A Photograph

The boy knew about her innermost feelings and fears; he mapped the trails to her most secluded curves and gardens. The boy could tell her ticking clock, her ticking timebomb, and the slightest laugh she faked or the sadness she masked.

What he didn't know about was the photo the girl took when he was sleeping next to her. What he didn't know was how it was the only thing the girl wanted but couldn't have anymore.

Chances

Becca was no stranger to running the red lights. She just didn't have the patience to wait. She always did it wisely though -- as wise as it possibly could when it came to breaking the law and endangering herself and others. She wouldn't do it if there was a possibility of causing a hopeless traffic jam. She always made sure she could get away with it without causing any unwanted accident or any run-in with the police. So far she had been a little unlucky when it came to the police interference. Three times out of many she had been stopped and fined by cops.

Then one day, it happened. The most excruciating pain Becca had ever felt, running out of chances. There was no cut, no bruise, no blood, and no reason that she could completely comprehend. Her dependable paracetamol couldn't fix it, even the sure-fire retail therapy failed her -- and that after she had spent her savings on unnecessary gadget, unnecessary shoes, and unnecessary alcohol.

That was when she started toying with the thought. More red lights, more chances of crashing. More red lights, more chances of crashing. More red lights... More. Chances. Of crashing. Becca wasn't stupid enough to think the afterlife would be better, she just needed a broken bone, a battered shoulder, a deep cut, anything that she could actually see. Any pain that was actually real and visible to her weary eyes. Then maybe, just maybe, she could focus more on that injury and her pain would hurt less.

So far she had been unlucky, but with alcohol on her side, she really liked her chances.


More red lights...


...more chances of crashing.

That Year

I remember that year. It was a good year. So many adventures, fascinating things, things that mattered, things to look forward to. I came home for Christmas that year, with beautifully wrapped gifts. I liked to think of the colorful papers, glittery ribbons, and the overall festive package as my year end holiday, wrapping the priceless gift that was my life all year long.

I remember that year. It was a good year. It really seemed like life had been too good to me. People were complimenting and telling me about how good I looked. Maybe people at my hometown hadn't seen me in a while, or maybe their eyes played tricks on them. I didn't really care. All I could think about was, if they liked how I looked, hopefully you would too. After all, no one loved me like you.

I remember that year. It was a good year. That was the year I did well on my job, that was the year when I got to travel a lot, that was the year people told me that I looked pretty, that was the year people told me I finally slimmed down, that was the year people said I got a perfect haircut. That was the year I felt really good.


That was also the year when you decided you didn't need me anymore.



I remember that year.

Noises

And as she's washing the dishes, she realizes she hears sounds that aren't even there. A knock on the door, a ring from the phone, even a small beep saying she has a new message, and the only promise that she really needs to be kept,

"I'll be home soon".

a story

You used to be my storyteller,

the lady thought as she took a glance to the old man sitting beside her.

She wondered if stories - like everyone in this life - had expiration date, if stories were mere stories - nothing more, if stories really happened at some point in the past. She was never good in telling dreams apart from reality - a case of deja vu or just a one-time thought that lingered and masqueraded as truth.

While he... He had a way with words. He knew how to entwine one to another wonderfully - he sparked chemistry. But then life happened, time got in the way, imagination dissolved along the way, and he hadn't figured out a way to stop the time. He tried so hard to create a wonderful story that he forgot to live out his.

You used to listen to my silence,

the old man thought as he ignored the stolen glances from the lady right next to him.

tiny dose of listen & write

in the midst of Sindro's celebrated series, I hope it's okay to put a tiny, weeny, listen & write exercise here :)

1. Kissing a Fool - George Michael

I've tried and tried, but I can't help replaying the moment when you told me about how you were connected with her. How she came down with flu and you knew. You woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, and you knew.

And I swear, I've tried. I've tried not to feel these little pinches inside. Failed, I'm telling you. And yes, I've tried not to shed more tears. You think I like this? Failed again. But most of all, I've tried not to think about how you knew she was coming down with flu, but you don't know how I'm breaking into tiny smithereens. The small, continuous, cracking sound is echoing, but you can't hear it.

You don't know.

Matthew's, Martin's, and Morrison's

More Listen&Write exercise from me. This time I'm using www.jango.com for the songs. -Runi.

1. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band

He made it so easy for me. A romantic picnic, a walk on the beach, candles, and music. Yes, the right kind of music. Time-stealing glances, the look-away, and the giggles. Soft touches, sweet kisses, and beautiful words. He made it so easy for me.

It was so easy, but I wasn't ready. But there was no way I could say no. I closed my eyes and let him get close to hold me tight.

"We can always do this another time, you know?" he said, and my eyes fluttered awake. "I wasn't kidding when I said I wasn't going anywhere."

Runi's Listen and Write pt.2

"I put my iTunes on shuffle and wrote a story based on whatever song that came on. When the song stopped, I stopped writing. Didn't edit the story except for typos and grammar mistakes, so these might be crap to you. Did it 5 times then I became tired and it became harder to do. lol. but hey, at least i tried :)" -Sindro


1. Rolling In The Deep - Adele

"I don't know what you're doing, still hanging out with her. You know how I feel about this", send text, text sent, wait.

Beep beep. "Right. I'm sorry."

Idiot, you're not. I know.

"You're not. I know", send text, text sent, wait.

Beep beep. "If you say so."

Eff. Don't pull this on me. Not now.

Runi, doing Sind's Listen & Write

I put my iTunes on shuffle and wrote a story based on whatever song that came on. When the song stopped, I stopped writing. Didn't edit the story except for typos and grammar mistakes, so these might be crap to you. Did it 5 times then I became tired and it became harder to do. lol. but hey, at least i tried :)


1. Ice Storm, Big Gust and You [Tilly and the Wall]

I looked at my reflection on the window before I went in. Pretty dolled up. You had told me to dress up, to leave my work behind, to light up, to live. It was all I need, your encouragement.

And to think that it had been ages since we last met. We had always been like this, hadn't we? A summer break. Frequent, but not all the time. This time I loved myself more. This time, I was prettier. All dolled up.

I stepped in the bar. The same bar that witnessed all of our everything. I sat down and ordered two glasses of Coke. One with lime, one without. I still remembered how you seemed to think that putting lime in drinks was weirder than a baby born with a glow-in-the-dark nose.

Jack and Sally*

The smell of the rain in the afternoon. The grass was beautifully green beneath my feet. I exhaled dramatically as the drops that covered the grass sneaked their way on to my toes. I kept walking to the wooden dock not far ahead, leading its way to the calm surface of the pond that I used to think to be magical. The juxtaposed wooden logs were rotten. But it had been rotten the first time I discovered the place years ago. No one ever renovated the dock, and the dock never let anyone down. Consistencies.

As I sat down on it, I saw myself. Not on the surface of the pond, but just approaching the dock, tiptoeing and giggling from the Peach Schnapps. She was wearing an old, shabby nightgown, but the blush on her cheeks looked radiant with youth and alcohol. Not far ahead of her on the dock, was him. He still wore his hair long and curly, he wore an eye patch and a flamboyant suit. Yes, he was the pirate because he refused to wear green tights.

Prove Me Wrong

Kira-kira lima tetes hujan mulai bersarang di kepalaku. Mana sih si Arki? Alamat pusing kena gerimis deh nih. As if aku belum cukup nyut-nyutan.

Still, I couldn't help but replaying the scene over and over. Riko dan temperamennya yang tiba-tiba meledak. Meneriakiku di tengah-tengah keramaian. "Bercanda ya kamu?!" teriaknya. "Kamu mau putus? Nggak bisa! Karena I'm breaking up with you!" bisiknya dingin setelah sadar semua mata sudah memandangi kami. I couldn't argue with that, jadi aku pergi. Meninggalkannya di coffee shop kecil itu.

Ck. Dikiranya penting, siapa yang minta putus duluan? Kekanak-kanakan. Untung aku sudah putus dengannya.

Mungkin lebih baik aku saja yang menunggu di coffee shop, bukannya jalan kaki tiga blok. Taksi tak ada yang lewat, tetesan hujan pun mulai datang berombongan. Seharusnya sahabatku, Arki--in case that wasn't obvious, sudah datang. Aku selalu meneleponnya untuk keadaan yang inconvenient seperti sekarang.

Aku menaikkan hoodie jaket ke kepalaku, ketika tiba-tiba ada suara klakson dari belakang. Aku menengok dan mobil VW kodok merah Arki yang butut sudah memandangku.

"Hellooo," kataku riang sambil masuk ke kursi penumpang. Seperti biasa cuma disambut senyum miringnya. "Makasih ya udah mau jemput. Soalnya tadi tau-tau Riko harus pergi."

"Right," katanya, sarkastis. Tipikal Arki.

"What?"

"Riko harus pergi?" tanya sahabatku itu sambil mencibir. "Riko pasti harus pergi karena ceweknya yang bernama Lyla mutusin dia tanpa alesan."

"Nuh-uh! Gue ngasih alesan kok!"

"Sorry, maksud gue, tanpa alesan yang jelas."

"Nyeh--" kataku, kehabisan argumen.

Arki kembali memajang senyum miringnya. Kali ini, lebih mengganggu daripada biasanya. Aku pun kembali berargumen.

"Tapi, Ki, untung gue putus. Dia menggila banget tadi. Kasar, teriak-teriak, violent deh. Nggak secara fisik sih--"

"Not the point, La."

"And since when do we have to have a point?" jawabku cengengesan.

Arki tersenyum lebih lebar sekarang, ditambah gelengan kepalanya, dan akhirnya mengangguk kecil--seakan setuju denganku. Gesture andalannya setiap kali dia mau berperan sebagai the bigger, wiser person. Ciri tipikal lain dari Arki: sok. Cih.

*****

"Sooooo, whadayya think?" tanyaku, setengah berlari setengah melompat ke Arki. Aku baru saja mengenalkannya ke Regi, pacar baruku.

"Fine..." kata Arki sambil mengintip halaman rumahku dari jendela.

"Elaborate, please," pintaku sambil ikut mengintip di jendela yang sama. Mobil Regi baru saja meninggalkan pekarangan rumahku.

"Siapa namanya... Regi? Kayaknya oke. Dia main gitar, main bola, suka anjing... Akhirnya dapet juga lo yang kayak gitu. Ya, walaupun nggak ngaruh juga sih."

"Kiiii..." aku tahu ke mana arah pembicaraan ini.

"Come on, La. Kapan tanggal kadaluarsa buat Regi?"

Aku dan Arki sudah berulang-ulang melewati perbincangan yang sama. Tapi saat ini, I'm not in the mood for another silly argument. Arki melanjutkan hujatannya sebelum aku sempat menjawab.

"Mungkin pas dia mau ngenalin lo ke orangtuanya? Atau pas dia mulai pengen kenal lo lebih dalem? Atau--"

"Ki!" kataku, setengah teriak. "Udah ah."

*****

Untuk kesekian kalinya, aku duduk di kursi penumpang VW kodok merah ini. Untuk kesekian kalinya, aku minta Arki menjemput, setelah aku memutuskan pacarku. Tapi kali ini ada yang berbeda. Arki lebih diam. Sejak perdebatan kami waktu itu, dia memang lebih hati-hati memilih lelucon.

Seperti biasa, scene putus berulang-ulang dengan sendirinya di otakku.

"Putus?" tanya Regi. Mukanya ramah seperti biasa, bedanya mungkin pada matanya yang sedikit memelas dan penuh tanda tanya. "Kenapa?"

"Karena--"

"Eh, nggak usah dijawab deh."

Diam.

"Aku kira, everything's going great, La."

"It is."

"Terus?" tanyanya. "Wait. Never mind. It's okay. Aku harus ngehormatin keinginan kamu kan... Apapun alesannya."

Regi tersenyum ramah, dengan mata sedih yang berusaha disembunyikannya.

Biasanya di situlah akhir cerita. Tak ada penyesalan dan pertanyaan. Kali ini pun tak ada penyesalan. Toh sudah lewat. Tapi pertanyaan? Suara di dalam kepalaku bertanya berulang-ulang, what are you doing. What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?

Tiba-tiba suara dehem Arki membuyarkan siaran ulang Sore Bersama Regi di kepalaku.

"Kalo mau ngomong sesuatu, ngomong aja," kataku agak ketus.

"Nggak."

"Right. Udah deh. Get it out of your system."

"Oke. Gue cuma pengen tau, alesan apa lagi yang lo kasih sekarang?"

"Dia nggak minta alesan."

"Kalo dia minta?"

"Nggak tau. You're too good for me? Atau apalah. Apa urusan lo juga sih, Ki?" tanyaku ketus. Aku mulai kesal dengan Arki yang sepertinya sedang membelekku dengan pisau bedah, layaknya kodok di kelas biologi. Berusaha belajar cara kerja organ-organ di dalamnya. Ck. Aku bukan kodok!

Arki tidak menjawabku. Dia malah kembali membombardirku dengan pertanyaan.

"Dan alesan lo sesungguhnya?"

Aku terdiam. Apakah aku benar-benar harus menjawab pertanyaan itu?

"La, ayolah. You're too good for me? Nobody's too good for you. Gue tau, menurut lo, you're too good for everybody."

"Ki, serius ya. Mulut lo belakangan ini mesti dibekep sambel deh."

"Sorry."

Kami terdiam sesaat sebelum Arki mulai bicara lagi.

"Kenapa sih? Gue tau lo gerah sama yang namanya komitmen. Tapi lama-lama kayaknya udah bukan masalah itu lagi."

"Maksud lo?"

"Ya, lihat Regi. Gue kira, dia udah sesuai banget sama yang lo cari-cari. Memenuhi syarat-syarat lo yang ribet. Dia juga nggak clingy. Kenapa coba lo putusin? Alesan masuk akal apa yang bisa lo kasih?"

Aku tak bisa menjawab.

"Tuh kan? Lo cuma main-main ya, La? Ya, itu hak lo, dan gue tau gue sebagai sahabat lo harusnya mendukung aja, dan segala macem--"

"Karena gue takut ditinggal!" teriakku, keceplosan. Tanpa sadar air mata mulai menggenangi pandanganku. Arki menengok ke arahku dan kembali melihat ke arah jalanan. Dia mengarahkan mobil ke kiri jalan, dan menghentikannya di toko tanaman yang sudah tutup.

"La..." rasa bersalah terlihat begitu kental di muka Arki.

"Karena emang gitulah adanya, Ki. People leave. They always do. Siapapun itu. Akan lebih baik kalo gue yang mulai duluan. Gue nggak usah repot-repot nunggu kapan mereka bakal pergi. No waiting, no dreading..."

"La..." katanya lagi, tapi sambil tertawa kecil. Gila ini orang. Setelah memancing kekesalan, lalu dia ketawa? Apa dia mau berlagak jadi Arki, Mr. I'm-so-wise-and-cool-I-don't-do-drama?

"Apa? Gue tau lo selalu mau ngebuktiin kalo omongan gue salah. Tapi untuk yang satu ini gue tau gue bener. People always leave, Ki. Kalo nggak seminggu lagi, sebulan lagi, atau sedekade lagi. Tapi itu pasti. Muluk-muluk kalo lo mikir sebaliknya."

"La, maaf ya."

Aku cuma menghela nafas.

"La, maaf. Mungkin tadi gue agak kelewatan. Tapi nggak semua orang pergi, La. Nggak semua orang kayak nyokap lo, kayak strangers yang dulu pernah lo sebut sebagai temen-temen lo," katanya sambil mengabsen pendatang yang pernah ada di hidupku. "Gue tau semua orang keliatannya dateng dan pergi gitu aja. Tapi nggak semua kayak gitu kan?"

"Menurut lo kan? Menurut gue, pikiran kayak gitu muluk-muluk. Lagian nggak semua orang pergi, karena gue udah pergi duluan."

"Not the point, and you know it."

Aku terdiam. Berharap bisa menekan tombol fast-forward dan menyudahi pembicaraan ini.

"Nih deh. Satu contoh, gue nggak bakal pergi."

"Yaa. Siapa yang tau kan sepuluh tahun lagi..."

"Kayaknya nggak ada yang bisa menggoyahkan pikiran lo ya."

Aku cuma mengangkat alis.

"Gini deh, gimana kalo kita taruhan?"

"Taruhan apa?"

"Tiap hari, untuk keduaribuseratustujuhpuluhdua kalinya, gue bakal ngebuktiin kalo lo salah."

"Gimana?" tanyaku. Masih cemberut dan merasa sangat bodoh karena sudah menangis--hal yang sudah lama asing bagiku.

"Ya gue bakal ngebuktiin kalo anggepan lo yang 'people always leave' itu nggak bener. Gue bakal nongol terus di hidup lo... dan nggak bakal pergi."

"Nggak usah janji-janji."

"Siapa yang bilang janji, he?" cibirnya sambil mengusap mukaku, kebiasaannya setiap kali meremehkanku. "Lo juga boleh buktiin kalo gue yang salah. Kalo orang pasti pergi."

"Nyeh..."

"Lo pasti tau kan, susah ngebuktiin kalo gue salah."

"Sotoy," jawabku, basi.

"Pokoknya, kalo gue yang bener. Kalo gue bisa ngebuktiin gue nggak bakal pergi dari hidup lo, bayarannya..."

Aku menatapnya, menunggu kelicikan sahabatku yang satu ini.

"Bayarannya..." lanjut Arki. "Bayarannya lo harus tetep nongol di hidup gue juga. Nggak ada kabur-kaburan kayak yang lo lakukan ke Regi, and practically everyone you know."

Arki mengangkat alisnya, menunggu jawabanku. Aku deg-degan. Tapi aku tidak takut, tidak gerah, tidak canggung.

"You got yourself a deal," jawabku akhirnya sambil menyodorkan tanganku untuk disalami. Arki tidak menyalaminya, tapi menggenggamnya, tersenyum.

Aku tidak keberatan salah kali ini.