top of the closet so as not to fall.

Despite sleeping for hours, he did not feel rested at all and did not feel refreshed.

He remembers the first time he experienced it when he was caught in a fog and just swirled around in the same place for an entire night.

But last night he wasn't caught in the fog.

I must have been sick, he thought, a sickening smell attacking his nose.

he nudged the tissue box until it fell to the floor. Without trying to pick it up, he observed the mirror.

And saw dark bruises on his cheeks and neck.

And know this isn't a dream.

"God came here to warn."

he leaned forward, pressing down on the low wooden cabinet so he could see more clearly.

The dark bruises look like root tattoos or vine tendrils. Urate image. The color is bluish black. Bruises creeping. The place the mysterious slap landed.

The same wound as the wound on the neck of an orange.

And they are both often exhausted.

Bebeggig it! Magenta concluded.

That scarecrow!

The ghost of the scarecrow is the cause of all this, he thought.

The gods came to warn me to beware of Yasa.

While watching the mirror, Magenta raised two fingers to his neck, then slowly and hesitantly touched the bruise.

Didn't hurt.

he pressed the wound lightly.

It doesn't hurt at all.

And now what can I do? What do I do best?

he realized his feet were shaking. He felt very weak, not energetic at all.

His head was so dizzy, he walked back to bed. He sat on the bed and tried to take off his shoes.

But the effort was too much for him.

I have to do something—have to warn Orange.

Sighing he dropped his body on his back, both of his arms hanging limply on the side of the bed.

"I must warn the orange" he whispered, trying hard to open his eyes. "Must save us..."

Then he fell asleep again. Not proper sleep, but deep unconsciousness. Darkness without dreams.

Some time later he was awake by hands that shook him violently.

"De?" he cried, sitting up straight. "Turn back again?" he murmured, trying hard to be conscious. He felt as if he were at the bottom of the ocean, trying to push himself upwards, breaking through the heavy whirling waves .

It is not God who shakes him. Apparently father.

"You want to wake up, huh? Fucking bum males!" call his father, pretend to be angry.

"Huh? What time is it?" Magenta saw a bright golden sunlight flooding his room through the open curtains.

"We are the only ones you can sleep until ten" said his father, pointing at the weker. "Now it's time to wake up, we have to go. Come onl. Buru, change clothes. You have breakfast later."

"Whoa." Magenta tried to lower his foot to the floor."Did I forget something?" he blinked his eyes at his father, still unable to open them at the same time.

"Say you want to lure me?" His father pushed Magenta's shoulder jokingly. "Hunt, Ngedul." I mean his father's a slacker. His father started to move to the door.

"I can't" said Magenta, collapsing back onto his pillow.

His father flipped in the doorway, a concerned expression looming on his aging handsome face. "Why? You sick?"

"Yes" said Magenta. "No. I mean, I don't know."

"Why are you?" Magenta's father stepped back into the room, pulling down his white V-necked sweater arm.

"I'm just tired, Dad. Very tired," said Magenta, without lifting his head from the pillow. "I think I'll go down to breakfast later, huh."

"You look like a big shoot, it's like you need to sunbathe" said his father, blinking his eyes. "Keep that what? A tattoo?"

"What tattoo?" ask Magenta.

"That's your cheek, really, like Jurig Bebegig?"

Magenta finally remembered the bruised bruise with tendrils that had crept down his cheek.

Father's right.

The bruise was shaped like a scar on the face of a scarecrow that they had made some time ago.

"I'm so tired" said Magenta. "I think I want to sleep at home."

His father saw a fleeting clock. "Yes, yes" he said hesitantly. "Father also drifted into the rice fields, nemenin your mother. Are you really okay?"

Magenta nodded. "Please forgive my pardon to mom" she licked.

"Goddy" his father snorted as he flicked his hand and turned around, then began to walk away.he stopped again at the door and sniffed the air.