N 6689 M
I looked at the small paper in my hand. I've been staring at these numbers for a couple of days without any results. two days ago when I went to the police office I was informed about the identity of the Echi run-hit man. one of the witnesses managed to memorize the license plate of the escaping motorcycle.
a motorcycle berplat number N 6689 M. for identity of the culprit, unfortunately there is no clarity because the incident of the perpetrator using a full face helmet and leather jacket and black jeans so enough to cover his physical characteristics. which he must have a high se sera Indra .. high enough. the Police are tracking the presence of vehicles from the city of Malang (the letter N is the code of Malang nopol).
this also becomes my own irony for me. wherever I am, every time I see a motorcycle passing me so always interested to pay attention to the license plate. who knows the perpetrator happened to pass in front of me, can i directly beat people. but I'm not calm. I always felt that the culprit could show up at any time, so I would not miss him. and this afternoon I sat on the balcony of my room watching the vehicle passing below. I do not know how many hundreds of times I read the license plate of the vehicle I see since getting information from the police.
"pray aja hopefully the perpetrator through ny ny lo," said Indra who suddenly appeared behind me while carrying a guitar.
I smiled wryly.
"come on bro ... deceased Echi already calm there, do not make him sad with our cries," Indra try to cheer up.
"You do not know how it feels .." I said softly without turning to him
okay I do not know how it feels to lose a boyfriend in this way, but I know it's like losing a friend, "Indra sitting on the other side of the wall." school time I emang not too deket same Echi, even more suitable called Tom and Jerry than a friend. but I was lucky to go to school in Surabaya, I got to know him. "
"where are you originally from?"
"I was born and grew up in Sidoarjo, but after high school I joined my Pakde in Surabaya until college, just work here."
"wah I think this time lo arek-arek Surabaya original."
"weleh weleh ... koe nang endi wae toh le ... le ...." he shook his head then laughed.
"How is your foot, already healed?"
"Well it's pretty good to run a little bit."
I was silent again. my mind wondering about Echi again. ah, how pain this taste. I will reply to Chi, so I met the perpetrators of the collision, I will repay it! I swear I'll make a calculation with him !! is not the debt of life to be paid also?
"sometimes not all the killers are put to death," said Indra as if able to read that is in my mind at this time. "The debt of life is worthy of life, but it is not us who deserve to reply, some are more authoritative to determine the right reply, if the retribution of the legal institution is less than satisfactory, we always have God as a hope.
I quietly listened to his advice. if only it was not a good friend who talked, I would definitely reject his paradigm outright about God's punishment. I'm sure this afternoon will be a fun debate. but I respect Indra. my mind is murky again, I do not want to add more turbid to the debate of the coachman who is in vain.
two weeks have passed since the unfortunate accident. and Indra often men support me to quickly rise from adversity due to loss Echi. I know he must be pity to see me who lately become moody. he's my best friend. thanks guys i dont know what would i be without you, maybe i already nyusul Echi times yaa ...
"Pinjem pick has Ri elo dong," Indra voice interrupted my daydream.
"lah .. do not you have a favorite pick that always lo carry it everywhere?"
Indra does have a signed signature Ahmad Dhani personnel band Dewa19. pick it while he was still active in his fan club Dewa19 during college. just info, Indra is a big fan of the band.
"I forget where naro. lo have right? I'm not used to playing with my fingers."
I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out an orange pick. the cheap pick I bought at a curb shop. Indra picked it up and then started strumming the guitar in his hand.
I thought I would spend the afternoon listening to Indra singing, but we were both silent as we heard the sound.
"the voice of a crying girl!" said Indra.
"from that room," I pointed to the other room. black ladies room ..
his voice is clear. not just the rustle of the wind, but it is as real as I've ever heard. I dared to get close and knock on the door.
"Ri, it's ..." Indra pointed under my feet.
from the narrow gap under the door of the room, there is something out flowing. red liquid. thick red and thick ...
BLOOD.....!!!!!