Ripped Ashes

Dina Juwita/180410140036

Summary: Who knows if a blue-haired girl ripped someone apart and flew away a blue-ocean dream to the ground.

The fact that she was born from a Sundanese father and a Javanese mother explains all well. She could be the evidence of what people who believe in myth called “the curse” of breaking the tradition. Her parent give her a good name, Aravis Bitaria, but I think her attitude is not as good as her name. When I know her background, I understand why she did that to me, why she ripped me apart in bizarre ways.

These last few days, I saw every moves of her in a form that my hands can catch up the wind. That first day, I saw her when she went to a garage sale which full of antique furniture which she loves very much—I can tell you she loves it very much for her bedroom is full of stuff like that. I sat on the table near several urns when she came. She brought a lot of furniture, from old wooden box with bird-carving on it, a dress which look like just arrived from another era, a miniature of Eilan Donan Castle made in rock, several bronze bracelets that looks like the crown, an old urn where I rested every piece of me, and other furniture that look like trash instead of aesthetic furniture.

The first time she bought those to home, her father, who is an interior designer, got his eyes bigger than before when he looked at those trashy furniture. He said that she had better make her own furniture instead of buying trashy furniture that cost a lot of money. She didn’t bother what her father said. She was as calm as lake’s water. She said “Okay” to her father with her wide smile and then went to her room with a big box with her ‘new’ furniture and stuffs in it. Her father just touched his head, frustrated of what her daughter did. Her mother, on the other way, excited of what kind of furniture which she brought home. She came to her, helped her daughter bring that big box to her bedroom which look like a room from another dimension.

Her blue hair was tied when she unpacked her big box. She brought one by one out and kept those on the floor. Her mother was checking every single of it and gave Aravis her thought about those furniture and stuffs that Aravis called aesthetic, beautiful, and classic. Aravis looks like a child who listened to fairy tales. Her black eyes turn into the sky which full of stars. I think I saw bling-bling there. Her mother told Aravis what’s in her mind about those stuffs. Their quality, aesthetic value, and even myths and stories behind it. I don’t know if there’s a myth or a story of every furniture in this world. It looks like a stupid thing but I have to admit that her mother told her beautiful stories in a great way.

After they discussed the myth and story, their attention went to an urn. Aravis said that she loves that urn for it is simple and beautiful at the same time. Her mother told her what the carving on the urn means and told her that kind of urn usually use for human’s ashes place. Aravis told her mother that there’s something inside it but she didn’t have sufficient time to check what’s in it before. Her mother’s eyes widened in shock. I guess someone like her is smart enough to know what’s in it, different from her dull daughter.

They found ashes, of course. Aravis show her a widest smile on earth. She looked like a child who found a new toy, a new charming toy.

“Mom, you’re right. What should we do, then?” Aravis asked her mother, her smile was like the gate that connects two island.

“Give it back, darling.” Her mother gave her the best idea ever, but Aravis, a strange human whose composition I can’t guess, refuse her mother’s good suggestion.

“No way. What if I don’t want to give this back, mom?” Aravis asked her mother with her annoying sweet voice.

“Hmm… How poor the ashes is to be found by you, darling.” Her mother got it right.

“I have a good idea, mom. Ehehe.” Again, that gate smile cover her face from side to side.

And I told you with all my heart that a good idea that she mentioned is not a good idea at all. I bet she doesn’t know what the definition of good idea is for everything that she did with those ashes is something normal people called crazy and abnormal. And I can’t stand to believe that she’s human.

For the next day, she brought any ashes to her school. She deliberately followed her annoying friends, people she hates very much, to cafetaria. She took a table which is not far from her friends’s table so that she can hear what her friends order. And after she made sure she heard their order correctly and then she sneaked to the kitchen and added ashes to their drink. As she did that, I saw my hand gone with the wind.

At home, she wasted those ashes in other ways. I can’t help but frustrated. She didn’t know how to treat dead people like me. I wonder what will happen to her if she’s gone. Maybe she’ll get the curse because she treated dead people that way. It looks funny a form of curse is being cursed.

She made the rain in her backyard, with my ashes. I can predict what’s in her mind. Perhaps she thought ashes can nourish the ground and make it fertile. She looked excited, like ashes can make flower grow from the ground abundantly. As the ashes touch the ground, I saw my feet turning transparent and unite with the air. All that left in me is my body and my head, flying like the kite, still join in Aravis’ game of using dead people’s ashes in a good way.

Like a scientist, Aravis never enough of once or twice, a couple hours after making the rain in her backyard, she use my ashes to wash the dishes. I don’t know what abu gosok is, but she mentioned that my ashes similar to it and then she went to the kitchen, pour my ashes with the soap and wash the dishes. Again, for the third time, I lose my body. This time, only my head which still here.

The next day, I lay my head on Aravis’ green grass backyard, watched her little family went to a picnic below the blue sky. The weather was extremely nice that day, but I could tell you Aravis’ mother turned it all into the black sky with lightning and storm dancing together.

“Darling, about the ashes, I heard that it can be a diamond and something expensive.” Aravis’ mother started her spell, so that everything turned bad.

“Really? Oh no! I wasted it yesterday!” Aravis panicked and look so disappointed, “I use the ashes for a good revenge and to make our ground fertile… Oh and to wash the dishes! If I can be patient just one day, I could turn it into a diamond and get a lot of money and I can use the money to go to Scotland.”

“What ashes, Aravis?” her father ask curiously. I bet he regretted his question.

“Someone’s ashes, dad. Mom and I found it in an urn I bought.”

“Someone’s… ashes?” His eyes widened in shock. I guess he didn’t forget what Aravis said before about using it to wash the dishes for she ran to his house with his hand covered his mouth. I thought he would puked, or something like that. I don’t know why he can stand to live with his crazy daughter. Aravis’ father looks so normal while Aravis is otherwise.

In the end, I decided to lay in Aravis’ grass forever for Aravis has thrown my dream forever, to become one with the sea. It is only my head that left. Perhaps Aravis didn’t do anything anymore wih my ashes so that I still have my head here. I’m grateful for that but heat-broken to know I didn’t drown in the sea. Like a line of Cumming’s poem, for whatever we lose; like a you or a me, it’s always ourselves we find in the sea, I want to be in the sea when my body and my soul said goodbye, when I lost me. I want to drown myself in the beautiful blue ocean, in peace. But all I’ve got is my head and this green grass. What a pity, but never mind. I’ll haunted Aravis forever in her backyard for losing my dream, and for all of my ashes that she wasted.

Reference(s):

– – maggie and milly and molly and may by E.E. Cummings

– – Hange Zoe and Sasha Braus, character from Shingeki no Kyojin by Hajime Isayama

– – Aravis Tarkheena, character’s name from Narnia: The Horse and His Boy

Word count: 1467 words

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s