CHAPTER 2 - UNDERSTANCE
1408 Words
The first morning at Grandma's house felt like I woke up from an unfinished dream. The sun only rose half when Aira stood in front of a small mirror in her room, still wearing a blue and blue uniform that looked too foreign to her. His hand grabbed a pale blue pendant that appeared overnight from nowhere. Although he has convinced himself that all of that might be just a dream, this pendant still hangs on his neck - clear and cold, refuses to be explained.
Grandma did not talk much when serving breakfast. Chicken porridge and sweet, warm and simple tea. But Aira caught a glimpse of a strange highlight in Grandma's eyes when she saw the pendant on her neck.
"That ... new necklace?" Grandma asked without raising her face.
Aira nodded slowly. "Yes. Last night ... somehow was on the table."
Grandma was silent for a moment. The spoon in his hand stopped stirring porridge.
"Don't go to the attic too often," he said, this time his voice was cold. "You might see things that shouldn't be seen."
Aira frowned. "What does grandmother mean?"
But grandma did not answer anymore. His eyes returned to the porridge, as if the conversation had never happened.
---
His new school is not far from home - a state junior high school with old buildings but still maintained. Aira took a deep breath before stepping into the gate, trying to adjust to a strange world. Inside, students run around, joke, exclaimed. Everything went as usual - too ordinary, to feel empty for him.
Class 8B rooms are no different from other school classes that he once knew: Two-two wooden tables, dark green blackboards, and faint lime aroma. But what is different is the gaze of his new friends. They turned around when he entered, watching him longer than he should. Some whisper each other. Aira did not know whether because of her pale face, or because she was a transfer student who came in the middle of the semester.
"Introduce yourself, son," said Mrs. Santi, their homeroom teacher. Middle -aged women with a faint smile but sharp eyes.
Aira stood in front of the class. "My name is Aira. I moved from Bandung."
Instantly, the whispering sound was heard again.
"Bandung?" whispered a boy in the back row. "From the city ..."
"Living in Mardiah's grandmother's house, huh?" Asked another student, half whispering.
Aira just nodded. For some reason, every time Grandma's house was called, their tone turned slower. More careful.
The only thing that looks not awkward is a girl with short hair with purple ribbons. He smiled broadly as Aira sat next to him.
"I'm Nina," he whispered. "If there is something strange, just say me, yes."
Aira was surprised. "Strange?"
Nina didn't answer, just chuckling. But there was something behind her laughter that made Aira feel that the girl knew something else.
---
The day passed slowly. During a break, Aira sat alone under a large trembesi tree in the corner of the school yard. His hands held the pendant, his eyes were empty staring at the sky.
"Shem too, yes, you live in that house," Nina's voice appeared from nowhere.
Aira turned around. "Why scary?"
Nina sat next to her, hugging her knees. "Your grandmother's house ... famous. When I was little, he said there was a voice from inside the attic. People said, there was an old mirror from your great grandfather, which ... strange."
"How strange?"
Nina glanced right and left before whispering, "Her mirror can show something that does not exist. Sometimes ... shows the past. Or the future. Or something that is not from this world."
Aira shuddered. He had never told me about the mirror to anyone. But Nina knows. From where?
"But it's just a village story, anyway," Nina said quickly, maybe seeing Aira's expression changed. "Myths."
Aira just nodded. But in his heart, everything feels more real. The pendant on his neck again throbbed slowly.
---
After school, Aira returned to climbing the stairs of Grandma's house with heavy steps. Grandma is not at home, he said to the market. Rare opportunities.
Without thinking, he opened the attic door again.
The mirror is still there. Standing arrogantly in the middle of a pile of old things, as if Know Aira will return. The afternoon sun infiltrated the roof board, illuminating the dust dancing in the air. The mirror ... does not reflect light as it should. The surface looks deeper. More like the surface of a calm lake than glass.
And this time, the reflection did not follow Aira's movements perfectly.
When he approached, his figure in the mirror looked a little late to turn. Then smiled faintly. A smile that did not come from Aira's lips.
"Who are you?" Aira whispered.
The reflection did not answer. But the hand in the mirror moves, lifting the same pendant as Aira is wearing. And when the pendant was touched by a figure in the mirror, the blue light exploded slowly from inside the stone. The room was briefly illuminated by a strange flash.
Aira retreated, panicked. But when he was about to turn around and down, a voice came from behind him. Not grandmother's voice. Nor is the voice of anyone he has ever known.
But his own voice, said in a tone that ... not his.
"Don't run, Aira. You finally came."
Aira froze.
He turned his head. There is no one behind him. But the sound was still echoing, as if it came from ... in his head. Or from the mirror itself.
The pendant on his neck began to hot.
"Open your eyes. This world is not the only one," the voice returned.
Aira ran down, closing the attic door with breath gasping. His body trembled, cold sweat soaked his back.
He entered the room and locked in it. But at the small table next to the bed, there is something new: a piece of paper, obsolete and thin, which reads a sentence with black ink that is almost faded:
"Glass never just reflects - he also remembers."
Aira held the paper with trembling hands. The world he knows slowly cracks. And the shadow itself ... no longer just a shadow.
---
---
That night, Aira couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his shadow in the mirror reappeared - smiling, touched the pendant, and spoke in the same but different voice. He turned in bed, repeatedly staring at the pendant on his neck. The blue stone now looks brighter than usual, glowing gently in the dark.
He got up and turned on a small lights on the table. The worn paper that he found this afternoon was still there. Handwriting in a jet black ink made her hair stand.
"Glass never just reflects - he also remembers."
Why was the message addressed to him? Who wrote it?
His mind floated to Nina's story at school earlier. About mirrors that can show the past or future.
But what if ... that's not what happened? What if the mirror shows something else - something that is not from this world?
Suddenly, Aira remembered something. He opened the desk drawer, stirring the inside. His old diary, which he used to bring since childhood, was tucked in between piles of books. He had never written it again since moving. But now, his hands feel itchy to write. Shed all the confusion, fear, and strange hunches that haunted him.
＞ "Today, I see myself in the mirror. But he is not me. He is calmer, darker. His smile is like a shadow waiting for his time to appear."
After writing, Aira closed the diary and looked at the small mirror on the table. This time the reflection looks normal. But he knew, behind the glass, there was something that could not be explained with logic.
His eyes pounded on the wall near the door. There is a strange shadow there - like the symbol shape, a faint carving that resembles a circle with three cross -lines in the middle. He had never seen him before. When he approached, the symbol slowly faded, as if it could only be seen under certain conditions.
"Is this ... a sign?" he whispered.
The pendant around his neck again throbbed. Fine vibrations that propagated to his chest, like an innate answer.
Aira knows, her life will not return to the same.
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- Writer
