Horror Story
Steve's Diary - Sin Grief And Nestapa

The crowds of the market overlap signifies we are close to the poor city. The market crowd overlaps with the perkelon or its intersection accompanied by poultice monuments. Two hours later we arrived at the train station.

"Mas, even if there's anything, don't let you divulge the above incident, still be a truly human being",

suko said in our farewell.

We took the train that night..

L'm...I doni still don't trust my best friend..

L'm...I can't believe I have to go home without you, man..

"Come on, we're home", 

petricia was still wiping away her tears.

We drove petricia, our girl friend, on a blue AG to the bus terminal and back to her hometown..

"Mas, I'll go back first..", 

pamit petricia's.

"Yes.you're careful..", 

my reply.

Not much petricia said. All I saw was the great shock of his heart and the sweat that was still dripping, and trying to keep him from flowing. 

We entered the station. Enter among the many human chatter and its activities. The sound of hawkers and street buskers seemed to say goodbye.

"Hey man, let's walk inside. This is the train we came..", 

bring one of my friends.

"Yes, let's go man", 

answer's short. Short of fate and the short path that steve took in mahameru.

Why steve?

Why are you doing this to me, my friend..

As much as I can, I always try to cheer you up, my friend..

Plug back dripping..

A dripping water of God drenched the streets..

Rain water as indicated..

That I..

I'm. I'm so lost..

I cry with the rain..

"Let's go home",  

said my friend while embracing me, taking me to the platform.

I passed a group of people who went back and forth with his busyness. The parking lot sang loudly with his voice. And the hawker with his sweet promoter's mouth..

Tutta!!! Tut!! Tuuut!!!!!!

The loud sound of the locomotive horn swept through our ears. The sound may be able to dampen our ears, but not with our hearts.

Our hearts are still screaming and roaring.Yes God..

Forgive lies..

Forgive my dishonesty..

I'm sorry God..

We got on that old locomotive. Yes, as you said yesterday, my friend, an iron box with economic value. Cheap like a dilapidated copaja that you ride every day.

We slept, we were so exhausted. Not only is the body weary in ourselves, but the soul, emotions and sorrow of tears make complete exhaustion in us.

All of a sudden..

"Hey man, why are you? So men are weak.. Ahahaha.!!", huh..!!", 

say someone. It was a familiar voice, it was from behind me, the voice of someone who used to joke with me.

"Don't cry over you.. The cave does not like to be roasted. During my friend's stay..", 

her word.

Yeah, him..

My best friend Steven in the car..

But..

But why do you appear to be my friend..

The form that scares me..

You're still wearing a rope around your neck.Steven's my best friend..

I'm sorry I couldn't take care of you..

"Dude. wooiiii. don, doni!!", 

a lot of voices.

Very many people filled my ears. The smell of the balm poked my nose until it choked my throat.

Haahhh??? I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by a lot of eyes. The eyes that looked at me were worried.

I rubbed my eyeballs and my tangled face..

"Dude, drink first", 

my friend gave me water to drink with great anxiety.

"You all right, man?', 

ask the others.

Spontaneous water I gulp and I spend. I'm sure I'm not thirsty, but somehow I'm like a thirsty, hot person.

All of a sudden..

"Mas already yes, advertise.that's the path he chose, don't blame yourself. He's got what he wants, ikhlaskan..", 

I had a lot of questions about the old man. But again I didn't get an answer. I felt the journey for so long in this iron box. I can't sleep anymore. Can only see the view from behind the window of this scrap metal box.

Until I suppose..

Finally we arrived at the art market, Jakarta. My wass are back. What would I tell my best friend's family"

My mouth is mute..

My flame is only as big as dust..

I don't know if I'm capable..

Can I tell you this sad news?

Fearful..

Fearful.. 

And scared..

I'm numb..

Even imagining their expressions I couldn't..

Oh my god what should I do..

I took a ramshackle copaja bus to my best friend's family home. Through the metropolitan streets. Jakarta is the same, my friend. A hard city with uneven justice.

You said right, man.. The capital, a paradise for those with wealth and power, but a hell for those who are homeless. Many came looking for luck in the capital, but it was a pity to only be raped by injustice..

Capital city..

It's same..

Their place..

A place of babble and jokes that claim to be authoritative..

Yes.The city is loud and arrogant like the higher-ups in the palace there..

You are right, man..

I was at my best friend's house. A small house with a terrace that is not too large. House on the outskirts of the capital, a simple house in the corner of Jakarta.

"Excuse me..", 

greetings to the people in the house.

"Yes. a minute..", 

reply to a woman who is not too old. Yeah, that's my best friend Steven's mom.

Paras is still well-preserved but begins to have many wrinkles on his face. I've heard he banged his bones into a rich man's domestic worker,

he is rich but not as rich as he used to be. Very sad to see it, seeing the state of steve's family due to papa steve's actions that make them like this. Falling poor and economically limited.

"Ehh. nak doni, steven mana",

ask steve's mom. With a full name, a typical call of a mother to her child.

"Emm. aunt doni apologized in advance...",

I answered and was suddenly cut off by steve's mama

"Huh.. why? What's with steven don?", though?",

steve's mom was confused.

"Auntie, I'd like to talk to you about steve first", 

I said to my best friend's mother, she only replied with a nod of her head.

"I want to tell you about Steve. Aunt steve.. Steve's missing in semeru.", he..",

obviously I was lethargic while only being able to look down and full of guilt. 

"You don't joke don..", 

mama said steve was shocked and limp for a moment.

"I.ii.iya aunty, we and volunteers have combed and searched for the whereabouts of steve, but have not met aunty..", 

I was heavy and felt more guilty.

Which old man is not sad..

Which mother is not in shock..

Everyone would be sad and devastated if faced with news like this. I'm sorry my friend lied to the mother who gave birth to you, about your circumstances, about what really happened in semeru

"Stevens!! Steveenn!!!", 

yell mama steve.

Steve's mom went into the house. Suddenly the crying broke. Break into a house. Again, I could not see the sadness..

I'm sorry your best friend..

Without saying goodbye I left your home my friend..

Shaky steps full of fret..

The steps of a man filled with sin, sorrow and loss..

It's been a long time my friend.. I've kept this secret in an old safe without a single human being knowing it. 

Sorry my friend, I had to unpack every ink stroke of your diary..

Steven.my friend..

Forgive your friend and friend..

I still miss you, friend..

Until when will you remain immortal in my memories..

You will still be my best friend..

From friends who always miss you..

Donnish

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