"BILI...! Hurry up and get inside, it's going to rain!"
My mom called out loudly.
I stood still, staring at my neighbor's cat, which was wrapped in a reddish-black mist.
"Bili... what are you doing? Hurry up and come inside!"
Mom called again.
Raindrops started to fall.
My red eyes returned to normal. I stood up and jogged back toward the house, leaving the neighbor's cat behind, which hadn't moved a muscle the whole time.
Mom was waiting for me at the door, arms folded, her face angry. I lowered my head, feeling guilty.
"..."
Seeing that, Mom sighed in resignation. She crouched down and gently stroked my head.
"Next time, come right away when I call you, okay?"
I nodded in agreement.
Seeing that, she gave me a small smile.
"Now get inside, Bili. I've made dinner. But before that, take a bath first. You just got caught in the rain. I don't want you to get sick."
"...Okay, Mom."
I entered the house, grabbed a towel, and went straight to the bathroom.
Since I was little, my parents had taught me to be independent. So even though I was still a child, I always bathed on my own without help.
After taking a bath and changing into fresh clothes, I headed to the dining table. Dad and Mom were already there, waiting for me.
"...? Bili, come on! Daddy's starving to death here!"
Dad called out the moment he saw me.
He rubbed his growling stomach dramatically, saying he was starving to death.
"...Alright..."
I quickened my pace and climbed up onto the chair, which felt so tall to me.
After some effort and determination, I finally made it up.
On the table, there were all kinds of delicious-looking dishes.
The main course tonight was Mom's special grilled chicken — guaranteed Number One.
"Now that Bili's here, it's time to eat—"
Just as Dad and I were about to grab a chicken leg, Mom stopped us.
Dad's hand was already inches away from the meat.
We both turned to look at her.
"...?"
"...?"
"Pray first..."
Hearing that, Dad just chuckled awkwardly.
So, we said our prayers first, then we started eating.
Dad had been so hungry, he almost forgot to pray.
'Sanjaya' — that's my father's name.
Despite his carelessness at home, he was a successful businessman, strict with his employees but kind-hearted.
On top of that, Dad was descended from Javanese nobility, with royal blood. That's why Javanese customs were deeply rooted in our family.
My mother's name was 'Dwi'.
She was also of noble blood, a Javanese aristocrat.
Even though we had many household helpers, Mom preferred to cook herself — cooking was her hobby, and every dish she made was guaranteed delicious.
After dinner, I watched my favorite TV show: Doraiman, the pink civet who could pull magical items out of his mouth.
Meanwhile, my parents were still at the dining table, talking about plans for my sixth birthday.
Not long after, Dad called out to me.
I ignored him, too absorbed in my cartoon.
He called again — this time threatening to turn off the TV.
Pouting, and with heavy steps, I walked over to the dining table again and climbed onto the tall chair. After some effort, I made it up once more.
The table was now clean — no plates or utensils in sight.
I crossed my arms and puffed my cheeks.
Dad laughed at my sulky face.
After a chuckle, he asked:
"Bili, where do you want to go for your birthday?"
Hearing that, my frustration faded, replaced by excitement.
My puffed cheeks returned to normal, and I smiled brightly.
With enthusiasm, I shouted my answer:
"THE BEACH!"
Dad laughed again, moving closer and lifting me up into the air.
"Alright then, if that's what my little boy wants."
He spun me around in the air like I was flying.
I didn't like being treated like a little kid, so I squirmed, trying to break free.
Dad finally stopped and pulled me into a warm hug.
"...?"
I felt the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
Then Mom came over and hugged me too.
Her body felt just as warm and comforting.
I smiled.
I was happy to have a warm family like this.
And I believed — this warmth would last forever.
---
After waiting for weeks, the day I had been looking forward to finally arrived.
I was already in the car, sitting in the back with Mom.
Dad was in the front, focused on driving.
I sang cheerfully.
Mom smiled watching me, and so did Dad, who peeked at me through the rearview mirror.
I thought everything would be fine — smooth and without problems.
But fate had other plans.
It happened so fast. I didn't expect it at all.
On the way home, the sky grew dark.
The call to Maghrib prayer echoed.
Our headlights were on.
Then suddenly — out of nowhere — a terrifying creature appeared in front of our car.
Dad reacted quickly, swerving the car hard.
We spun out in the middle of the road.
Dad slammed the brakes, and the car finally stopped.
We managed to breathe a sigh of relief.
But not for long.
A loud truck horn blared — getting closer and closer.
Dad tried to start the engine.
Nothing. The car wouldn't start. Something was broken.
Mom tried opening the car door — but it was stuck.
She struggled, kicked the door repeatedly.
The truck got closer… and closer.
Finally, the door burst open.
Mom threw me out of the car just in time.
The truck slammed into our vehicle — with both my parents still inside.
I saw it with my own eyes — my parents' death.
My body froze. My voice choked in my throat.
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I screamed with everything I had —
The moments that were supposed to bring me joy…
Turned into the most heartbreaking memory of my life.
"UWAAAAAAAAAA...!?"
To Be Continued...