Debris

Evening. Piercing the whole body. I feel uncomfortable tonight. Not like usual. Gripping. Tonight is my last night in this house because tomorrow our family must leave the favorite house. The house we lived in for thirty years, ever since my brother and I were born, grew and grew.

Finally, by force, this complex will be displaced by the rapid growth of the city. Time demands cannot be avoided. In fact, for the last eight years, we have been a complex population struggling for the right not to be evicted. Considering this complex has historical values ​​that should not only be rewarded with a bunch of money, but also in terms of moral and values ​​of struggle.

It's been almost three hours more I fooled Ipad, a sophisticated machine that is currently trending. The results of my work during my work. But none of the ideas that I managed to pour into the screen in front of me. Even more than three cups of coffee gulp to launch the process complicate my obsession.

In fact, there are still no encouraging signs that the idea will be transparent.

The previous cursor just moved up and down, back and forth. And so, nothing can be formed. If only she could talk, she would complain and swear. That's the risk. Fate is already designed and programmed. Want to rebel is not possible. Fears are marginalized from modern civilization. A sophisticated era, always under the control of the drafter.

I am very curious about the changes and situations that occur to me, it seems like there is something I want to spit out. My desires are hard to understand and judge by anything. But that means a lot to me. For now, I can not describe it yet. If I can, I do not know what I can do any further. Surely my little heart will feel relieved.

Perhaps, this concerns the dignity of most of the poor. People whose rights are always extorted and trampled by rich people, people who feel cultured and have good manners. The fact is distorted and depraved.

Again, drink a sip of coffee until the last drop. Until now also what has become my obsession has not materialized. Unusual-usually shackled in the mind. Unsolved secrets. Its form is not visible. It can only be felt. Eve out there feels more piercing, cold. Moreover, the walls of this room are only wrapped in zinc, and even then still, fortunately, can be fortified. This house is in the form of a clutch. One building is made into two houses. The next-door neighbor's house was first destroyed. Usually, this room is never touched by the sun. I can not help feeling how hot it is during the day and the cold at night.

The contractor was impatient, eager to knock down the building. My house is not spared from thunder. The part of the wall that was made almost collapsed. Naturally, because a time for them is very valuable. Time is money, their second retreat is considered to be disadvantageous.

The night grew older, the pallid of the moon leaned lethargically. The faint Kedondong train line breaks the silence of the atmosphere. Often howling of wild dogs increases the contrast of night rhythms. Three months of shadowy quarter stuck by owls. The last coffee was sold out. The sweet taste is not real again taken by a vague imagination.

Suddenly there was something strange. Magical power draws my subconscious mind. So strong that it is difficult to crack. Hallucinations. No! My hypnotized mind was trapped in the dense darkness of cyberspace. All my senses are stiff. Without a meaningful opposition, my body, my soul is silenced, following what the will of the supernatural power is. Slowly for my gentle essence away from his container, and that power now leads my spirit into a strange world, a realm that I have never known before.

The scenery and atmosphere of the place were so quiet. Decorated with a thin greenish turkey. Looks row of houses in the form of a clutch, it seems this is a relic of the Dutch colonial army, can be seen from the shape and style of architecture of the building. There are about 50an homes. It's just that there is no sign of life there, the strange atmosphere I found.

And right at the corner of the house, at the very bottom, there is a large pool. Probably a former army bath at that time. Beside it was an old banyan tree. The tree is as big as a giant. I estimate it's about a century.

I vaguely looked at the house at the end, there was a ray of color, flickering. Like the eyes of the devil. hinted me to get there soon. With anxious heart and mixed feelings of curiosity, I guided myself to approach the light. Apparently, the light came from an old lantern, which hung right in the center of the veranda.

"Do not be afraid of the Youth! Come closer, I want to tell you something, at least to make provisions and clues if you return to your nature," a voice surprised me.

I do not know where it came from, I tried to find, but no one I met here. Except for the reddish light, because all around me it was pitch black.

"My young man here, I am a red light!" He called.

I was shocked and jerked for a moment. I saw the light flickering again. I know, if the light is blinking again it means he is talking to me. Why can lanterns talk? It seems impossible, but that is the reality I am facing.

"The possibility is always possible, young man! My spirit is in this old lantern. Actually, I used to be like your father, a soldier. A forgotten soldier My life is full of suffering, unlike the life felt by my colleagues, who have enjoyed the luxury. destiny, because I am too idealistic, "said a soft voice.

"I used to live here too, this is a picture of the past from the compound where you live, and for years we have been fighting for the existence of these houses, for our future successors, in fact, our struggle has never happened.

I can only be silent. Shut up. Emoh answered, without me, even the voice seemed to know my way of thinking, what I want to express can be read. So it's better to keep quiet.

"I feel let down by the circumstances that are happening in your community, the houses that you have to care for and maintain because they have historical value, so it's easy to get rid of it just because of the valuable paper being laid out. His culture is this where your respect honor us? Your predecessors are fighting for all this until you can enjoy. You always just think of the treasure, but forget what the struggle means, "the greater the articulation. Deafening me.

"But this is for the sake of development and development of the city and the progress of the city is increasingly urgent," I began to speak.

"That's right, you're a young man! But remember, everything must be considered good and bad, its impact on your rights and sense of justice as well. Is there no alternative, so as not to shift the historical values, which we painstakingly staked," Voice it always makes me helpless, lice die.

Now I'm silent again. Silent, digesting his words earlier.

"You know, soon this thing will turn into a ruin - yes - debris, everywhere rubbish, always presented with human hands," again the voice complained. Pity.

I am surprised. It is true that word, soon this house will turn into destruction. Where to go. Until now we have not got a replacement.

"Debris, in the modern era, where globalization sweeps the world, is sometimes always emerging and made from human deception, always on behalf of people for personal gain Many events we can take lessons, fires that hit homes shops, factories, condominiums and more What they want Want to know they only expect claims from a piece of paper that they often call "insurance." Debris is synonymous with its excesses for human greed, "his words more cynical. Full satire.

It seems to represent my annoyed voice.

Once again I can only remain silent. This brain is getting frozen.

"One more thing, it's about evictions: Usually the occupants are always monthly, and often harmed, morally and materially, while the buyer or contractor acts arbitrarily, which I like, without compromise, the refugees of human rights. Sometimes, after ruins, the ruins will become the assets of a group of people dubbed as scavengers. They change their faces, make shopping centers, supermarkets, malls, hotels, condominiums or even use as golf courses, from time to time his words made my blood boil. I'm affected.

"Unfortunately once again, if the debris is the hearts and feelings of the people, who feel deprived of their rights, their future is broken and raped by irresponsible people, as filled with a lump of money. suffering, too, "the voice hardened. My whole body was shivering.

"Debris, from the debris will be born an elegy about human suffering, created poems poetry. Debris, the miserable remains below ..., "my eyes began to drift. Concentrated. My surroundings were pitch-black. Nothing else I can think at the moment.

"Aaaarrgghh ..." I moaned in my elbows. The reddish glow seemed to strangle my neck. I tried to fight and rebelled but in vain. My body drifted away. Far away. Back to the real world.

"Son... Nah ... be aware! Istighfarlah! "Someone shook my body. Mother apparently.

"Gosh!"

I woke up from my sleep. Looking around me. I was confused instantly because the walls of my room had been broken, the house had collapsed. Debris scattered everywhere. I saw my mother and father and my brothers and sisters standing bowed down.

A ray of disappointment is painted on their faces. They really suffer. I can only be silent. Unable to extract words.

And then there came a duking orchestra. The composition of the rhythm is arranged nicely from the sounds that are around us. There are sounds of sled, crowbars, and debris falling. But it is discordant in my heart, heart, and hearts of all the inhabitants of this complex. *

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