The Shadow of Dark Death

The Shadow of Death

        The Shadow of Dark Death. “Hasn’t he slept well?”, She asked me about my father who was still awake.

       “He looks he’s never slept. It has been a long time I always hear his voice. Noon up to noon again. It never stops.”

       “Why is he acting like that?”

       “I do not know? Whole event that happened, it seems to be his business”

       “Be sure, he had forgotten something!”

       “What’s that?”


       Mom and I were arguing about my father who was pacing in front of the television. His anxiety used to emanate from the movement he made. Whether it’s the way she folded sarong, or moved his fingers clenching and un-clenching like pumping something. I was worried about it when I was about that. For when I was about blood donor, the nurse at the hospital asked me to clench and open palms, she asked me to do this to make the blood would be flowing smoothly. I was worried my father’s blood would flow through his body even blow his own heart.

       “Dad, your eyes look red.” I dared to say to him.

       “It’s because of lack of sleep, Yon. I also feel my eyes burning”.

       “Why do not you sleep, Dad?”

       “Sleep? I will not sleep again”.

       “Everyone needs a break, Dad. Do not force yourself!”, I protested.

       “I’ve spent much of my rest. Now it is the time for being on the alert!”

       “What’s going on, Dad?”, The more I did not understand.

       “You will not know if you are not having it yourself”.

       “What is it? Dream?”

       “No. However it’s sound of warning”.

       “Don’t you know who warned you?”

       Daddy just shocked his head slowly. His eyes seemed burning, there was pain and anger radiated. I saw the veins so real that daddy was like a dead man walking.

       Mom made warm milk. He said it was panacea for insomnia. It was a large glass of milk, you’d quickly recovered. With a sweet smile, as usual, mom approached dad. She hugged and kissed his hand. Actually, a couple of days ago she tried to melt daddy’s custody. She did not want her husband to be a freak for the life of their family. But until now he has not been able to make a reasonable father as according to her ideas.

       “Please drink the milk, Dad. While it is still warm”.

       “I’m not thirsty Mom, I will do it later”.

       “Shall I make coffee?”

       “No mom, I just could not sleep. There is no big deal”.

       “That’s a big problem, Dad,” she started to protest father.

       “You do not want me to be a widow is not it?”

       “Mom what are you doing? Instead I guard it from all possibilities”, Daddy began to rise.

       “What do you actually hear?”

       “The voice of warning to be on the alert”.

       “Don’t you ask again who’s asking?”

       “I’m sure it’s a sacred sound”. Father talked flat.

       This time we were all silent. Nobody else wanted to talk. The world was like halting seconds of old clock in the corner room. I lost my mind. Mother was too. Dad was unbearable. His willing was so hard. We were just wonder how the old physical of father was able to be forced like that.


        Mother’s eyes were red. It’s all days she cried. Her eyelids were swollen eyelids so I felt the air nearby was so humid. I got shift watch, because her physical looked weak. Father’s death, though we always beware because he did not want to sleep, it happened that we never anticipated. At that time we were having dinner, he suddenly stood up.

        “Where are you going, Dad?”

       “There is a knock, do not you hear? It seems there is a guest”.

       Mom and I looked at each other. We did not hear anything.

       Yet he stood upright, his eyes went wide and his body was seizures. We immediately rushed towards him.

       “What happen, dad?”, We asked simultaneously. Repeatedly.

       “Why do you deceive me?”, He shouted.

       Mom and I looked at each other again. Who exactly has deceived you? We? Deceptive what?

       Before all was answered, father’s body was bewildered. Our hands quickly caught his body before he fell. At that time, Father looked to be in a circumstance of rage. But we could never understand to this day what made ​​him so angry. Soon, he was lifeless. Mom was blaring clumsy. I held my tears in heart. My heart was racing. Our question can never be answered again. I also hold a grudge. I don’t know to whom I should have grudge. That is clearly not to God whose life of my father was in His hands had grasped. Ah, I do not want to think about that so far, this night let me reassure my mother before reporting to the chairman of the village and notify neighbors.

       Mother’s eyes were still red, even after her face turned pale, her eyes were growing red. They were like the fire was burning the night sky. Burning. I had to lower my gaze when close to her.

       “Mom, it’s late. … Please go to sleep,” I said.

       Mom just shook her head slowly.

       “Poor father, he is sleeping alone in a lonely grave”

       I shuddered to hear. I wished to God that mom could survive.

       “Daddy has gone to quiet home. Mom should let him”, I tried to calm her mind. Even though I knew she would never be calm. There were things that she wanted to tell to him in her own way. As a son, I did not have to know.

       Finally, before dawn, she fell asleep. Although it was not so soundly sleeping, her eyes were still moving despite folded eyelids. I went to my own room. I just lay down to relieve fatigue that it was severe sag in the back. Since last night I worked hard to take care of the father’s funeral.


       This room was still familiar to me. In fact I could never escape it from my sight. The color of the wall was light green (father once made ​​the paint selection; he said that light green color was the color of a teenager who grew up with full expectation) this time it looked dull and mossy everywhere. There was musty smell. It looked that the windows with wooden lattice that had never been opened for a long time. Musty smell from pants, jean jacket, and a black T-shirt that they hung burst since the door was unfolding.

       Had there gone for a long time? I did not want to dwell so long in that room. The air of the room was so cold for me that I felt increasingly fragile. My mind drifted back to some time ago.

       In a small house. Earning as a teacher – my father – who just had a simple wish. Having a happy home. Being a leader in a small group called the family. With full responsibility preserved us from all bad impact mixing of the capital. But at the end, he gave in to an uncertain fate. Instead of looking for additional family income, he was involved falsification of an official document of approval. Then, about four years he had left a beautiful wife and children left adolescence. Both of us assumed that father was as a liar.

       But then – who knew what it was called – because of awareness or simply entertain daddy as the person who lost the war, mom and me shut all the events that had gone behind him. Until a few days before his death the father was hearing voices that remind him always keep watch.


       Before I closed the door, there was a whispering softly from the room. I stared at the glass window. There’s a shadow there. The shadow of the Dark Death.

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