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

'Thank God, I'm glad to hear that,' Her voice sounded like someone who was eating and talking at the same time with her mouth still full but forced it to speak. Honestly, I felt bad because I seemed to be bothering her.

However, there was one thing that made me curious, that was why I called her back. "Mala?"

"Do wandering spirits need breakfast too?" I suddenly heard a forced laugh from her, it turned out that what I had guessed was right. Mala and her father were already dead, and the owner of the diner restaurant had told me the truth.

Mala explained to me that she was a wandering spirit too. She lived in the body of the marionette in the shop window that I had visited at that time. She just wanted to guard the place forever because her mother really wanted to tear down the building that her father had worked so hard to build, so she could sell the land.

147. Red Paper Umbrella