June 14, 2013

Exiliens - 2



I tug his white coat as he leaves his room. Magically, I am now standing right behind him without any infusions attached. I don’t know how I do this but this just magically happens. The doctor smiles seeing me confuse. I shook my head to the bed and it looks neat. The pillows and infusions lie on the bed tidily. Did I just……….teleport?

“Confused, kid?” he guides me back to the bed.

I sit on the bed, “Was I teleporting myself? Is that my superpower?”

He took a deep breath and spills everything I want to know, “Something like that. Like I said, everyone have a superpower. Your power is controlling time. Without you notice, you change time as how you want it to be. You moved yourself from the bed by your power. How you always get good grades on math while you only learn for every math test the night before. You extend that night, kid. You hold the future and the past. You just don’t know it yet. And all that clamors? Those are the spells you cast on yourself. You cast it everyday and you don’t know how to do it so your inner self repeated it for you every night. It stops last night because you finally understand how to control it, like what you did just now.”

“What about the whisper?”

“It’s from your previous mother. You don’t remember her, don’t you?” he lies me down and put on my infusions, “Every mortal have previous lifes. The first ones usually attached the most. That whisper was from your first mother. You died in the Battle of Gettysburg 1863. You were running away from the Union and was about to cover yourself when you saw your mother killed by an anonymous bullet. You stroked the biggest power you’ve ever imagine and also died because of it. It was a massive hit and it threw you directly 100 years later when you made your own time machine as a man named Michael Matyszczyk. After your death in 1997, you were born as you. Rufus Affandi. While everyone had 6 or 7 lifes, you’ve only got 3. Lucky for you so I don’t have to explain four more history of your life.”

“So, I assume you’re my first father?”

“I was, kid, but now I’m your mentor. So we will keep it casual cause’ you’ve got your real father buying you breakfast now,” he puts on his spectacles and sits right beside me.

“Okay, Mr.…,” I read his nametag, “Herman Siregar. How come you’re an intern when I’m your son?”

He laughs, “Previous son, kid. I’m 25 years old now and you’re 15. We’re more like brothers.”

As he steps out of the room, I asked him one last question, “What about your power? What’s with the eyes?”

“That, kid,” he says as he closes the door, “is your homework to find out.”

The room starts to be stuffed with silence. I can only hear my own breath and my heart beats. I look out from my room’s window. Doctors, nurses, and people come and go. I tried to concentrate my mind to the window, trying to make people move slower then they were. 30 seconds, 40 seconds, a minute, 5 minutes… Nothing changes.

“He said I’m now capable to control my power. But how?”

Mom and Dad come into the room. They bring some wrappings-which I believe is food. And it is food, delicious nasi rames with some fried chicken. It smells so good and makes my stomach grumbles. Mom opened one and offered to feed me by herself. As I eat my first meal, Dad choked on his own hot tea and burped it all out. My left hand straights towards Dad as I shout a long ‘No’, as an exclamation of Dad’s digested tea falls to my legs.

And it happens.

Time stops. Dad’s tea vomit pauses in the air just a few inches above my legs. Mom’s face showing disgust while holding a spoon of nasi rames. I look over the window and found a nurse who’s in a rush also stops. The clock stops ticking. The blood in my body also stops. I can’t even hear my own heart beat. But I’m alive, and I can move.

I smile at myself, well done, Rufus! Now, you only need to know how to rewind time so Dad doesn't puke on you.

I straighten my left hand and shout, “Go Baaack!”

Nothing happens.

Then, I try all the poses of every fiction character I know. Professor X, Spiderman, Spock, Magneto, Iron Man, Winnie the Pooh, nothing works! How?! How can I rewind time? I spoke to myself again; I stop time accidentally because I don’t want Dad vomiting on me. Why can’t I rewind it? What did I miss? Gesture? I’ve done Winnie the Pooh style! What can go wrong?


I look at the source of the voice. A little girl, probably aged 6 or 7, with a ponytail hair stands in the corner playing on her iPhone. She wears a pink shirt, jeggings, and a rollerblade. Her eyes don’t moves a bit from her iPhone. From the sound, looks like she’s playing Subway Surfers.

She speaks again, “You need a will. A goal, a strong one.”

“And you are?” I took off my infusion and approach her to the corner.

She pause her game and lends her hand, “A reality wrapper, just like you.”

I accept her handshake, “Rufus,” I said, “Lyra.”

“Look, you need to focus on your target. Know what you want. If you’re sure of it, use your power. When using it, you can make some geeky poses you want, like how I do,” she said as she slides and does a triple back flip and dissolves into the thin air.

Immediately, I close my eyes and throw all of my thoughts away. What’s left in mind is just the time when Herman goes out of my room. Slowly, I feel some winds blowing my bangs. I was lifted in the air for a moment and spins in time. One of the clamor flew right through my ear; Me avolare reverterentur.

Slowly, I open my eyes and found myself lying on my bed. The room’s still empty and the door was still shaking as if someone just closed it. I look over the window and saw Herman passes by. I smiled to myself, I’m a reality wrapper.

Exiliens - 1


Run. Run and be safe, my son.

I open my eyes and frown. This dream is starting to make me insane, I told my self so. It's the same dream for months and I'm starting to hate this dream. It was never clear. Only darkness and clamors surrounds it. A few moments later, a pliable whisper of a woman snaps those clamors through silence and wakes me  up violently. Run. Run and be safe, my son.

At first, it frightened me. I rushed to the basement and locked myself in there. That whisper. That horrible whisper. It bothered my nerves off. I was shaking so bad I couldn't even straighten up my body. I was just crouching until my mom yells for breakfast. Hearing her voice makes me calm and suddenly all those fears vanished. I've done this for 4 months and for the past 2 weeks I'm tired of it. Tired of running and shivering from fear. Tired of myself being such a sissy.

I sit and relax myself to the wall behind my bed. The wall’s so cold like ice. When it touches my back, I felt it. Those clamors were back. All those clamors suddenly creak through my ear lobe like a thunder parts the cumulonimbus cloud. It blows my head off. It was like ten thousand people on my room screaming languages I don’t understand right through my ears. Those high pitches tones. Those horrible angers of men. Nothing sounds worst then these clamors. This is the sound of Hell.

I started to squeak on myself. Make it stop. Please make it stop, I beg myself. I roll allover the bed and starting to sing some random tunes. It doesn’t work. It just keeps getting louder and scarier.

Then all of the sudden, that pliable whisper sets the entire room to silence: Run. Run and be safe, my son. It echoes for a moment and disappears.

Liquids starting to fall from my eyes. I shout all my hearts out. I cry on my knees. I am completely being insane right now.

Mom and Dad then bang on my door. She screams my name every 5 seconds. Without hesitating, I unlock the door and then fall off to the ground. Mom and Dad come in and keep calling my name and shakes on my body. I tried to tell them I’m a total mess but my lips won’t move. I’ve just realize, my whole body can’t move. I can’t even blink. I can only hear and see my mom shouting or probably mouthing my name. Slowly, she fades out to small pixels and flew away to the dark.


Run. Run and be safe, my son. And don't you ever come back.

I wake up smiling now. No more clamors. Just that pliable whisper that calms my nerves. Strangely, there are some more words after that whisper: And don't you ever come back. I know it’s a horrible dream but I keep questioning myself, why it stops now? All this time it ruins half of my soul and suddenly it stops. Why?

“Thank God you’re awaken, Rufus. I’m worried sick seeing you faint in my arms like a dead robot! Don’t you ever do that again okay..”

I smiled to Mom, “It’s the dream, Mom. I guess yesterday was the climax. I’m just glad it’s over.”

“It’s over?” she seems surprise, “Well, it’s good for you then. You don’t have any dreams related to that dream again, Rufus?”

I nod, “No more. Just a good sleep.”

“Trust him, Dri. He’s 15 years old. He’s capable of himself. He’s fine. Come on Dri, let’s get some breakfast for us,” dad puts on his sneaky yet trustable smile.

Mom laughed, “I’m just so happy you’re finally healing from that odd dream,” she kissed my forehead and whispers, “And you’re finally not disturbing my morning and save a lot of money from that therapist.”

“Goodbye Mom!” I push her a bit far from myself and giggle a bit.

When Mom and Dad walked out of the room and a doctor came in to check on me, I’m just so relieved. I don’t know why but their existence become pressure for me. It just comes out of nowhere but I recently realized that I don’t trust them anymore. Mom’s voice who always calms me down suddenly makes me feel……prisoned.

“How are you, kid?” asked the doctor who’ve just done checking on my blood pressures.

“I’m confused. What about you, sir?”

He chuckles, “Why are you confused? You seemed happy with your parents back then.”

“I don’t know! I’m just so confused I don’t even know how to act in front of them. They’re just so…weird. What do you think?”

The doctor puts his board on my legs and looks me in the eyes, “I’m thinking that you’re thinking they’re weird because you’re the one whose acting weird while we both know that you’re not weird. So now I’m reading your mind that it’s all because that dream stops but the whisper continues and you’re confused how I can read your mind. How’s that?”

“W-what, h-how you do that? Is it some kind of doctoral stuff?” I choke on my own words as the doctor keeps looking in my eyes.

He stops staring, picks up the board and take off his spectacles, “No, it’s not kid. It’s my superpower. Everyone have one. You have one too.”

“How could you tell?” I asked him while he’s going out of my room.

He glances over his shoulders to me. I can’t see his face clearly that way but when his hazel eyes slowly shifts to black I’m glad he didn’t show me all his face. He answered, "Because I am your father, kid.”

June 12, 2013




It's bit awkward to post and introduction since I made this blog a year ago.
I was at junior high school and maybe I made this blog because I was frustated or something. But now, I kinda miss it.

Currently, 5 of my friends just have blog this week and my reaction was like "Are you guys kidding me? I had that thing 4 years ago?!"

And a few minutes ago I was randomly searching myself and I found this blog, abandoned by myself with only two posts in it.

It hit me hard like a tsunami. I didn't delete all of my blogs?! All this time, the internet keeps this one little secret from me? Was I drunk when I made this blog? Did I have amnesia? What does even phosphene means?!

So I looked it up at the internet and phosphene is the color we see when we close our eyes. I don't know why I wrote that on my blog but it does sounds awesome.

By the way, I've graduated junior high school *yeaaaayy* and now I'm going to be a second grader in 70 senior high school or as known as XI grade or in asab kilab means aud.

Now let me get this straight, this blog is no longer a diary blog like what radityadika did or a mixed up blog like my 2 old blogs long ago. This, I hope, will be a pure a storyblog. I want all my inspiration and imagination written here. Before my first book launch, I want this blog to be the proof of my dignity and un-cowardness. I was a coward deleting my previous 2 blogs. There were so much great stories in it! Why did I delete it?!

Thank you internet, for the second chance.