Thank you for reading <3 - Lela
Mastura opened her eyes at the touch of little handprints. It took a while for her 5 year old to wake her up; after all, she did slept like a log because she went to bed late last night. Her little tot had taken a bath by herself before and was looking for her kindergarten uniform.
She quickly rose from the couch and asked her daughter softly to sit at the dining table first. Her hands nimbly ran through her hair, bunching up all loose strands into a bun. She was late, but nevertheless, she attended to her Fajr prayer. Right after folding her praying cloth, her legs led her to the kitchen on automatic to whip up breakfast. A few stirs and sizzles later, she plated two fried eggs and placed it in on the table.
"Bunga, please eat your breakfast first okay? Ibu will go and iron your shirt."
"Okay, bu."
Bunga nodded sincerely and forked the scrambled eggs bit by bit into her mouth as she watched her mother disappeared into a room with her light green kindergarten jubbah. A salty-peppery taste dissolved into her tongue and she took a sip from the glass of warm water next to her right hand. She saw the steam from the iron at the corner of her eye as her mother moved the iron plate all over the jubbah. Not a wrinkle was missed. The mobile phone in Mastura's pocket rang in emergency. She picked it up and shrugged her shoulder to hold her phone to her ear. She grunted as she flipped over the jubbah to its other side, pressing the iron harder to flatten out pesky wrinkles that insisted on staying.
"Yes, Encik Azman, I will deliver the manuscript today. Trust me on this one would you? I have never failed you before."
With that being said, she put an end to the call. Then, she helped her daughter prepare for school. She grabbed her keys and they were out of the door when she turned back around to take her pen drive containing her manuscript. Forgetting her pen drive could've been embarrassing, especially with how her tone with her employer just then. She drove extra manically on that morning, keeping in mind to not break the traffic law. Time was of essence. She was late, but she doesn't want her daughter to be reprimanded because of her. Her five year-old tugged her sleeves.
"Ibu, slow down, please?"
"...but you would be late, is that really okay?"
"Uhm, can you please slow down just enough so it becomes less dangerous?"
Mastura didn't have the heart or the will to refuse the polite request from the love of her life. She nodded, smiled gently and she lifted her feet from the accelerator slightly. The car slowed down and the blur at the window cleared up a little. It felt like an old television set went from jagged lines of grey to crisp pictures. Bunga turned on the radio and switched the frequency to find their favourite channel.
**********
That was when everything happened in a bitter slow motion. The last time Ibu spoke to me, she asked me if it is okay to be late. There was a sound of our window being dug by bullet. I think it made a blunt piercing noise when it hit Ibu's head at a deadly mathematical precision. Ibu's body limped slightly to my side, her hand that was holding the steering seemed to loosen a little. Just like that, my school day began with a splatter of blood; the bullet barely grazed my skin before it bloomed a crack on the window at my side of the car.
Our car swerved in a seemingly never-ending circular frenzy and slammed against a few other cars. There were bangs and clangs, wild horns, and horrific screams. That gave us some impact time before the car was finally stopped by a road divider. I held on tight to my purple school bag, Ibu used to read me science books and having something soft against you should make falling a little less painful. The inertia threw Ibu's body to the left and as safety belt bounded as I am, my body followed suit in a violent jar. My schoolbag was useless against the power of physics. It didn't hurt when the car skidded to a stop, but after a moment, my body ache all over and my vision blurred.
I must have had hit the dashboard or something else in the car because I felt thick liquid drenching my left eyebrow. Blood dripped down slowly into my eye and blurred my vision. The DJ of our favourite channel greeted Malaysia 'good morning' when my body decided to sleep.
*Author's Note*
Thank you to Maelstorm_Works for recommending readable paragraphs <3 credits to her for that.
Vocabulary:
Ibu - Mother
Bunga - Flower (It is a hella classic name.)
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I will try to update the story every two weeks
It's okay to cry. - Lela
*The media do not belong to me, credits go to its rightful owner
© 2017 Lela Rentaka
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Chasing Trails
Misterio / SuspensoLiving a life close to covet writings, Mastura's life is potentially on gunpoint every time her fingers dance on her keyboard. She inks justice while raising her only child, Bunga, by love. But did she made the right choice? -Or have she dragged B...