To Murder your Love

The Second Clue

I heard it, almost too sacred to be overlooked. The vibrant noise of its voice, despite being within my own imagination, has had myself dispersed into its charismatic elegance. I hope the person behind this knows what they did to me for diving back into my memories once more.

One thing for certain : it has brought me into reason. I have to locate the culprit or whatever that voice told me.

(piss...)

Ugh, my wee-wee is drenching my bed, and somewhat increasing in every movement I took. It’s totally gross, but I can’t do anything else but being sweaty in overall. Oh my, how about my brother down there?

He popped his eyes to me, grinning in my crime of late. Sweet tooth retaliation for what I have done to him in the past, maybe?

“Mom, Yuda pissing himself again!”

Damn it, Ricky. Don’t tell this to mom.....And here she comes, appeared concerned of my behavior in such starter of a day. While clasping her nose to prevent unholy smell from my underdeveloped pee-pee by the left, She muttered words to my work of art with her right hand on the waist,“The stench.....Put that to the washer, Yuda! Be responsible to what you did!” She said, trying to spell sentences correctly under her breath.

“Okay, mom....”

I’m not regretting any of this, nor being upset to the cry of victory from Ricky. After all, this is merely the beginning of my challenge, so nothing to be worried about.

Wait for me, Mrs. Murderer out there. The retaliation has just begun!

---

With clean spirit up my head, I have to tackle my scores first. I’m not a gifted person here, due to Nia Cassandra and her silent-killing intelligence, but this ancient memories of mine would surely win the race. By far, her mind is one of the ultimate fuel of my interest in the past, yet also being a threat on my total dominance by sheer knowledge of the future. 

And to kick it off, I have to go to school first with willingness to learn, right?

(Kring!!Kring!!)

“Yuda, let’s go back to class!” A chubby-looking kid shouts towards me from the distance as he springs two-jump across the stairs. He is Henry Djoyo, one of my close friend of elementary school. His powerful speed and capabilities on dribbling the bottle ball is staggering, and he loves to play those bottle early-morning game than anyone else. rather of passing the bottle to his teammates, he tends to score by himself immediately. Not an arrogance on my perspective, but his willingness to fight for winning in my opinion.

To speak of his appearance, the one worth speaking about are the two marmot-like cheeks and his overwhelming cuteness on the face. His spiky hair, otherwise, is making those two round fat pouch shining even more. Well, speaking of the devil of my reason, his height is one of the self-defining part of the name I have given him, but it is really not for everyone to heard, of course.

(Bam!)

From the back, an intense clutch grasp me firm to encircle my neck. As I try to see who’s coming, it is Kevin Rudianto. He is included in bristly hair club as Henry does. However, he holds much sluggish body than being an athletic youngster like the spiky gerbils up the staircase. He doesn’t like sport, but love to talk and interacting in physical means to whom he deemed as a friend.

And by the answer of physical, it’s about being bullied in soft ways, against which I could not return at the same level as he did towards me.

I forgot of one element...that ugly bastard of a boy... where is he? Oh right, Leo is not in the same class as I am. Have to wait until fourth grade....

---

“Pass me the ball, Yuda! Come on!” Henry shouted at me, the goalkeeper of my team. On the other end, Kevin runs in barely effortless speed to cover the spearhead of our team, but still make it to the line he’s supposed to shift in.

“Here!”

As I throw the ball, it hits nicely to the small chest of our young gerbils. He swiftly pass it to one of our ace, Steven, who turns out the ball to the ghost-in-the-shell Kevin. That man is surely reluctant to play, the ball choose to overlook his talent and firing away from his path. Lucky for him, it is somewhat hitting our opponent’s legs beforehand.

Steven Gunawan screams on the man to give the ball,”To me! To me!” As he finds a space in between the guard of other end’s part. Henry flings the ball to him and given a chance for our top-class attacker to go forward.

He is, by the uttermost crumple of memories that I could stumbling myself upon, the most good looking personnel of my elementary school ever. Spotless pale-yellow skin with a magical horde of a smile, handsome figure, and a broad shoulder of his future spans across his female counterpart. For today, he is still belong to us the ugly community, but to the modelling career in his adulthood for sure.

“You're not!”

“Try me, Dani!”

The other important player from the opponent’s team tries to flick the ball from Steven’s grasp. He is Dani Juwono, the other athletic kid in my elementary school. He has a lean and swift-sailing form of a figure, a perfect fit for a football player in his school era. From the latest one I had remember, he is going to suffer from obesity in his adult life, but the future could be changed if I can, right?

Please, bring that man a good tackle, brother. Make those beautiful face suffer for once. I’ll surely push you to diet if we go to same high school, Dani!

Yuck, his small feet fails to hit those pretty ones. Steven’s trial to score our first has also failed to reach its destination. The silly gliding of a ball, as we are merely learning on kicking a shot, has denied by the left-side pole of the goal.

I do regret for not punching him in the face to reform something up by force.

Wha.....

(Prittt!!)

“Wohoooo!!!!” Steven shrieks in happiness by the happy-go-lucky shot from Kevin. He choose to pass, but for God’s sake he didn’t even try to look at where it could land. Although Kevin is seemingly absent on how to cross, he is good on being lucky sometimes. The bad pass, one that actually went to fall behind the line of a corner and given no bounds to us for scoring in the last minute of our 15 minutes game, somehow pounced against one of our enemies’ unsuspected bottom parts to score a goal.

A leprechaun of our team, indeed, for his magical sportsmanship to fulfill the game’s win.

Not so long after, Henry pats my back to give me a round of support,“You’re more like Duda, Yuda. That save is cool!” He says, mimicking his father’s immediate scream whenever a penalty goal has saved by the man. Being a small kid with no knowledge of football in essence, We have literally zero idea on who that person is. Time’s for sleep in nine, and no football at that time, so we’re not having it until our sleeping hours reduced two-fold than what we need at this point.

After all, we are mostly will be so wear-off whenever the time hits nine. Our bodily schedule has arranged ourselves to refuse on being conscious for two more hours. If it’s not the case, our parents would be the living clock for our night owl’s life.

A smug from my face, to protect my purity and persona, is rising up by those appreciation from Henry. Duda is one of the idols of our age. His wide range of arms prevent any ball to enter his domain. Truly a masterclass of a goalkeeper, especially with his team of old, hence my pride of getting such a trophy from my dearest classmates of first grade.

After the end of our tireless sport, the whistle of an end is thundering down our game. It is our first taste on ball game, the eternal fire of love that strengthen the will of a man. We are, of all things, worships “being in a center of attention” at all times. Bringing goals to our team could also carry on our relationships and access to the club of popularity. To resource the need, the lovely part of being in school again is physical exercise as one of many paths to be the king of our hill. For me, It’s better for doing so by three hours or longer, but our school teacher won’t provide us with the need to prove ourselves on the pitch.

---

“Good evening, Yuda, trouble sleeping?”

The apparition of an adult appears ahead of me as I was doing my math for tomorrow’s work. Without delay, I give my best shots on firing a gun off my throat.

“Haaa!”

It is no matter whether I am a kid or being a matured person, an unintended encounter with ghost is always scary to the bone. That is the main reason for me to not watching horror movies at all.

My mom, on the other way around, is blasting to my bedroom for giving me a helping hand. She knows my bad blood with cockroaches, so she has brought one of the spray inside the safety of her left hand to fend it off for me. 

“Where is it, Yuda? I’ll kill it with this.” Said my mom, assuring my own bottom from harm,” Is it behind the desk?”

“No mom, it’s nothing.” I answered as much as I can. My mom would not believe in what I have truly saw, but I know it will re-appear when she barged out from my room.

As she closes the door, the apparition re-emerges. It is someone I am familiar with, but having vague information to start. Not every segment of my memory is redeemable, and his presence is one of the many I haven’t been disclose yet.

“Hello, Yuda. I have learned that you are scared of me, but I am the voice of your dream. For the next clue of your travel, you’ll need to exchange what you have consider as mistakes for the return of the answer.”

“I don’t understan-“

(Poof)

“It’s gone....”

Too shady for my taste, that man. He must be in a hurry to take a leak. Being known of your identity will not carry me to forget that nasty jumpscare, too, you know?