After years of being immersed in a dark world, Ben is no longer the boy who once dreamed of success and meeting great people. His internet and technical skills with Eddi have transformed him into someone he no longer recognizes. Society now labels him as trash, a lost young man, living in the darkness of the streets. His days are filled with crime—robbery, theft, fights, and drinking. His body is increasingly neglected, his hair tangled, his clothes tattered, and his once-sharp mind is now consumed by crime, online gambling, alcohol, and cigarettes.
One afternoon, Ben ran to the grocery store to buy a pack of cigarettes. He kept his head down, avoiding the gazes of people who were beginning to recognize him. At the end of the alley, several teenagers his age were gathered, laughing and pointing in a certain direction.
"Hey, look at him!" someone shouted in an angry voice.
"That's Ben, the one whose life is a mess," another said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "What will he become? How long will he stay like that?"
Ben held his breath for a moment, lowering his head, but his heart was still pounding. He inhaled a puff of smoke from the new pack of cigarettes he had bought, trying to calm himself. As he walked, he forced himself to think, "You idiot, my life is my own business... they don't understand anything."
But they continued to follow his every step. Every mix and whisper seemed to cling to him, adding layers of hatred and resentment that he had long suppressed. In the silence, Ben felt the world against him, but it also strengthened his journey into darkness—with no way back.
The once-virtuous Ben had become a grim shadow of his former self. There was no hope—only deeper devastation. Yet even in the darkest nights, beautiful dreams from his childhood would occasionally surface, like flashes of light piercing the black fog. He dreamed of being in his grandmother's yard, watching the sun set over the coconut grove, hearing his own laughter as he played with Hana and Saddam. It all felt real—warm, safe, and far from the life he was living now.
But the dreams always turned into something terrifying. In them, he heard an old man's voice, a voice that was loud, soothing, and yet frightening. The voice often appeared when Ben had overdosed on alcohol or fallen asleep after excessive online gambling. The old man who had woken him, staring at him with eyes that seemed to pierce his soul, said: "Ben... you can't keep doing this..."
The dream never gave him peace. Every time Ben woke, his heart pounded, cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt haunted, as if the dream never truly left him, following him throughout the day. In narrow alleys or at the internet cafe, when he laughed or smoked, the image of the old man always appeared in the corner of his mind—staring at him, judging his every choice, reminding him of the version of himself he had lost.
It was as if every laugh from a gambling victory or every stolen item he pocketed was never enough to erase the guilt the dream instilled. Ben felt trapped, walking between two worlds: one increasingly dark and chaotic reality, and one dream world that constantly demanded accountability—a reminder that the shadows of his past could never truly disappear.
Until one day, a major event occurred. Pad, one of Ben's boldest and most reckless gang members, attempted to steal from a wealthy man's house at the edge of the village. Everything initially went according to plan—lights off, movement was swift, and their footsteps were barely audible. However, luck wasn't on their side. The homeowner returned home earlier than expected, turned on the headlights, and set off a simple alarm.
Pad panicked. The stolen goods he had brought with him—a wallet filled with cash, an expensive watch, and some small pieces of jewelry—were beyond his quickest access. In the desperate situation, he decided to share them with the gang members, including Ben, hoping they could protect the money and goods for a while. But his reckless move only led to a bigger problem.
At their gang hangout—an old, half-collapsed building by the river, where they used to have their headquarters—sirens suddenly sounded increasingly close. Police rotary lights bounced off the building's walls.
"Police!" one of the gang members shouted, panicked. "We're under attack!"
Chaos ensued. Everyone ran, knocking over rickety wooden tables and chairs. Ben glanced back and saw Eddi had disappeared into the bushes at the side of the building, as he always did. But Ben himself had no immediate hiding place.
He grabbed his bag containing some of Pad's stolen goods and started running. The police shouted, called his name, and flashed their lights.
Flashlights shone on him.
"Stop! Hands up!" a police officer's loud voice echoed through the night air.
Ben didn't stop. His breath was labored, sweat pouring down his face. He jumped over a puddle and crashed into a pile of old wood, falling briefly but quickly getting back up. The narrow village street had now become a chase scene.
Ahead, the night market was still open. Vendors and shoppers screamed in surprise as Ben ran through tents and piles of vegetables. Some fruit fell, rolling onto the road, making a loud thud.
The police continued to approach. Flashlights shone in his face, and sirens grew louder. Ben swerved into a narrow alley, dodging vehicles and onlookers. He crashed into a small stall, breaking a bottle and sending a vendor jumping to the side, screaming.
"Run! Don't get caught!" Ben shouted, ducking low, his breath ragged. He overtook a child carrying a plastic bag, nearly hitting a woman pushing a vegetable cart.
The police split up—some chasing along the main road, others down the narrow alley. Ben ran aimlessly, entering a densely populated neighborhood where almost all the houses were made of old wood. The sound of his footsteps and the police mixed with the panicked shouts of residents.
At a corner, Ben stumbled, nearly falling. He saw the door of the house wide open and without thinking, he entered, crashing into a pile of old wooden chairs inside. The smell of kerosene and cigarette smoke filled the narrow room. He held his breath, hearing the police's footsteps drawing closer outside.
But luck was on his side for a moment. The police overtook the house, focusing elsewhere. Ben crawled out the back window, fell to the ground, and ran back to the market, now almost empty as night fell.
He kept running, passing vendors closing their stalls, bumping into stacks of boxes, and bouncing between narrow alleys. The tension reached a fever pitch—his heart pounding, his legs heavy, his breath almost breaking. But within the panic, there was a strange sensation: Ben felt like his life was literally on the line, and here he felt free, even if that freedom was bitter and dangerous.
On the other side of the village, one by one the gang members were arrested. Pad screamed as he was handcuffed. Some of their friends screamed in terror, others cried as the police led them away. Eddi was nowhere to be found—he had simply vanished that night. And Ben… Ben remained wandering the streets, alone, gasping for breath and covered in small wounds, but with eyes that now stared coldly at the world, with no other goal than to survive and keep moving, because he knew—if he stopped, the police would arrest him too.
The Ben who once existed was now just a shadow in a chaotic night—trapped in his own dark world, sinking deeper and deeper, and aware that the turning point had already occurred.
On the other hand, before the raid, Ben's father was in his own house when there was a loud knock on the door. He opened it, and saw three figures standing in the yard: two plainclothes police officers, and a familiar-looking middle-aged man.
"I come on behalf of the police," said one of the officers, shaking Ben's father's hand. "My name is Commissioner Arif Santoso. We've been tracking your son's movements… Ben."
Ben's father nodded slowly, his eyes welling with tears. "I've… been looking for him for a long time. My son… he's missing, Mr. Arif. Please… please help me."
Commissioner Arif patted his shoulder. "Calm down, sir. We haven't come to arrest him—at least, not now. But the situation is getting dangerous. The stolen items from Mr. Hadi's house—your friend—have turned up as evidence. Your son is playing with fire."
There, Mr. Hadi, Ben's father's old friend, stepped forward. "I don't want to go to jail," he said softly but firmly. "But Ben… this boy has taken something from my house. I've known him since he was little. I know there's still good in him."
Ben's father took a deep breath. "Mr. Hadi, I beg you. Don't report him. I will find him… I will bring him back to the right path. I guarantee it."
Mr. Hadi looked at him seriously. "Okay, but there's a condition. Your son must return of his own accord. If you fail to persuade him, we must all hand him over to the law."
Commissioner Arif added, "We believe Mr. Hadi and you can do it. This is a testament to our friendship and trust—between family, old friends, and law enforcement. But this is the last chance we're giving him. Ben can't keep sinking."
Ben's father lowered his head, staring at the ground. "I… I won't let you down. I will find him, no matter what."
Mr. Hadi patted Ben's father on the shoulder, smiling slightly, though his eyes remained serious. "Remember, you only have one chance. This child… he can still be saved. But time is ticking."
Police Commissioner Arif nodded. "We will remain here as supervisors. But you must convince him. We know your love… can be stronger than anything."
Ben's father looked at him.
As he stared into the twilight sky, he felt the weight of his responsibility. In his heart, he knew: for the first time, he truly had to face Ben alone. There was no anger, no threats—just the love of a father who refuses to lose his son, even when everyone else has given up.
Outside, night was falling. And on the same village streets, Ben still wandered, unaware that his father was now preparing one last plan—one last hope—to bring him back from the dark abyss he had chosen for himself.
After exploring every hangout, internet cafe, market, and gambling den that had been part of his dark world for years, Ben's father finally found him. By the small river that divided the village, Ben sat alone. His body was dirty, his clothes tattered, his tangled hair sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat and dust. His eyes were blank, staring at the slow-flowing water, as if the outside world no longer existed for him.
His father stood behind a bush, holding his breath. He could see the traces of destruction his son had left behind—Ben's hands were covered in small cuts, scratch marks from fights, and black stains of oil or dirt stuck to his clothes. He wanted to scream, to scold, to demand answers… but his heart broke just by seeing the child he once held now looking like a shadow of a stranger.
With slow steps, he approached. "Son…" his voice broke, trembling in the quiet night air. "Come home… no matter how far you go, this house will always be there for you. We're still waiting for you."
Ben turned his head slowly, expressionless. There was a weariness deeper than anything he had ever felt. He swallowed, his body trembling, not from fear, but because something in his father's words had pierced the hard layers he had built up over the years.
His father sat next to Ben, close enough to reach out a hand but not force it. "Son… I know you're tired. I know this world feels harsh. But your home… your home remains the same. Grandma, Mom, me… all of us… are still waiting for you. No one wants to punish you. We just want you to come back."
Ben lowered his head, staring at the river water reflecting the moonlight. His lips moved, but only a faint sound came out. "I… I don't know how else…"
His father patted his shoulder gently, gently. "It's okay, son. You don't need to know everything now. The important thing is that you want to come home… that's enough."
Ben felt tears begin to fall down his cheeks. He hadn't cried like this in front of anyone since the tragedy began—since the loss of his childhood, since the loss of his best friend, since he became lost in the darkness. All the emotions he'd held in his heart, all the regrets he'd denied, all the guilt he'd ignored, now burst like a broken dam.
His father held him gently, as if he wanted to hold all the pain of the world just for Ben. Ben cried silently, his body trembling in his father's arms. The outside world—the police, the gambling, the gangs, all the criminality that had shaped him—seemed to disappear for a moment. All that remained was a father and son missing each other, on a lonely riverbank, on a cold, but hopeful night.
This time, Ben didn't resist. He let himself be led, let his tears fall, let his heart slowly open again. With heavy steps, he rose and followed his father home, leaving behind the dark shadow that had haunted him. With each step, there was a mix of relief and regret, and in his heart, a small light slowly rekindled—a light long lost, but never truly extinguished.
When he arrived home, his mother immediately hugged Ben tightly. Her body was trembling, her breath ragged from sobbing. Her face was wet with tears, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, as if she didn't want to let go. "Son... my son... you're home..." his mother's voice broke, vibrating in the air, and Ben felt the warmth he had longed for, the warmth he had lost years ago.
His father stood beside him, staring at them with red eyes and a tight jaw, holding back his emotions. He said nothing, but his eyes spoke: full of relief, but also pain for all the lost time. Ben lowered his head, staring at the floor, holding back tears—but the warmth of his mother's embrace penetrated the hard walls he had built.
For the next week, Ben barely spoke. He just sat in a corner of the house, staring at the ceiling, contemplating his ruined life. He remembered his friends who had been arrested, all the sins he had committed, and the visions of his dreams that continued to haunt him. Every time he saw his mother or father, guilt churned inside him, but he remained silent, swallowing all his regrets alone.
Until one afternoon, his father sat across from him, looking Ben in the eye seriously. "Son, we've given you a second chance. Now..."
"The choice is yours. You can continue to sink… or start a new life from scratch," his father said quietly but firmly.
His mother added softly, "We've thought this through. My older brother lives in the village of Pagar. There, you'll live with your respected aunt and your uncle, the headmaster of the local high school. They're religious, have a stable life, extensive fields and gardens… a place that can help you get back on the right path."
Ben frowned. "Pagar… is so far away, isn't it? I don't know what I'd like to live in a new place, with people I don't know. I'm comfortable here… although… yes, on the streets too."
His father smiled faintly, trying to lighten the mood. "Son, comfortable on the streets? Ben, comfort is temporary. There, you can study, work, and live a better life. I can't follow you everywhere you go, but I can help you start over."
His mother patted his hand gently, "Son, we promise… we won't force you. But try, just once. See what you can learn there. We believe you can change."
Ben lowered his head, took a deep breath, and then looked at them both. He knew this wasn't a threat, not an ultimatum—it was an offer. A final offer from parents who wouldn't give up on him. Deep down, he felt something comforting beneath that warmth.
"Okay… I'll go," Ben finally said, his voice heavy but firm. "I… I'll try. "But don't get your hopes up, okay?" he added, looking at his father and mother with half-closed eyes, trying to hide his mixed feelings.
His mother smiled and hugged him again, this time with a warmer, more hopeful tenderness. His father patted Ben's shoulder gently, as if to give him courage. And inside Ben, despite his fear and anxiety, there was a lightness he hadn't felt in years—a feeling that maybe, just maybe, his life could begin again.
The next morning, the sun was just breaking through the thin village fog as Ben, with his tattered bag on his back, stood in front of the bus that would take him to Pagar—a long, 18-hour journey. His father and mother accompanied him, their eyes red and watery, fighting back tears as they tried to smile.
"Son, listen to your aunt and uncle over there," his mother's voice broke, filled with emotion. "Be the son we love once again."
His father patted him on the shoulder, refraining from overly emotional words. "We all believe in you. Don't disappoint our hopes."
Beside Ben, his cousin, Hana, stood with her arms crossed, her face a little grim but her eyes gleaming—expressing mixed emotions. Hana was the cousin who had nearly lost herself during the horrific incident, and Ben was the one who had helped her, even though it had been harsh and harsh.
Ben turned his head and looked at Hana, his breathing heavy. "Hana… listen. I'll be back. This time… with a new face, a new life. I… I promise it'll be different."
Hana gave him a cynical look, but a hint of a smile appeared at the corner of her lips. "Huh… a new face? You think it's that easy, Ben? You messed up my life back then, did you think just by saying that I'd believe you?"
Ben lowered his head, suppressing a long-held guilt. "I… I'm sorry, Hana. I was rude back then… I don't know how. You… you're my cousin, the one I desperately protected as a child. I… I'm so sorry."
Hana furrowed her brows and patted Ben's shoulder, half sarcastically, half gently. "Hmph… well, let's just live, Ben. You go to that Fence. Don't cause any trouble. Come home safely, then we'll see what kind of new face you have."
Ben smiled faintly, his eyes slightly teary. "I'll be home… and you wait for me. I'll prove it."
His mother took a deep breath and patted Ben's head gently. "Son… don't talk too much. Be safe on your journey. Remember, our love is always with you."
His father added, "And remember… nothing can replace home. You can always come back."
Ben looked at his father, mother, and Hana, trying to hold all these memories close to his heart. He stepped onto the bus steps, turning one last time. Hana stared at him, her sardonic smile still lingering, but there was a faint warmth in her eyes.
As the bus doors closed and the engine roared to life, the bus began to move out of the village, leaving his father, mother, and Hana standing in the yard, waving goodbye with tears streaming down their faces. Ben stared out the window, his heart a mixture of fear, guilt, and hope—hope that in Pagar, his life could truly begin again.
Ben remained silent, hugging his father and mother one last time before finally boarding the bus. His body felt heavy, as if all the regret and fatigue that had accumulated over the years were pressing down on his back. He looked down for a moment, feeling the warmth of his mother's hand still on his shoulder, and his father's strong grip that seemed to hold all the darkness of the world away from him.
As the bus slowly began to move,
Ben stared out the window. The village he had left behind seemed small, but every corner was filled with memories, both bitter and sweet. He saw his former high school—the place where he had once sat in class with big dreams, now just a shadow of the past. Then the workshop where he had worked, where he had once felt sweat and simple satisfaction, now brought only shame and regret.
The bus passed the narrow alley where he had often hung out with Saddam, laughing carefree. All that laughter now felt hollow, for Saddam had long since departed, leaving him alone on the harsh streets of life. He passed his best friend Akhir's house, a place that had once been full of joy, now leaving only bitter memories of loss and alienation. Finally, he saw the internet cafe—the place that had destroyed his life, plunging him into a dark world of gambling, online games, and the wrong gangs.
His eyes welled with tears. He felt a mixture of guilt, regret, and sorrow. "How did I end up in this world?" he thought, his voice barely audible above the roar of the bus engine. He looked down, staring at his own dirty, tired hands, and imagined all the things he could do differently if he could turn back time.
However, behind his departure, which seemed like a second chance, lay a profound secret he didn't yet know. As his gang members were being rounded up one by one, the police and his father's friend, Mr. Hadi, had arrived at his house with a final plan: to take Ben straight to jail. The stolen goods, the evidence of the crime, and the citizen's report were all complete. If forced, Ben would be locked up immediately—his life trapped behind bars, with no way out.
But his father, known as a kind and wise man by the police and his friends, negotiated something different. In a calm but firm voice, he said to Police Commissioner Arif and Mr. Hadi: "If Ben is taken to jail, he will lose all chance of returning to the right path. Let me send him far away, somewhere safe, so he can start a new life."
The police and Mr. Hadi looked at him seriously, then nodded. They knew Ben's father was right—isolation and surveillance on the spot was far better than losing Ben forever. So a deal was made: Ben would be sent to the village of Pagar, far from the criminal underworld that had destroyed his life. There, he would be under the care of his respected aunt and uncle, the local high school principal, with a stable, religious life as his new guide.
Ben, of course, had no idea of this. To him, this departure was simply a parental decision, a second chance that he found bittersweet and difficult. He had no idea that every step he would take on the 18-hour journey was designed to save him from the path that nearly swallowed him forever. He simply stared out the window, watching the village shrink in the distance, and felt a mixture of fear, regret, and—out of nowhere—a glimmer of hope slowly rising in his chest.
And in his father's heart, one prayer was uttered: that Ben would return as the son they loved, before the dark world he had lived in completely swallowed what was left of his soul.
After a grueling 18-hour journey, Ben arrived in a land completely foreign to him. The narrow streets, the sound of vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of the terminal made it feel like another world. He looked around, trying to remember the address his father had given him, while adjusting to the unfamiliar crowd.
As he stepped toward the terminal exit, two unruly boys blocked his path. Their hair was disheveled, their faces full of confidence, and their gazes seemed to be marking out who was "weak" around them.
"Hey, you're new here, huh?" one of them said, stepping forward. "Seriously... where are you going alone?"
Ben looked at them calmly. His experiences on the streets, fights in the village, and the criminal underworld had made him undaunted. He leaned forward slightly, glaring. "I just want to find the address. Don't bother me."
The first boy smiled sarcastically. "Address, huh? Well... then, maybe I can help... but first, hand over your bag. It'll be safe for all of us."
Ben raised his eyebrows, holding his breath for a moment. "You think this is the easiest way? Come on, if you want. I'm not afraid of you guys."
The second boy laughed, provokingly. "Let's see how good you are, then you can ask for the address!"
Without hesitation, Ben stepped forward, his body agile and ready to attack. The two boys tried to strike, but Ben had already blocked their blows with quick reflexes. A fist connected with one of the boys' stomach, sending him staggering backward. Ben kicked the other boy's leg, knocking him off balance.
"Let go of me! Let go!" one of them shouted, trying to get up, but Ben was already facing forward, ready to block any attack. Punches and kicks
The speed made the two children finally give up, fall, and run helter-skelter from the terminal.
Ben took a deep breath, his breathing still heavy with adrenaline, but his eyes remained alert. He patted his bag, then walked over to the pedicab driver who was waiting for passengers.
"Sir, I'm going to Pagar village… the address is here," Ben asked, pointing to a piece of paper his father had given him.
The pedicab driver nodded. "Ah… it's far, son. It'll be a two-hour journey. But don't worry, I can take you there. Just sit down."
Ben nodded and climbed into the pedicab. The long journey made him reflect, imagining a new home, waiting parents, and the possibility of a new life.
Two hours later, they arrived at his aunt's house. Ben climbed out of the pedicab with weary steps, but his eyes widened at the sight of the neat yard, the manicured garden, and the warm family waiting for him.
His aunt immediately hugged him tightly. "Son… you're finally here!" she said, fighting back tears. Uncle Ben, the principal of the local high school, reached out and smiled warmly. His cousins gathered around, staring at him with curious but kind eyes.
Ben looked at them all, feeling a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. There was no anger, no mockery, just acceptance. His heart eased slightly, and for the first time in a long time, he felt—maybe, this place could be his new, true home.
Ben looked around. Pagar Village was completely different from his hometown. Clean streets, neat houses with green yards, and fresh air free from vehicle exhaust fumes or internet cafe dust. There was no loud video game, no screaming street kids, no distracting screens. Life here was simple, natural, and peaceful. And for the first time in a long time, Ben felt a glimmer of peace he thought he had lost forever.
He walked through the courtyard, breathing in the fresh air and watching the trees sway gently in the afternoon breeze. In the silence, something suddenly crossed his mind—the image of an old man, the one who had once woken him up when he nearly overdosed as a child. The image was faint, but clear to his eyes: a face full of tenderness, a hand patting his shoulder, and a gentle voice saying, "I'm still waiting for you, son… don't give up."
Ben smiled faintly, his eyes glistening with tears. "Wait for me, Old Man… I'll find you," he whispered to himself. "Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth, I'll find you. I'll make it up to you."
He stared at the trees and the village road, as if hoping to see that figure again. But all he felt was a calm and a slowly growing hope. For the first time, Ben felt that despite the darkness of the world and the mistakes of the past, there was a real chance to start over.
Her steps slowly, filled with curiosity and a little nervousness, she gazed at her aunt's warm home, where her family awaited her with sincere smiles. In her heart, she made a promise: this was a new beginning. And this time, she would fight, not to prove herself to others, but to find the Ben she had once lost—the boy who had once had dreams, courage, and a pure heart.