<<<Read the previous chapter, 3B
— 14 Years Later —
It was midnight and i was at Jakarta Theatre watching a really cool movie; Lord of The Rings, recommended by all movie maniacs. And first thing comes in my mind after i finished watching that movie was : turns out there’s another person out there, who has the same exact fantasy about magic ring; like the one in the LOTR movie, besides me.
I too, had written the magical ring like the one that J.R.R. Tolkien writes. My story may not be too terrific as LOTR although my ‘Golden Ring’ novel was more magical. But it does share a little bit of a its tale and its capability, only the ring was the main subject in my story, not the fellowship.
Oh well, i can’t prove anything. Just like what my cousin said after the next day i watch that movie. “Too bad you threw away all of it”. Too bad indeed.
She also said “Not only Lord of the rings. Remember ‘The Others’ movie?”. She implied.
“The one with Nicole Kidman play is it?” I didn’t expect she would remember bunch of short novels i’ve made years ago.
“You notice? I wrote a similar story line like that in Pearce and Shelley isn’t it?” she nodded.
Not to mention my other story ‘It Was Beethoven’ also made into a movie in France, the title is ‘The Piano Teacher’, although they use Schubert and Schumann instead of Beethoven. But of course in my story i didn’t write the XXX factor like that typical France movie did. Even Disney made a movie that has almost the same with the story line that i wrote in ‘Leather Book’, but i can’t find the title of the movie since Disney has gazillion movies.
Either way, my cousin; Curly, who has the same age as me, was the only person who appreciate my short novel which i wrote when i was in third grade.
If only i had not threw all the novels that i made…
— Back in Year 1990 – Third Grade —
Couple of months after studying in class 3B, i feel that students in this class are way too arrogant. They like to show off their limited collectibles and they even mention about their father’s cool job’s position. Some friends that i won’t forget in that class was they really proud because school allowed their parents to park their cars inside the building, while the rests are only allowed parked their cars outside. These bunch of rich kids called themselves the specials.
Not only spent my days as an outsider, introvert and passive kid. I think that day the sky was a little bit dark and so with my mood. Not only had i received a bad score on my history test, i also have to face the school principal at his office because of what i did in my classroom just now; bang my friend’s head with a small chair.
“So, not only your sister in junior high fight with boys, and you too?”. He mocked me like i’m an ‘un-educated little kid and it runs from the family’ sort of way.
“He hit my face with his shoe first!” I yelled at Mr. Principal “But you didn’t bring him here didn’t you! you blaming me instead of him!” I yelled at him again.
“It’s just a game dear” Ms. Sisi snatch my lines when she came inside the principal office with a blue folder in her hand.
“Yeah sure! It’s just a game. He cheated on everyone. He let his girlfriend wins all the time while everybody just play along like a fool!” So angry I folded my hand so tight.
“That’s impossible, he’s the head of the class. And there is no such thing as girlfriend-boyfriend in here. Right?” Ms. Sisi smiled and looked at the principal who is still looking down reading some paper inside the blue folder. Looks like she’s looking for an agreement with that last statement.
“Up to you then, if you say kissing in the bathroom is not a boyfriend-girlfriend stuff”. I refused to look at their face and look straight to the left.
There is this maroon curtain hanging on its side window of the principal office. And I can see him; the head class of 3B, the one that i bump his head with a small chair. He laughed at me happily thinking i might be in trouble. Well, guess again. His parents came because Mr. Principal called them, and so with his girlfriend’s parents. On the other hand, my parents did not come. The next day i know is that Ms. Sisi and Mr. Principal man moved me to another class; 3C. Maybe because i threaten to kill him with a cutter right after i hit him.
I never been removed to another class after 3C. Maybe because i’m very well fit in that class. Turns out students in 3C was all creative. Most of them are talented in painting, music and dancing. 3C won many trophies at the competitions, even i become the leader of the band at the end of the tri-semester. And after i graduated from 3C i become the leader of the band for whole third graders.
Since then, my concentration was only to music.
— 10 Years After Third Grade —
I was at the last part of Psychology test into University. There was six of us sitting grouping like a circle in a small hall near Campus auditorium, while i sat closest to the door . We sat on our chair and waiting for the instructor gave us the test. The test was a conversation, debate sort of like.
30 Minutes past already and the instructor gave me a credit for good answers for his questions. “Really good answer for a person who scratch 3 times for its hobby on the hobby column” He said while showing my previous test score. It was a form full of column with questions and answers which is written by my own handwriting, taken from the 1st part of the test that day.
“Sorry? i didn’t quite get it sir…”.
“You scratch your hobby for 3 times in this column” he handed me the form that i filled in the early hours. “What have you wrote there? and why did you scratch it?”. He smiled nicely after i look at him for a second or two.
I look bumbling that moment, especially when i notice my opponent with her stylish eyeglasses looking at me; pulling a disliking face. And all i can think of is what should i answer? what should i do? what should i tell him?
“It was writing sir” i smiled awkwardly and look away past his shoulder refused to look at him right in the eye.
“I wrote ‘writing’ as a hobby and I scratch it because… … … I think i don’t like it”. Still looking far away past his shoulder. I even could see the scribbles on the white board which nailed to the very far of the room.
“You think? why wrote three times and scratch it if you think you don’t LIKE IT?” He raised his voice at the end of his lines. And he smiled at me again.
His question stick to my head for a very very long time. It really sticky i can’t even replace it; love writing, with another hobby. Time passes by and i didn’t take Psychology as my major at the end of my decision. But i did change my mind about writing again. Because of that moment, i realize… I do love writing.
Finally for almost 10 years never writing story and such, i try to dream again. I try to fantasize about world where people might not want to understand. I try to write and make stories although i never put it anywhere public.
I’ll write again and again and again and again… and again.
~~ THE END ~~
Million thanks to whomever made blogging platform in this online world. The reason why i made “Last Hours Before Dawn” was to remind me how memorable was in year 2000, i spent thousand hours writing stories between 1.00 to 3.00 am early in the morning.
Let’s write stuff, be a citizen journalist, file reports from cool to nerd events.