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Neighbors whispered fancy stories about Metta. It is said that she is voiced as the richest man in the city where she lives. There is not only one house, it is in remote villages and densely populated cities. People respect him not because he is worthy of respect, but because Papa and Mama's treasures are devoured. Unfortunately, the house as grand as a palace and the stout pillars soaring into the sky was only inhabited by her older brother, Fury, other servants and gardeners.

Metta queen in a two-story house that makes the middle and lower class envious of her family's glory. Somehow the story of the very rich Papa built a house in a poor village. The population there is the majority of the proletariat. Construction workers, babu in urban factories, office workers who only serve as Cleaning Service or cooks, and many more who are devoted to nature—cultivating submerging rice, fattening corn kernels, or digging sweet potatoes.

So the appearance of the people in Metta's eyes is shabby, always pale from exhaustion, don't polish with beauty powder. Truly country people, as she once called them.

Her brother is still in college, he is studying economics. Metta interprets to continue Papa's business overseas. There are fast food restaurants in Dubai, there are also Chinese food restaurants in Dubai, not to mention a mall as high as Monas in Dubai, yes, all abroad, to be precise in Dubai. Papa and Mama Metta are more interested in creating jobs in foreign lands than in their homeland. It is said that they will only spend time in their homeland struggling with their families. Not really! Every time Metta's parents come home, they are busy receiving calls from strangers.

"Metta," her brother called as he stepped out of the kitchen. A bowl of steaming asparagus soup. He wanted to start breakfast in the family room while enjoying an action film from a 2 x 3 meter wide screen.

Metta pursed her lips, not liking the drakor series that was being watched by Fury.

"Brother, Fury! What are you doing? Disturbing other people's fun is the same as robbing them of their rights!" shouted Metta through the veins in her neck.

"Let's have breakfast!" The young man did not care about Metta's emotions. He was spooning soup while glaring at the screen.

Metta snorted. Getting up from the seat stepped outside to get some fresh air. Hunger has not yet visited the digestive tract. Looking up at the sky and the activities of the inhabitants of this small town, flanked by two mountains and filled with rice fields, is more appealing than the smell of asparagus soup.

All the housemaids are busy completing their routine duties. Some are watering the plants, sweeping the yard, mopping the marble floors, cooking in the kitchen, and shopping at the market. Always busy morning.

Metta saw a worm wriggling on the ground next to the fish pond in the yard. Close to the car garage there is a small garden overgrown with ornamental flowers and shrubs. There is a nation of worms, caterpillars, and even butterflies that often disturb boredom. Metta's most favorite corner area is the garden. Even though his large house was occupied by a private studio so she could play karoeke to his heart's content, there was also a piano, a swimming pool with running water, and even a billiards room, still—the garden was a favorite location for telling the insects his life.

Metta picked up the worm, put it in the jar that was always there. Empty jars idle waiting for residents. A jar of used instant snacks or food in Metta's kitchen picks up to be transformed as a home for them. If it is occupied, it will be transported to a private room. Fury is disgusted by the hobby, but banning Metta will only cause problems.

The problem is that that morning there was a predator that interfered with Metta's leisure time. A resident entered through the main gate which is always open, they came to hit the body of the door of Metta's house. One twilight-faced mother with the hope of help. The other is a small man who is thought to be ten years old. They put on a sad face, as if a few days did not reap happiness. Dirty clothes and a sour body odor.

"What is it?" without needing to open the door Metta can greet them from outside. The worms have been put in the jar. Her hands were dirty with mud. But don't care. She sat on the terrace floor of the house watching the worms wriggling, for him she was dancing because he was happy to occupy a new house which he thought was clean.

The resident squatted, visited Metta's body position. "I'm sorry, Mrs Metta. I want to borrow money, my husband's wages have not been paid this week, the rice has run out." The mother said matter-of-factly.

"People like you are always in trouble! How many come here just to beg for help? Why don't any of you share the fun with us? Always just please and help!" Yes! Her house is a witness for poor people to complain about their suffering. It's not a coincidence, it's not a use because the family is rich, but all because of Papa and Mama's message telling the villagers there to contact Metta if there is an urgent need.

"For what reason should I help you? Of course don't mention my Papa and Mama's names!"

"Because we are human, we live in the same place, Ma'am. If there is a problem, we must be helped,"

said the mothers again. "Because the shop has closed itself, it doesn't want to give us rice anymore," said the woman with puffy eyes.

Last night he may have spent sending prayers of well-being to the sky.

"Nonsense excuses! Go! Don't interrupt my time again!"

"Please, I promise if I have the money I will return it."

"Isn't it true that the borrower of kindness always says that? Promises and promises that are reluctant to be kept,"

"I will fulfill it!" The mother tried hard to convince Metta.

"Go, noisy!"

Even though the mother really hoped for help from Metta. She is selfish. Look at the little boy who was led by the mother, he looks lethargic this morning and hasn't had breakfast. His father is a construction worker who has not received wages from the foreman. Poor construction workers often get late wages. Metta knows this from the vegetable seller and the mothers who shop early in the morning in front of the house. Their voices always disturb sleep.