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 ^^ ***
The Half-Blood Wizard: Thief Of Time
Stealing The Wife's First Kiss
Once A CEO Wife
Mr CEO's Beloved Wife
Mr CEO’s Pregnant Wife

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Tale Of The Half-Blood Wizard

I paused for a moment, considering the right choice of words so I wouldn't offend the person on the other end of the line. "Sorry, are you really the bookstore owner's first daughter?!"

There was laughter there. "Yes, I am his daughter. I told you, didn't I, that I was his first daughter?!" She laughed lightly again after that. Meanwhile, I was getting more and more confused. "Did you get the book?" She asked again.

I just wanted to go with the flow and pretended not to know even if I felt so mixed up between confusion and fear, was it possible that the owner of the restaurant had lied. I answered all her questions and we chatted all the way home. We became acquainted very briefly.

Her name was Mala, a cashier at a bookstore as her father had told her last night. We could understand each other's thoughts probably because we're so used to seeing things like spirits, though I still didn't know much.

134. Melody of Death