Friday night at 21.00 pm. When alone in my room. Nothing left except the memories I experienced with my uncle’s keritink. Sometimes I find myself remembering all that. Especially when I drink a glass of milk in bed. He started calling me Lala. I touched his hand and he looked at me. Slowly my lips began to touch her lips gently. We do not care about a glass of milk spilled on the bed. Everything feels so beautiful and fun.
“*Thock, thock, thock” the sound of the door knocking awakened me from the sweet memories. I got out of the bedroom and headed for the front door of the house. After I opened the door I did not see anyone outside of my house. I slowly walked to the front of the house to look at around. But I really don’t see anyone in front of my house. When I want to go back to my house, I hear someone crying.
I immediately turned and looked at the guava tree. Under the guava tree I see a woman wearing white clothes. Her face wasn’t visible because of her long black hair. Her crying voice turned into a grim laugh. I want to run but my heart doesn’t want to go. Fear fills in my heart and mind. But the woman disappeared when my uncle came. My uncle came by riding a motorcycle.
Uncle: hallo Lala.
Me: hallo my beloved uncle.
Uncle: what are you doing here?
Me: oh, I’m just, waiting for you to come.
Me: yes, let’s go in.
In my house we just watch the television.
Me: do you know “*ngisikan”?
Uncle: what is that?
Me: later if you and I had married, I will do “*ngisikan” then I will cook, and after that both of us eat a rice on one plate at the house.