Ahh…: Chapter 3: Resenment

At that table sat a solitary keeper of a house in the middle of a vast meadow, quietly sipping tea while observing his surroundings. His eyes wandered to the dull walls, where cracks had begun to spread. Then he looked at the wooden door frame — aged, brittle, slowly splitting apart. The fractures seemed alive, crawling wider, multiplying, stretching across every surface.

That morning at six, Cantika woke from her sleep — coincidentally, it was Saturday, her day off. She rose, washed her face, and immediately helped her mother clean the house. She swept the front yard gently, carefully — as if afraid a single speck of dust might remain. Not long after, the sound of water splashing from a bucket echoed softly. She mopped the floors with precision and discipline. For some reason, something felt… off. She found herself repeatedly mopping one particular room — her mother’s room. One room after another, she continued until every corner was done.

After finishing, she moved on to washing dishes in the kitchen. The sound of running water from the tap filled the air as she cleaned each plate slowly and thoroughly. Beside her, the sharp sizzle of stir-frying rang out — her mother was cooking eggs and tempeh, the aroma rich and comforting.

After tidying up, she had breakfast to restore the energy she had regained from last night’s deep sleep. Shortly after, she returned to her office work. She opened her laptop — but for a moment, she simply stared at it, blank and absent. Not long after, she regained focus and began inputting data. The clatter of the keyboard grew louder, so consuming that she didn’t realize how much she had typed. Briefly, that strange feeling returned — something wasn’t right.

“Ahh… maybe it’s just my imagination,” she thought.

Her awareness returned, and she continued typing — until without realizing it, the once-bright daylight slowly faded into dusk.

That afternoon, while she was still focused on her work, she heard the piercing whistle of a kettle, followed by the fragrant aroma of tea. Cantika grew curious. Why did her mother always make tea every evening? Soft footsteps echoed gently from the kitchen. Her mother walked calmly — slow, rhythmic. Mia passed by the living room chair where Cantika sat. In that moment, curiosity overwhelmed her — what exactly did her mother always do every evening while waiting for her?

Outside, Mia sat on that old, worn chair, as if savoring the evening. Cantika, who had been watching her from afar, slowly closed her laptop and walked quietly toward the terrace. She took a plastic chair nearby and sat beside her mother.

“Mom… are you resting?”

Mia, who had been gazing at the orange sky, turned toward her.

“Oh… aren’t you busy?” her mother asked.

“Mm… I’m almost done, just a little left,” Cantika replied innocently.

Mia smiled faintly and returned her gaze to the evening sky. They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the wind filling the space between them.

Suddenly, Cantika spoke again.

“Mom… you really like the evening sky, don’t you?”

“Why do you ask?” Mia replied.

“All this time… I often see you out here, especially when I’m working. Every time I come home, you’re always here… sometimes until late,” Cantika explained.

A faint smile curved on Mia’s lips.

“My child… I’m getting old… and I’m tired. So this is what I do… watching the beauty of the evening sky before the sun sets.”

“But… don’t you ever get bored just looking at the sky?” Cantika asked.

“To me… this isn’t something boring,” Mia said softly, reaching out and touching Cantika’s cheek. “This is how I enjoy my life… while watching my children grow.”

Cantika fell silent.

“Mom… do you have… a wish for this evening?” she asked gently.

“I only wish to see my children succeed in the future,” Mia answered. “And maybe… when the time comes and I’m gone… I want it to be like this — sitting here, watching the evening.”

Cantika froze — fear and shock rushed through her.

“MOM… don’t say that… Cantika wants you to see us succeed. Please… don’t say things like that…”

Mia chuckled softly.

“It’s alright, my child… if fate allows me more time, I will watch all of you succeed.”

They embraced, watching the orange sky together, savoring every moment of their togetherness — until the evening faded into gray clouds, and the sun disappeared without a trace.

They returned inside the old house.

After that peaceful evening, night eventually came. The sound of sizzling oil from the kitchen filled the air, accompanied by the aroma of sautéed kangkung and corn fritters. That night, Mia, Raka, and Cantika gathered at the dining table. It was a calm and warm dinner — at least for most of them.

But not for Cantika.

She felt uneasy, chewing without peace.

“Mom… where’s Alex?” she asked.

“I don’t know… it’s been almost four days since your brother hasn’t come home,” Mia replied.

“Yeah, sis… Alex hasn’t been home for almost four days… no one knows where he is,” Raka added.

Cantika only nodded, as if she already knew this had become normal. They continued eating in silence — but not her. Worry lingered in her chest.

After dinner, they went back to their routines. Raka returned to his room to study, Cantika stared again at her laptop, and Mia went to her room to rest.

That night, Cantika stayed up late again. She stared blankly at her laptop — something felt off. She continued working until late, the sound of the keyboard echoing sharply in the quiet room. Time slipped away unnoticed until it struck midnight.

She was about to sleep when suddenly —

A loud banging came from the front door.

As if she already knew who it was, Cantika walked toward it and opened the door.

Alex stood there again — bruised all over his face. Worse than before. Not just his face — his leg limped slightly.

Worried, she spoke.

“Oh my God… what happened to you? Your injuries are worse now… sit down, let me treat you.”

But Alex ignored her completely and walked past her toward his room.

“Hey… sit down first — ”

“ALEX!”

Her shout stopped him.

He turned sharply.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Alex yelled.

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!” Cantika shot back.

“Listen… I don’t need your attention anymore. Do you even realize? Because of you, I’ve lost all my dignity — DO YOU GET THAT?!” he snapped.

“WHAT DO YOU SAY… after everything I’ve done… all my sacrifices mean nothing? I don’t need your validation… but do you even realize WHO’S BEEN PROVIDING FOR YOU?!”

“SHUT UP! I’d be just fine without you! AND YOU’RE THE REASON I’M SUFFERING LIKE THIS!”

“SO YOU THINK I’M NOT SUFFERING?! I’ve been supporting this family without expecting anything in return! AND YOU? You’ve never helped us even once!”

“LISTEN — You’re just Mom’s little kid who knows nothing about life. Don’t lecture me about suffering. And I’m telling you this one last time — DON’T. BOTHER. ME. GOT IT?!”

Alex stormed into his room.

Tears rolled down Cantika’s cheeks. And before she realized it, the word slipped out —

“Bastard…”

Alex turned back instantly.

“What did you just say?”

“BASTARD!” she repeated louder.

“YOU’RE THE BASTARD!” he snapped, raising his hand.

“ENOUGH!”

Mia appeared from her room.

“ALEX… if you want to hit someone, hit me — not your sister. And you, Cantika… you’re a woman… you shouldn’t speak like that.”

She sighed deeply.

“Now both of you, go to your rooms. I’m ashamed… what if the neighbors hear this? Enough. Go. To. Your. Rooms.”

Before leaving, Cantika glanced at Alex for a brief moment — then walked to her room, holding back her tears.

Once inside, she broke.

She cried harder than she ever had before. She buried her face in a pillow to muffle the sound.

In her heart, she whispered:

“God… forgive me if I’m wrong… I don’t understand why You place such burdens on me. I’ll try to be strong… but please… just this once… let me cry as hard as I can.”

And she did.

She cried until exhaustion took over — until she fell asleep.

As if saying,

“Maybe I’m not strong today… but I’ll try again tomorrow.”

The wind swept across the vast meadow.

The keeper of the house sat in silence before it, crying — watching the cracks spread further across the walls. He saw them creeping, widening, consuming everything.

He realized —

the house he had been protecting all this time

would one day collapse.

He fell silent.

Then suddenly —

He screamed.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”