C67 Chapter 67
C67 Chapter 67
"Who are you?" I was startled and lifted my back from the bed where my body was lying. "Where am I?" I scanned around to acquire a hint of where it was.
"My name is Luis. But, people in this neighborhood call me Mrs. Ujang because my husband's name is Ujang. You are at the Cirasa village, around five hours from Bandung right now." Her statement bumped me.
"Bandung? Are you sure?" She nodded. I examined the room once again. The situation was much different. This place was not big yet comfortable. The wall was made of bamboo and the cement floor was so clean. One brown wooden cupboard with a mirror coated a few parts of the wall. The bed itself was just a thin mattress covered by a green sheet.
"My husband found you fainted at the edge of the road last night. May I know what your name is?" I hesitated to say my name. However, from her appearance and hospitality, there was no doubt that she was a good person. There was no way she had bad intentions toward me.
"I am Ilana," I said my name.
"What a beautiful name," she complimented. "It seems you don't live around here. Where do you live? What happened to you last night that you passed out?"
"I...I was kidnapped by some strangers." My lips trembled. I did not tell her the truth that my father had sold me to those men he owed. This woman, no matter how kind she was, was also a stranger to me. "I managed to run away from them," I admitted.
"That's too bad. Don't worry. You are safe here. Once you have recovered from your trauma, I will send you back to your family. Where are they, your parents?
"They live in Jakarta."
"Jakarta? I've never been there before. But, I have a relative there. We will surely take you...."
"I don't want to." I cut her off. She looked surprised. "Can I live here with you? I'll do anything you ask me to," I pleaded.
"Sure, you can live here. Don't you think that you have to let your parents know where you are?" I wanted my mother to know that I was fine. Yet, if my father found out that I escaped from those people, he would get me back anyway. They would be cautious, or even they could send me to be a prostitute.
"No, I can't remember my parents' address." That was not a lie as I could not explain how they get to my house.
"That's alright. You can live here as long as you want. Just make yourself at home. And let me know if you need anything. This is your room. My room is the opposite r room. You can take a rest." She had disappeared shortly. I directly picked up my bag hanging on the wall. All the contents including the pendant were still there.
This family treated me very nicely. They taught me many things. Mrs. Ujang even trained me to sew. I was glad that for the first time in my life I could live in a family with those who loved me sincerely. My biological mother loved me so much for sure, but my father did not, never, probably. A year flew too fast for me. I was yearning for my mother a lot. I was wondering how she was. Was she healthy? Did she eat enough food? And one thing still bothered me. I had the willingness inside me that I could go to university. My dreams still lingered in my mind and heart.
"Ilana...have you prayed?"
"I have," I answered in a low tone. For my foster mother, I was like her own daughter that who educated me on how to behave. She was also the one who introduced me to religious teaching such as how to pray. I never prayed in my whole life before I met her. She was even shocked that I did not know how to do the religious practice. I was grateful; God led me to this kind-hearted woman and her husband.
"I read your diary without your consent," she confessed. It alarmed me. "I'm sorry we can't afford you to study at University."
"No. It's ok. That's just my old diary."
"But, I have talked to my sister who lives in Bandung. She offers a part-time job as a waitress in her friend's restaurant. If you agree, you can work there to earn money for your study. How is that?" I excitedly hugged her and nodded many times showing that I agreed. She hugged me back tightly. I was quite happy that I always took my documents like birth certificate, diploma certificate, and transcript with me. My life was so messy. That was why I always kept anything I considered crucial in my bag.
The following morning, Mrs. Ujang accompanied me to the bus station. Getting on the bus, I waved my hands to Mrs. Ujang who stayed standing where she was while looking at me who peeped her through the bus window. The bus carried me to Bandung. I was curious about how my life would be. At least, God opened one door for me to my dreams.
After arriving, Mrs. Ujang's sister welcomed me enthusiastically. She had a warm personality. I was accepted to work in the restaurant as a waitress. I worked while studying for the university's entrance test at night.
Today was the announcement of the test. I was a bit anxious. I could not express how ecstatic I was to see my name among those admitted to Padjajaran University for Indonesian Language and Literature major.
My mobile phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Ujang calling. Before I picked up the phone, my hand touched the pendant. "How is he now?" Reno's nerdy face flashed in my head.