Eps. 3 – To The Police Station

(Kayshila)

          Today is the fifth day after I was discharged from the hospital. I stayed at Rangga's apartment for these five days because he forbade me to live alone in my apartment. He was worried that I would do something weird again. Suicide is the biggest reason. And today is the day when I, Rangga, and Cath will buy baby equipment. My wrist doesn't hurt that much, even though it's still bandaged. While the gunshot wound also looks fine because the wound is in the stomach. The skin of the abdomen is thick. The pain is still felt, and the stitches seem to be pulling all over the skin area.

          "I just got the info, already know who paid your hospital bills." blurted Rangga told while looking at his cellphone screen.

          "Who?" Me and Cath asked together. Cath looks busy carrying her lunch. Pregnant women are quickly hungry. I just sat on Cath's sofa. Ready to go with them.

          "Davendra. That's a successful entrepreneur. Young. He is famous. Also rude and bastard." Ranga said flatly.

          "Is he looks like who was shot by with Citra?" asked Cath to confirm.

          "Yes." Ranga answered briefly. "The case is not continuing?" Ranga turned to me.

          "No one has contacted me yet." I answered.

          "I called that ironic. Always intending to commit suicide, uh, you're still alive, uh but the bonus is getting shot anyway. So, don't play with life." said Cath from behind the pantry while chewing the snacks she will bring. I pout.

          “Can you find out about the bill at the administration? We'll return the money later." I asked Ranga again.

          "Yeah, I'll take care of it later." Ranga looked at me expectantly. A bit long. His eyes gave as if telling me not to act that harmed me again.

A few days ago at the hospital,

          "What do you want, Citra?" Rangga pulled a chair towards my ward. I sat up straight on the ward bed. My left hand is bandaged, my right hand is infused, my stomach is stitched up. My face is still pale. “How many times have you always bothered Cath to take you to the hospital with the same case? Suicide. And now I just found out you lost blood during the surgery yesterday. What if you really died?"

          Rangga glared. His voice was high. At least I can hear Rangga getting angry. We have been orphans for five years. Mommy and Papi died. Papi helicopter crash while riding in an inter-provincial helicopter. Not long after, Mommy also left us because she was seriously ill from the start. Losing both parents at that time made us both devastated. We can only support each other.

          At first it was very difficult to accept such a fact. Rangga and I were separated. Looking for our own identity. Calm yourself. Rangga went to Australia and I studied in Jakarta while working. My life is hard. So is him. We did not choose to live in our parents' house, because of the memories in it. But we are aware that brothers and sisters must strengthen each other. When Rangga returned from Australia a year later, he took Cath with him.

          Rangga initially did not like Edric. He's a bad influence. I like clubbing, coming home late, and smoking. I often fight with Rangga just because of Edric's problem. I keep Edric. Until finally I started living alone without Rangga. My life is happy with Edric. My career is also good. But there is something strange. Edric always disliked the things I liked. From my friends, from my hobbies, from my habits. All things about me, Edric must not like. He totally changed me with his habits. Because I love him. I am willing to change my habits.

          "Are you still in love with that bastard?" Rangga's tone is still rising. I saw Kim tensed. My eyes are fixed on him. Signaling to stop Rangga. He sat across from me when I was in the hospital. In front of my ward. "Isn't there anything else you can think about other than thinking about that bastard?" continued Ranga.

          My palms started to sweat.

          "Don't you remember what he did to you, Citra?" This time Rangga lowered his voice, as well as opened a bad memory about Edric.

          Edric changed my life. All my life is controlled by him. What I want to do is always restrained by Edric. In addition, cheated on many times. Edric was violent towards me. Many times. My body is crushed. When I had given up and was willing to let Edric go, I reported him to the police on a report of abuse. Edric was freed easily and he was ordered by his parents to move to the Netherlands. Before he went to Holland, he said he would never let me go.

          Even if I run anywhere, I'll still be found by Edric.

          When Edric actually went to Holland, I found out that he was marrying the woman he was pregnant with. End of story. At that time, my heart broke. I hoped that when Edric came home from Holland he had changed but he married a woman who was carrying his child.

          “Citra? Do you have any good answers to all my questions?” Ranga still made his voice. Turns out he was waiting for me to answer. "Oh okay. Means I think this is your last act to kill yourself. Be grateful every time you kill yourself, you are always safe. Still alive."

          Cath nodded in agreement.

          "Rangga, I'm sorry. Cath… I'm so sorry." I burst into tears. I got short of breath. I hit my chest indicating I was wrong. I blame myself. Until my cries were heard from inside and some of the nurses came into my room to see what was going on.

          **Now**

          There are probably almost two large trolleys of baby gear. Complete with a baby stroller. Rangga and Cath decided to call an online taxi to transport the rest of the goods. And I was in the online cab. My feet feel sore. The scar on my stomach also feels squishy. While Cath may still want to go to several places to buy equipment that he thinks suits his taste. As I sat down and took a deep breath in the online taxi, my cell phone rang.

          "Hello."

          "Afternoon, with Mrs. Kayshila? I am the policeman we met at the hospital the other day."

          "Oh yes yes. What's the matter, sir?"

          "Someone wants to talk to…"

          "Hello. Sorry, I'm Anton, Mr. Davendra's lawyer. Can you come to the West Jakarta police station now?" I stared.

          "Oh yes, sir. Maybe I'm coming night. I can't now."

          I'm in a traffic jam right now. I haven't loaded all the stuff in this car up to the apartment yet. It took about 2 hours to get to the apartment and finish these things, and it took almost 2 hours to get to the police station. Approximately arrived at the police station at 20.00.

          "Shall I wait here or will I pick you up?

          "Just you wait, sir there."

          "Well. Thank you because this is very urgent." he said.

          I started to feel bad when the lawyer hung up on me.

          When I arrived at the police station, it turned out that I was 30 minutes late from my estimated time. Rangga took me to the police station. His face looks tired, so do I. Outside the police station, many reporters were waiting. When Rangga and I strolled towards the building and the room in question, all the reporters rushed at me.

          "Miss. Wait Ma'am! Do you want to meet Daven?"

          "Miss! Do you want to meet Daven? Ma'am, are you Daven’s girlfriend?"

          A variety of typical journalists approached me. I can't describe their faces because it's dark. But a few minutes, when I managed to make my way through the crowd of reporters, spotlights were flashing brightly. My eyes are blind, then Rangga pulled me quickly into the building. It showed a man approached us. His fifties, thick moustache, and has a stern face inside the building. He introduced himself as Mr Anton, a lawyer from Davendra. He ushered me into a rather large room and smelled of cigarettes.

          All eyes were on me. Look at me from head to toe—many times.

          "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Kayshila my fiancée."

          Rangga whispered to me.

          "Fiancé?!!"

          That's right. It is the meaning of my terrible feeling this afternoon.

***