dewisetyaningrat

12 years ago remained a nightmare for me. Years past but that horrible nightmare haunted me so vividly when a bullet was shot through the head of my friend. He fell down heavily right in front of me. Feeling confused, afraid, and whatsoever it was named was mixed up in my head. I did not know what I was supposed to do at that time, but crying. 

Now 12 years has passed but anytime that moment shadows me, the exactly same feeling will wash over me. It feel as if I don't do not anything good to make a change although it happens over and over again right in front of me. 
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I walked along the path heading to the end, cold and dark with no lights. The wooden walls built around the place prevented the lights from outside to penetrate in. When I arrived there, I put a bouquet of white lily on a white marble written ‘Zie’.

“I am home,” I whispered.

I sat beside the tomb, taking out some cookies and two boxes of our favorite milk. “How are you doing there? Are you okay? Do you eat well?” I rubbed the tomb gently. “Wait for me,” I whispered.  
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*** Follow My Book Dear ^^ ***
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Mr CEO’s Pregnant Wife

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Tale Of The Half-Blood Wizard

The magnificent buildings along this street did not trouble me to see a small alley to my house. In a glimpse, I saw a little girl who was riding her red bicycle and looked cheerful.

At that time, the cold morning weather did not stop that little girl and her boyfriend was going to school. She smiled sweetly and laughed joyfully. And everything in Zie was clearly caught in my mind.

"Are you crying?" Erick's voice abruptly pulled me from my unforgettable memory I badly wanted to get rid of. I knew exactly that it was just a past time which now became my memory.

I was not aware how long had I wetted my cheeks, "Sorry," I wiped my cheeks fast. .

Erick was just silent. He cleared his throat and continued focusing on the street.

The sky had changed the colors, the combination of gray and orange painted on a magnificently huge white background welcomed our coming to Mr. Stone's shop.

64. Memory of incident