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My Only Idiot




"Hi busuk."

"Go to hell, idiot. You and your stupid bike. Go die, both of you."

"After you, busuk."



* * *



Ever since from which she could remember, there was never a day when he would not come to her and call her that.

When he first came to register in campus, it was her who helped him with the documents and all. It was how she met her and also the reverse. He was a cherry in the eyes of a hungry bird, but little that she did fall for this, one part because she sees love as nonsensically hard to get/maintained and one part because she thought that he was the type of bird that does not stay long on one branch - the type that hops and goes every other time.

Turned out that he was worst than she thought he could be.

Every day when he crossed the concourse area, he came and greeted her with the word. It was always the same word. It did not matter if she wore the best drops of perfume even; he still did it anyway. At first she thought it was just a joke, the type of joke a man will pull off to get her attention. After all, she is quite a lady in a way that many have tried to woo but failed miserably anyway. But after some time she started to get way too pissed about it.

There was one time when she threw her shoes at him for calling her that.

There was one time when her friends found her crying in the ladies after he teased her non-stop from the concourse to the cafe with the word.

And this has been going on for three months.

And for three months too, she's been taking him as a complete idiot.


* * *


Fine Friday morning.

The sun shone brightly and the trees looked so green. The birds sang their song and the wind blew smoothly. The kind of day that one may be looking forward verily to have.

She sat on her usual bench overlooking the lake doing the same thing she did every other day - feeding the fish and reading her novels. It somehow occurred to her that something was missing somewhat. She looked at her watch.

He should have been here by now, but he didn't show up. It has been three days now.

Well maybe he died or something, she thought. She was pretty happy about this; a fine morning without any disturbance. But since this has been going on for three days straight, it is safe to say that she missed the teasing somehow. She missed that stupid grin on his face. The gestures he made when he uttered that bedevil word. She missed how she used to get so angry at him and cried over that asshole. And she wondered where this asshole has been. She wanted to know where he was.

Not even his bike. His stupid, loud bike.

She was desperate to know where he was.

And then she knew where he was.


* * *


The cold floor was so clean, with the smell of strong antiseptic.

A number of people stood behind what seemed to be a huge, ceiling-to-floor thick glass wall. They folded their hands and hugged their body to preserve warmth from leaving their bodies to the coldness of the air-conditioned hall. Some of them had tears rolling down their cheeks. Some of these people were familiar. Their eyes were pinned to something behind the thick glass wall.

And she saw all these.

She stepped forward to the wall and she saw it too.

There he lied on his deathbed, wires strapped, connected into and around his body parts. His head was covered in bandages. He no longer had his two legs, amputated at his knees. There were tubes coming in and out his nasal passages and mouth. A machine next to him pumped slowly, circulating air in and out his lungs. Another machine did the same thing to his blood. He looked terrible. So very terrible.

She covered her mouth with her hands, terrified.

"He's in bypass," her friend, who happened to be there too, said to her as she hugged her, crying slowly. She was horrified by what she saw. She hugged her back, but her eyes were still on him.

Bruised. Cuts all over. There were blue spots on his face and arms. She felt something poked continuously onto the thick wall of her cold heart, breaking it down to pieces. Something stirred from inside the wall, too, causing the wall to collapse even more severely. She trembled. She started to cry. Past memories flashed in front of her eyes.

I hope you die with your stupid bike. "You and your stupid bike. Go die, both of you."


But I didn't mean it, I swear, she said to herself. But the bike is dead. Would he? No, please no. Don't die on me, she spoke to herself. At least not now. Not today. It has been three days you have not teased me. You can't die. Don't you die, don't even think about it you idiot!

At this point she burst into tears.

A doctor came to them.


"Maybe this is the best time to say goodbye," he said.


* * *


Hi idiot.

Can you hear me?

Can you feel me holding your hand?

I miss you, you know?


She was the last to enter. She held his hand tight, hoping that he would wake up. She knew he wouldn't wake up. Maybe for a long time. Maybe forever.

She cried a lot already by now, for a reason she couldn't really explained. She used to hate him so much for making her cried all the time. And today he did it again. She hated this so much. So much that she cried even more.

Eight whole minutes while she was in there, he didn't even make a move.

Wake up, idiot.

Talk to me.

Tell me how smelly I am!


She sank her face into his bed and she cried more and more and more. This was when his hand grasped hers slowly, gently.

"Hi," he whispered, almost unheard, with such voice as if in great pain, "hi busuk."

She pulled her head up and he took a look at him.

"Hi," she replied in her vainest of voice. "Hello," she cleared her throat, "how are you?"

"Pretty much alive, I guess." He smiled upon saying this. Some of his teeth, his once great white teeth, were missing. She smiled back. A drop of tears came onto his hand. She wiped it.

"But not for long more," he continued, "I guess,"

She sobbed to this. He just smiled, but one could tell that his eyes started to fill with tears. He grasped her hand tighter.

"I am going to miss you, busuk."

She couldn't let even a single word out. Her jaw was locked dead. Too many things to say, too little time she had. Instead she sobbed and sobbed like a little girl over her fallen ice-cream on the floor. He just looked at her, smiling. His eyes didn't blink at all, staring at her. She continued to hold to his hand and hoped that he will be alright.


Little that she knew, that by this time, he was already gone.


* * *


I am going to miss you, busuk.


She closed the holy book and placed it at the edge of the white marble cage. She fixed her scarf and her shades. She took a look at the tombstone and she read his name out slowly.

The same thing stirred in her. She shook a little. She rubbed the tombstone gently before she stood up and placed a stick of rose on the fresh red soil. Then she walked away before she turned around for one last time before joining the leaving crowd.

"I miss you too, you idiot," she said and continued, "I thought you ought to know that," she stopped to give way for her tears to roll down her cheeks.



"I thought you ought to know that," she later continued, "that you will always be my only idiot."


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  • (Author)
    1) haha. most probably, i think
  • 2) ha ha. i like this piece. u got style

  • (Author)
    3) well thank you. i appreciate your comment very much =D
  • 4) hmm...reminds me of my friend's cousin who died from bike accident...
  • 5) it's a nice piece..
    so sad..
    but i like it..
    keep it up!

  • (Author)
    6) thank you =)
  • 7) This is really awesome. Simple. It'll be cooler if you add some twist into language. All in all, had so much fun reading it!

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