Chapter 6 : The Truth
1681 Words
“Al.”
Aditia sat beside Alya on one of the benches overlooking the university's archery field. The morning sun filtered softly through the open training hall, painting golden streaks across the floor. Alya had come to practice despite not having any classes that day, something she often did whenever she wanted to clear her mind.
The campus provided several facilities for student athletes, and the archery range was among the best.
Alya rested her bow against her hip while cleaning one of her arrows.
“Yeah, Ya?” she replied casually. “What’s with the sudden invitation this early?”
She glanced at her watch.
“It’s only ten in the morning. Usually around this time you're busy driving your mom and sister around.”
Alya always called him *Ya*.
Not Adit.
Not Aditia.
Just *Ya*.
Years ago, when he asked why she insisted on calling him differently, she had smiled and said:
“Because then our names sound alike. ADITIYA. ALYA.”
Such a simple explanation.
Yet every time he remembered it, his heart still reacted the same way.
“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Aditia said carefully. “I couldn't pick you up.”
“That’s okay.”
“By the way... what were you doing there so early in the morning?”
Alya continued polishing the arrow.
“I was actually staying at a friend's house. Then my car broke down.”
She shrugged.
“You know how annoying that car can be.”
“So I called a tow truck. While waiting, I realized I was pretty close to your neighborhood. That's why I called you.”
Aditia listened quietly.
“Has the car been repaired?”
“Not yet. It’s still at the workshop.”
She smiled.
“I've been using another car.”
Aditia stared at her.
If the vision had been real, the front of Alya's sedan should have been severely damaged. It had struck Bude Pecel once, reversed, and struck her again.
No vehicle could escape that without obvious damage.
Yet Alya looked perfectly calm.
Too calm.
“Al.”
“Hmm?”
“Come with me.”
She frowned.
“Where?”
“Just trust me.”
Without explaining further, Aditia gently pulled her to her feet.
---
Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at a familiar intersection.
The same intersection.
The place where Bude Pecel had died.
Aditia parked his angkot at the roadside.
“Why are we stopping here?”
Alya remained seated.
Without answering, Aditia stepped outside, walked around the vehicle, opened her door, and extended his hand.
Reluctantly, she followed.
He guided her toward the exact spot where Bude Pecel had been standing that morning.
Then he crouched down.
Alya watched him silently.
Their hands were still connected.
“Bude Pecel used to sell food outside my elementary school.”
His voice was soft.
“She was kind.”
The memories came flooding back.
“When children didn't have money, she'd still feed them.”
He swallowed hard.
“The only thing she asked in return was for them to pray and thank Allah.”
A tear rolled down his cheek.
“She used to give me free meals too.”
Aditia lowered his gaze.
“She always said I was a good kid.”
Another tear followed.
“She told me to study hard.”
For a moment, only silence existed between them.
Then he pointed toward the road.
“Yesterday she was standing right here.”
His finger trembled.
“Waiting for an angkot.”
He pointed toward another direction.
“The sedan came from over there.”
His voice grew sharper.
“Driving fast.”
Alya remained silent.
“It hit her.”
Aditia clenched his fists.
“Her head was crushed.”
The pain and anger he had been carrying finally surfaced.
“It destroyed her.”
Still, Alya's expression didn't change.
She simply looked at him.
“Then what?”
Aditia stared in disbelief.
“The license plate was B 411 YA.”
His voice cracked.
“That’s your car.”
A long silence followed.
Then Alya nodded.
“Yes.”
Aditia froze.
“I was driving it.”
The world seemed to stop.
“If it was my car, then I was the one who hit her.”
There was no panic.
No excuse.
No denial.
Only acceptance.
Aditia grabbed her shoulders.
“Do you realize what you're saying?”
His voice echoed through the empty roadside.
“You could get three years in prison.”
His grip tightened.
“Maybe five because you ran away.”
“What about your education?”
“What about your athletic career?”
“What about your future?”
For the first time, emotion flashed across Alya's eyes.
But not fear.
Not regret.
Something else.
“Take me to the police station.”
She turned and walked back toward the angkot.
Leaving Aditia standing alone.
---
A few hours later they were sitting inside the Central Jakarta Police Department.
Because Alya had surrendered voluntarily, the officers immediately began preparing an official statement.
Pak Dirga conducted the questioning.
“So tell me exactly what happened.”
“I was exhausted,” Alya answered.
“I had been training and hanging out with friends. I hadn't slept.”
Pak Dirga nodded.
“Then?”
“I got sleepy while driving.”
She lowered her head.
“I lost control.”
“How did you hit the victim?”
Alya raised both hands.
Using one finger to represent Bude Pecel and the other to represent her vehicle, she demonstrated a single collision.
The vehicle struck.
Then left.
Nothing more.
Pak Dirga frowned.
“Are you certain?”
Aditia slowly shook his head.
Pak Dirga noticed immediately.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“I'll be placing you in temporary detention while we continue our investigation.”
He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Alya extended her wrists without resistance.
Before he secured them, she pointed toward a ring on her finger.
“Can I keep wearing this?”
“It belonged to my grandmother.”
Pak Dirga considered it.
“For now, yes.”
Then he escorted her toward the holding cells.
Aditia remained seated.
Lost in thought.
After returning, Pak Dirga sat beside him.
“What do you think?”
Aditia stared at the floor.
“If she really did it... why doesn't she know what happened?”
Pak Dirga folded his arms.
“You told me this morning that the driver hit the victim twice.”
Aditia nodded.
“First impact.”
Pak Dirga raised one finger.
“Then reversed.”
A second finger.
“And hit her again.”
A third.
“Before fleeing.”
“Yes.”
“Yet Alya only described one collision.”
Silence filled the room.
“Something doesn't fit.”
Aditia exhaled heavily.
“I don't think she's lying.”
“Neither do I.”
Pak Dirga leaned back.
“But here's the problem.”
He lowered his voice.
“I looked into her family.”
Aditia looked up.
“They're influential.”
The meaning was obvious.
“She could be released within a day or two.”
The possibility left a bitter taste in Aditia's mouth.
Despite everything, Alya had willingly surrendered.
That alone meant something.
Yet his instincts kept telling him that the truth was still hidden somewhere.
---
That night, Aditia dreamed.
Or perhaps it wasn't a dream.
He stood upon an endless sea of white sand.
There was no horizon.
No sky.
No sound.
Only endless whiteness stretching in every direction.
“Where am I?”
His voice disappeared into the emptiness.
He ran.
And ran.
And ran.
Yet nothing changed.
The landscape simply repeated itself endlessly.
Then he noticed a child.
A little girl crouching in the sand.
Her long curly hair reached her waist.
She wore a white nightgown.
No older than five.
Beautiful.
Fragile.
Alone.
Aditia approached carefully.
“Little sister?”
He knelt beside her.
“Where are we?”
The child turned toward him.
Her face was pale.
Too pale.
Without speaking, she raised a finger and pointed ahead.
Aditia followed her gaze.
And froze.
Something enormous stood in the distance.
A towering black figure.
Its body was painfully thin.
Its ribs protruded from its chest.
Long hair hung around its face.
Its eyes glowed red.
The moment it appeared, the sky darkened.
The air became unbearably hot.
“Tolong aku...”
Help me...
The little girl's voice trembled.
Blood began flowing from her eyes.
Without hesitation, Aditia lifted her into his arms and ran.
The creature chased them.
Its legs were impossibly long.
Every step covered enormous distances.
Aditia ran as fast as he could.
But it wasn't enough.
The monster caught them.
Its skeletal hands reached forward.
The girl screamed.
And was ripped from his arms.
“No!”
Aditia lunged after them.
Desperate.
Helpless.
Then he noticed something.
A necklace.
The little girl wore a necklace.
And the moment he recognized it—
He woke up.
---
“Astaghfirullahaladzim.”
His entire body was drenched in sweat.
Again.
“Astaghfirullahaladzim.”
His heart hammered violently against his chest.
Then realization struck him.
The necklace.
The child.
The monster.
Everything connected.
Immediately he grabbed his phone.
“Pak Dirga.”
His voice shook.
“Sorry for calling this late.”
“It's midnight, Dit.”
The officer sounded half asleep.
“What happened?”
“Are you at the station?”
“Of course not.”
“Who's watching Alya?”
The concern in Aditia's voice instantly woke him.
“One of my colleagues. Why?”
Aditia was already inside his angkot.
The engine roared to life.
“Pak.”
He stepped on the accelerator.
“I know who the real culprit is.”
Silence.
Then:
“What?”
“It wasn't Alya.”
The speedometer climbed higher.
“Who is it?”
Pak Dirga shouted.
“Who?!”
Aditia gripped the steering wheel.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
And then he screamed the answer.
“BEGU GANJANG!”
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD