The Tomb Next to the House
51. The Inner Eye is Restless

I woke up in a room that looked foreign. There was no intention to leave the room that belonged to who it was. I sat with my back leaning against my head. A pair of neutrals glared straight ahead, still trying to digest what was happening.

With these eyes I could not tell which was real and which was not. I began to doubt my own beliefs. Living beings and invisible beings, all look the same, no difference in my eyes.

Without wondering, finally one of the questions in the mind was answered. When the figure of a tall man opened the door that was slightly open with his feet, because both hands were busy carrying trays containing plates and glasses.

Why the hell, did he have to bother like that? Don't know what, I'm not eating at all. Even if I could just want to eat him alive, because the feeling of arrogance when seeing his face is increasingly becoming.

"Are you awake?" ask her with a voice that sounds soft, while putting a tray on the table near the bed.

I don't intend to answer. This tongue feels mute, also a dry throat because it does not receive mineral intake from nowhere.

"Eat first," he bargained. Take a plate from the tray and try to put a spoon of rice in my mouth.

"Since when?" I started to open my mouth.

Not to devour the rice that has been right in front of the lips, but to ask about what is weighing on the mind.

"One bribe, one answer" Bryan said, making me look at him dislikeingly.

"How's it?" He's still charging because he hasn't got an answer from me.

"Okay," I resigned.

A smile with sparkling eyes was seen from his face. I don't know why he looks like an angel now. But I must remain vigilant with the good that is given. Because he could have pounced when I let my guard down.

Don't want something that happened again. I need to stay on standby. Most importantly I have to get answers that I might not be able to get from others. Bryan seemed to know a lot about the death of my husband and in-laws.

Honestly, I still can't believe they left me like this. But there is no harm in hearing the story of the man who had pulled the plastic chair and positioned himself beside the bed.

Bryan had lifted the spoon, but I quickly grabbed the plate in his left hand. "I can do it myself."

"Good."

I feed a spoonful of rice along with vegetables and side dishes into the mouth. Hemm, good too.

"Quick tell me everything. I want to hear," I urged impatiently with a mouth full of food.

"Hehe. O-okay. I know they died about 2 months ago. At that time, I was expelled from the village Prohibition and then shuffled indistinctly for several weeks until finally decided to hide in this village." Bryan started telling me when it wasn't in my question.

But never mind, I have no job either. There is no harm in listening to a story while eating. Given the events of 2 months ago, it seems like it was when Raihan left the house without saying goodbye because I told him about Rada.

Bryan's mouth turned soft, then a split minute he continued. "I heard rumors about a family being slaughtered by robbers when they accidentally left the house to eat. Raihan's name was mentioned. Makes me automatically sharpen my hearing."

"Four can't believe that he's the Raihan I know. But when I visited the scene and saw the police line, as well as information from some neighbors, I became sure that the victims were Raihan, your husband and your two in-laws."

From Bryan's story, I learned that I was still in Sukaraja village, the village where my husband grew up and where he died.

Just thinking about it already makes the chest tight. I stopped the rice mouthful for a moment, in order to pick up the oxygen that felt empty.

I can't remember when the tears started to blur my eyes. Even a few drops of it had already fallen on the plate, mixed with the rice and vegetables I had eaten.

"Eh, yes his spirit is wandering. He said malem-alem like dateng knock on the door of the house people to ask for help."

Suddenly an unfamiliar speech flashed through the brain. About the gossip of one family being killed by robbers and the ghost haunts villagers for help.

It turns out that the time to go home from Surti's grandmother to ask for help first, which I gossip is with other mothers is my own husband and father-in-law?!

And what's even more amazing is, for these 2 months I lived with the spirit of my beloved husband? But it makes no difference to me living with Althaf and Rada.

Are my two children also lost?

The plate I held plunged free from the hand and ended up on the floor with a terrible. The sound of broken plates clashing with the loudness of the tiles was not heard in my ears at all. Immediately I contemplated that life had suddenly turned into a tragedy.

Unlike Bryan who jumped from his seat. Stare nanar at the messy tiles with rice splattered everywhere.

"Hiks .... " Isak lirih is back to music in the ear.

Suddenly Bryan led me to fall into his arms. Ignoring the common sense that asked to stay away, my cries broke. Making the coas-clad field chest wet with tears.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this? Wouldn't it be outrageous if a wife didn't know her own husband's death?" racauku in the middle of a heart-wrenching cry.

"I-it's because .... "