MY ONE HOPE FOR YOU
008 Chapter

“Assalamu’alaikum, Putri.” shouted Dena from the front of the house.

“Wa’alaikumsalam. Roni please open the door yes, Ma'am want to change clothes first.”

“Iya mbak.”

Roni immediately opened the front door and invited Dena to enter the living room.

“Yes Allah, Roni is already this big huh. Which jaka?” ask Dena.

“Shortly yes, mbak. Jaka was still out. Mbak Putri is also still changing clothes.” replied Roni casually.

“Dad, Mother where?”

Hearing that question, I knew my sister would not be able to answer it. I immediately rushed out of the room and tried to melt the atmosphere between Dena and Roni.

“Dena, didn't get lost, did you?” I asked while hugging him.

“Alhamdulillah I still really want the same way. Although there have been several paths that have changed.” his answer relieved me.

“Roni, can you help make black tea for mebak Dena?” I asked Roni.

“Could be mbak.”

“Don't forget, the sugar is a little yes.” I said.

I told my sister to make tea, because if I went to the kitchen, Dena could ask my sister the same thing again.

We talked a lot and were nostalgic when we were in High School. If I remember again, it turns out that Dena was the first one to invite me to meet.

At that time, I was eating my breakfast in class because I was ready to bring supplies from home. Others prefer to buy food in the cafeteria.

Dena came to me with her stock. It just so happened that we both used the same rice wrapper, which was in the form of banana leaves and oil paper.

The first similarity that made the two of us friends and became close friends until now.

Dena comes from a capable family, she also has excellent academic scores. Evidently, he entered the SMA just by capitalizing on the report card without taking further tests.

His family is also a good family and upholds religious values. His father is a famous ustadz who has lectured in various cities.

While his mother, his main job as a teacher in one of the private High School and also became the leader of religious organizations in his village.

On the sidelines of my warm conversation with Dena, Jaka and Roni came together.

Roni brought black tea and Jaka brought the bread I had told him to buy.

“Jaka, Yes Allah. His face is still like the old days yes.” said Dena.

Jaka just smiled and the two of them returned to their room.

I thought the nostalgic story I started would distract him, but it didn't.

I finally explained what really happened to my mom and dad.

Three years ago, it was 2000. It's been the year I hate the most now and forever.

My life changed drastically that year. March was the darkest month for me and my two sisters.

The highway between Malang City and Malang Regency was a silent witness to the disaster that befell my parents.

A silver van with five passengers all died at one time.

The incident began when Mr. Broto, the driver forced to continue the journey with a gasoline indicator that had shown red.

Mr. Broto said that the car's gasoline was still very enough to travel to Masjid Raya Malang, and would fill up when he returned home.

The other four passengers had already given up that it was better to be late for queuing at the SPBU than to have to run out of gas in the middle of the road.

However, Mr. Broto who is known to have a strong character remains adamant to continue his journey.

He also said that this silver van had accompanied him since young, so he knew when this car had to fill gasoline or not.

Dad, who also often stopped by his friend's workshop after work, knew a little about the intricacies of the automotive world.

I also gave the best advice to Mr. Broto but was ignored.

Wide highways with smooth asphalt conditions do not guarantee the safety of its users.

Mr. Broto who was a little annoyed at the passengers who were in it stepped on the accelerator and speeding on the highway.

What Mr. Broto forget is, the higher the engine rotation above it will be more wasteful the gasoline used.

In the middle of the road, the car suddenly ran out of gas and experienced a drastic decrease in speed.

Right behind the car that was driven by Father and Mother, there was already a bus that was also driving at high speed.

There is nothing more that Mr. Broto can do, he braked or insisted there would still be accidents that could not be avoided.

Instantly, the bus that realized there was a silver van suddenly walked slowly slamming the steering wheel to avoid a serious collision.

But the fate has already been outlined. The bus crashed into the rear side of the left side which made the van slammed into the middle and hit the road divider.

The bus suffered ringsek only in the driver's part, the bus driver suffered a heavy injury in the part of his leg that was squeezed by the dashboard.

While the car carrying Father, Mother, Mr. Broto and his wife and one child ringsek hit the road barrier.

I got the news when before Maghrib there were two male police officers and one female police officer who asked about my relationship with the victim who was none other than Father and Mother.

Unable to hold back the news that shocked me, I fainted right in front of them the policemen.

The thing I never expected at all had to happen that month, March of 2000.