An English Lit Student's Story (Belajar Apa di Sastra Inggris?)

I'd never imagined once that I would end up being in a Literature major. My father and I always made a plan on medical studies or law as the second option (as my father was a policeman that he suggested me to go to law school eventho I always refused it)... Eventually, I went to medical school for two semesters, and decided to quit due to some personal reasons. In the end, in 2014, I entered English Literature Department.

Most of people kalau udah dengar kata Sastra Inggris pasti yang terlintas di benak mereka pasti ujungnya jadi guru Bahasa Inggris. But, I will tell you that Sastra Inggris dan Pendidikan Bahasa Inggris itu is a completely different major. Apa yang dipelajarin di Sastra Inggris kebanyakan gak dipelajarin di Pendidikan Bahasa Inggris dan begitu juga sebaliknya.

English Literature is more likely to learn culture and society meskipun disini juga dipelajarin linguistics in terms of English. When I chose English Lit, what in my mind was, yah kita bakalan belajar grammar atau berbagai macam teks in order to be able to write and communicate well in English. It never crossed in my mind at all that the lessons would mainly about budaya, sejarah, teori kehidupan, filsafat dsb. 

Awal semester dulu rasanya masih damai dan sejahtera karena semuanya masih dasar. Kadang malah suka seneng sendiri karena tugas sedikit and were too easy to finish. Setahun di FK dengan segudang tugas, hapalan, dan praktikum made me a little bit surprised sama tahun pertama di English Lit department. Di Eng Lit kalau udah pulang kuliah yah gak ada beban, gak perlu mikirin hapalan, jurnal, logbook, apalagi praktikum. Pokoknya tahun pertama serba santai...

Sampai akhirnya masuk semester III dan here the hectic begins. English Literature is not as easy as I ever imagined. Mata kuliahnya udah aneh-aneh dan gak bakalan ada sangkut pautnya sama mata pelajaran pas SMA (mungkin karena SMA-nya di Indonesia)... Sejarah bangsa Inggris mulai diperkenalkan berikut para Raja/Ratu-nya dan kisah sejarah mereka which is more like a fairy tale than a history dari zaman dulu sampai zaman sekarang. Belum lagi hal-hal linguistik seperti fonologi dkk yang kalau dipikir-pikir agak kurang kerjaan. Tapi yah namanya juga ilmu...

Ada juga mata kuliah yang dosennya kerjaannya cerita tentang sejarah dunia beserta filsafat akan hidup ini. Kemudian, poems, drama, short story, dan novels pun diperkenalkan... We're quite familiar with tokoh-tokoh seperti Hemingway, Shakespeare, Hardy, Dickens, Bronte, Browning dkk yang hidup di masa lampau. You'll be asked to read poems, plays, short stories, or novels in order to finish your weekly essays.

Essai-nya bukan resensi dari bacaan-bacaan itu, sama sekali bukan :(

You'll be asked to take one aspects based on your readings, internal or external. Misalnya bahas short story karya Hemingway yang The Old Man and the Sea dari segi symbols yang terdapat di dalam karya tsb. Simbol-simbol dalam karya itu maksudnya apa, dan kenapa dia buat kayak gitu...

Ada juga ketika membahas the old and famous literary work yang dimiliki Inggris judulnya Beowulf. Teks Beowulf doesn't use English that you know nowadays, teksnya pake Old English yang completely different with modern english. So, my lecturer gave us the copy of Beowulf yg harus diterjemahkan lebih dulu ke English modern (you can imagine how frustrated). Shakespeare juga gitu, naskah Romeo and Juliet yang dipelajarin ditulis dalam dua model bahasa Inggris. Mid English and modern English...

Talk about Shakespeare, mungkin in your mind kita bakalan berperan dalam drama gitu trus ditampilkan di depan. Sayangnya tidak seseru itu... Salah satu karya Shakespeare yang kami bahas pastinya the famous Romeo and Juliet. You read the script, and you take one problem represented in this work. Waktu itu aku ambil judul tentang reckless-nya sikap remaja dalam hal percintaan. So, I made my paper talking about that dan harus ditunjukkan kenapa Romeo and Juliet ada hubungannya sama hal tsb. Kalau sering baca cliffnote atau sparksnote, you'll understand what I mean...

Semakin tinggi semesternya, semakin complicated. I found out myself being so devastated kalau udah midterm weeks dan pas UAS. Emang sih kebanyakan ujiannya take home assignment, dan ke kampus pas UTS dan UAS cuman buat ngumpulin tugas dan ttd absen. But, tugasnya itu gak semudah yang dipikirkan dan gak bakal mungkin buat copy-paste. You have to read the novels given, find out the problems in order to write your own essays. Mostly sih tentang problematika hidup yang digambarkan karakternya. Contohnya kayak materialism, feminist, existence of God, sosio-kultural, discrimination, cross-cultural, dll lah.. Thus, gak bakalan cukup baca novelnya aja kalau gak baca sejarah penulisnya atau kejadian di tahun ybs.

Itu tadi soal mata kuliah sastra-nya, kalau linguistik beda lagi. Linguistik masuk kategori ilmu pasti dan beberapa bahkan ada rumusnya :') Pembahasannya itu menganalisis dari hal terkecil bahasa yaitu sound (phonology) sampe hal kompleks seperti discourse analysis.. Ada juga tentang how you acquire language, atau the relations between language and your mind alias Psycholinguistics. You'll learn why only human can acquire language, how you acquire it, dll which are so complicated but cool. Yeah, science is cool... 

Oh, and about grammar. In English Literature you'll find out two different types of grammar. Present Tense dkk itu dianggap udh dikuasain dan you'll be introduced to the great complication called SFL (Systemic Functional Grammar). This is so frustrating dan sampe sekarang I still don't get it why Halliday nyiptain teori SFL-nya itu (eventho my discourse analysis lecturer mati-matian belain si Halliday dan SFL-nya) XD

The point is, in English Literature juga you will learn mostly about life. You will learn how complicated this world is and how you should behave. How great human is and how our mind is a complete universe. And, yang terpenting adalah kenyataan bahwa segala aspek ilmu itu gak ada yang sepele. Mungkin mostly people think, entar ambil sastra mau kerja jadi apa? Atau, oh sastra gak ada apa-apanya lah dibandingkan kedokteran... Nope. I've been in medical school and now I'm in literature. Setiap ilmu berbeda dan berharga, gak ada yang useless. You can't define a person or judge a person's future berdasarkan ilmu yang didalaminya. Masalah pekerjaan itu tergantung sama keseriusan kita dalam mempelajari dan memperjuangkan sesuatu. Lagipula, Allah yang mengatur segalanya, bukan jurusan kuliah..

So, love yourself and be thankful on where you're now. It's not your major that defines you as a person, it's your attitudes towards people. Jangan sepele akan ilmu apapun because you know nothing. Hanya Allah Yang Maha tahu.

Cheers!! LACxx

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He Knows Nothing About the Girl

She doesn't sure where the howling storm that could only be felt by her takes place. Inside her heart or her head. But she is completely sure that everything upon the earth is fighting against her. The people, the things, the weather...

She knows she can always cope it, until one day came. The day when she has to make a tough decision. She asks herself again, "What is this?"

Does he know what she's been trough these last ten years?

Does he know that she's put out all the stops just in order to wash him away a few years ago?

Does he know why she's always been afraid to reveal or ask everything? She never demands the answer because she's afraid that if she knew the truth, she would be in grief. A complete grief.

He knows nothing that she's never missed only one day without wondering him in silence for these last ten years. She knows even if she told him, he would never believe her in a sec.

He knows nothing that it was completely burdensome for her to mere come to see him again after almost seven years. She needed to destroy the bricks that she had built to protect her heart.

He knows nothing that it was even tougher to come again to see him in an-under-sun graduation for her because the last goodbye almost couldn't be coped. She turned around more than three times under that rain, as many as she almost ran again to him.

He knows nothing that it was almost becoming an unjustified decision for her to step into his side again when he lost his mother. Death is petrified for her. The death and his tears were even too painful for her to cope, but she stayed.

He knows nothing that the girl had to experience pretty much difficult weeks as the aftermath events from coming to him again. How memory of the funeral and the tears streamed down on his cheeks put her into an odd pain.

He knows nothing that she always asks The God to help him. She thinks that she'll be fine if he's fine.

He knows nothing that the girl has to wake up and face the pain motion which directly attacks. As the aftermath of his cruel intentions.

He knows nothing. 

But the girl knows one thing; Everything that she believes about him is a mere dream.

~~~

LACx

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Materialism (Materialisme)

Out of the blue, tiba-tiba aja ingin bercerita tentang topik ini.

Materialisme adalah sebuah paham yang muncul dari adanya globalisasi yang menjadikan materi (benda) sebagai titik tolak segala hal. If you check your KBBI (KBBI: materialisme), materialisme sendiri berarti pandangan hidup yang mencari dasar segala sesuatu yang termasuk kehidupan manusia di dalam alam kebendaan semata-mata dengan mengesampingkan segala sesuatu yang mengatasi alam indera.

Then, why do I write about this one? Well, ini karena, as you can see around us, materialisme benar-benar telah menjadi dewa di society sekarang-sekarang ini. Materialisme menciptakan sebuah standar yang sebenarnya itu gak akan ada habisnya kalau mau diikutin terus. My lecturer pernah bahas tentang ini di salah satu mata kuliah dan lecture dari beliau itu benar-benar tepat sasaran dengan fenomena yang ada sekarang. Meski sebenarnya materialisme bukannya muncul di era milenial saja melainkan sudah ada sejak zaman dulu. Namun sepertinya efeknya kian menjadi-jadi karena the existence of media social.

Orang-orang kebanyakan gak sadar kalau mereka itu penjunjung dari materialisme. Pertama-tama coba lihat di media sosial, bagaimana the users hanya menampilkan sisi materi mereka saja. Barang-barang branded, hang out in the posh cafes, liburan di tempat-tempat yang lagi jadi trend, belum lagi pamerin kendaraan atau gadget mewah yang tampaknya menjadi hal biasa saja sekarang. Namun, tanpa disadari, sebuah standar kemudian terbentuk. Standar seperti apa? Standar hidup mewah, semewah-mewahnya. Kemudian sebuah perspektif dalam menilai sesuatu pun mulai berubah, termasuk menilai manusia.

Empati yang didasari oleh kemanusiaan perlahan-lahan bergeser lagi-lagi karena materialisme. Ketika seseorang melihat orang lain hanya dari penampilan mereka. Dari apa yang mereka pakai, apakah mahal atau tidak, apakah ponselnya bagus atau tidak, apakah tempat hang-out nya posh atau tidak, apakah kendaraan yang dipakainya mewah atau tidak, beroda dua, empat, atau tidak beroda sama sekali? And so on...

Kita akan menemukan orang-orang yang standarnya dinilai memenuhi, literally punya segala hal mewah di kehidupannya, akan sangat mudah diterima di society dan lebih dihargai. Lalu bagaimana dengan orang-orang yang dinilai hidup di bawah standar? Entahlah, tampaknya mereka tiba-tiba saja menjadi invisible dan kurang dihargai di society. Bukan hal baru ketika kau melihat orang-orang memberi sambutan mewah kepada orang bermobil mewah dan berpakaian mahal. Pintu gerbang dibuka lebar-lebar, dan kalimat-kalimat manis pun berhamburan untuk mereka seolah mereka adalah their saviour. Namun apa yang terjadi dengan orang yang tidak memiliki semua itu? Tentu saja mereka akan dianggap hina dan tidak penting sama sekali. Tidak ada orang yang mau berbasa-basi menerima dengan tangan terbuka orang-orang seperti itu.

Pada akhirnya, kelas-kelas sosial pun timbul. Bukan hanya di kalangan orang dewasa yang udah punya pekerjaan to make a living, fenomena materialisme ini juga sudah merambat di kalangan anak muda khususnya remaja. Mereka yang tidak memakai sepatu bermerek atau ponsel apel merasa minder berada di tengah-tengah komunitas sekolahnya. Bahkan lebih parahnya lagi, mereka yang tidak memiliki kendaraan sendiri untuk dipakai ke sekolah cenderung merasa malu. Hal ini bukan tanpa sebab, karena tentu saja orang-orang di sekitar mereka menuntut sebuah standar yang sebenarnya tidak jelas standarnya itu seperti apa dan sejauh mana.

You have to think that, kalau materi yang terus-terusan menjadi patokan kita untuk menilai segala aspek kehidupan, arti dari hidup itu sendiri perlahan-lahan akan hilang. Padahal hidup itu sendiri sebenarnya sudah sangat berharga. Pemberian Tuhan Yang Maha Kuasa yang bahkan tidak satupun makhluk bisa memberikannya. Namun semakin lama hidup semakin memiliki harga di dunia ini. Lama-kelamaan orang-orang menilai berharganya hidup seseorang hanya dari harga-harga materi yang melekat di tubuhnya. Mereka tidak lagi merasa orang-orang yang kelaparan di luar sana, yang homeless, uneducated, dan mungkin kotor juga memiliki nilai yang sangat berharga karena mereka juga hidup. 

Begitu berharganya hidup ini sampai tidak ada satu materi-pun di muka bumi ini yang sebanding dengan harganya. Hargailah hidup ini. Jangan biarkan materi menjadi standar harga hidup ini sendiri. Jangan biarkan materi menjadi hal yang terus dikejar-kejar demi memperoleh pengakuan manusia. Do you know sampai kemana standar manusia itu akan berakhir? Di atas langit juga masih ada langit. Kita gak akan dihukum kok sama Yang Punya Hidup kalau gak bisa liburan di hotel-hotel mewah, beli gadget-gadget mahal, atau gabung-gabung sama kalangan high society. 

Just love your life and be thankful for what you have now. Remember kalau semua ini hanya titipan. Materi itu adalah bagian dari tipu daya dunia ini sendiri. Kalau kita bisa afford misalnya Iphone 5, yah bersyukurlah, bukannya malah minder karena teman-teman udah bisa afford Iphone 7. Kalau kita pergi ke kampus cuman pake motor matic, bersyukurlah, jangan minder cuman karena teman-teman kita udah pake mobil...

Kembali lagi ke dunia social media. We all know kalau social media sekarang yang menciptakan standar bagi kehidupan manusia. Seolah-olah kita itu gak keren kalau gak pernah nampilin foto berupa barang-barang branded, makan di restoran-restoran mewah, belanja di mall yang paling mahal, liburan di hotel-hotel berbintang, atau yang paling sering dijumpain adalah ngumpul bareng temen-temen kaya. For what? Semua orang kemudian berusaha menampilkan hal-hal semacam itu demi memperbanyak followers, likes, comments, dan penilaian yang lebih tinggi dari orang-orang. Tanpa disadari, lagi-lagi materi yang menjadi titik penilaian semua orang. Lalu, materi yang seperti apa yang paling memenuhi standar di dunia ini? Tentu tidak ada yang tahu.

Kalau memang benar materi itu yang menjadi tolak ukur kebahagiaan dan adanya pengakuan dari semua orang, lalu kenapa masih saja banyak orang-orang kaya yang kalau dipikir-pikir memiliki segalanya malah commit suicide atau move to the drugs? Try to think about that...

So, here, I just want to remind anyone who read this not to be deceived or deluded by the materialism stuffs and its standards which is made by the people themselves. There is no such a standard. Bukan materi tujuan kita diberikan hidup di dunia ini. Bukan materi yang menilai berharganya tidak hidup kita ini. Bukan materi yang menjadi tolak ukur kita untuk berhubungan dengan sesama manusia. Hargailah bagaimanapun hidupmu dan hidup orang lain. Remember who we are and what we are doing here. Hanya Allah yang pantas memberi penilaian akan hidupmu, bukan manusia apalagi berdasarkan materi...

LACxxx

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How Do I Love Thee by Elizabeth Browning (1806-1861)

How Do I Love Thee

How do I Love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

I my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

.

.

.

personal note:

My lecturer introduced us this poem and I immediately fell in love with the lines. The story behind Elizabeth wrote this poem was even way more beautiful as my lecturer had explained. Elizabeth dedicated it to her beloved husband, Robert Browning. Don't you think that this is the ideal explanations of love to someone? Maybe you can type on google to find out the analysis of the poem if you wish to reveal more. Poem talks more story than the lines^^

LACxxx

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It was June 27

It was June 27 2017. The year once I thought was my best year in these past three years. But that day wasn't a really great day as I've expected. On the evening of 26th, I received a bad news that I'd never given thought would possibly happen. His mother passed away...

I was about doing my translation task in front of the computer when one of the friend of ours informed me the news. Then I found my hands were trembling and I couldn't even eat my dinner. All I wanted to do was being on his side as soon as possible, even it was nearly impossible for me. I had to leave my homework unfinished and started to just stay on my bed as I felt an agony, let myself being consumed by the odd pain inside my chest. I didn't know why but I was completely fucked up as if I were the one who lost a mother. So many voices talked in my head, mostly argued about the fact that the news didn't come from himself but from our friend. Thus, I thought, he never wanted my presence at all. But I really wanted to come to convince him that I would be there no matter what, although I was also afraid of being rejected by him since I wasn't invited. I considered myself as an unimportant outsider for him who put out all the stops to hover around.

But in the end, like I always did before, I decided to just come to see him. I went to his house with a friend who informed me the news after spending a long night without getting a proper sleep. I had even waken up earlier than my own alarm. Worst, I nearly threw up in order to force myself finishing my breakfast. Completely fucked up!

Then I met him again. The person whose name is always mentioned in my prayers. His smiling face has always popped up in my smartphone, and the memory of his bright smiles has always haunted my mind. But that day was completely different. It wasn't a day I ever wish or think to come. It was another unexpected nightmare for me. He walked out of a door. He wore white clothes with white trousers and bare-footed. His face was very pale that for a second I thought he was a ghost, his black hair was a complete mess, and his expression was too painful for me to be seen. I didn't find the lights I used to see in his black little eyes. All that I could see was his pain that I turned my face to stare at my toes. I couldn't even manage a good conversation when he asked me about some things. I was just sitting there on the floor, hugging me knees, sometimes letting myself to see his face before turning my face again away from him. It was too difficult for me. He reminded me of my old pain of my father's death. Worst because that pain is combined with his.

That nightmare was getting clearer when I finally let myself to see his tears streaming down his face. I heard him talking about his lovely mother with a painful voice, or heard him praying for his first love ever on this earth, and watched him kissing his mother over and over as if he couldn't let her go. I had never planned for seeing those kind of scenes. Ever.

There was a huge lump in my throat that made me realise that I had no strength to say another goodbye. But I was positive that I had to leave. Of course I had to leave. What else I should do?

Under a too shining sun, I walked besides him after putting his mother to her resting place. "Don't cry anymore," I told him. I kept my voice as low as I could because I was afraid I could cry again. I looked into him, but immediately turned to my shoes as it was too difficult for me seeing his shining tears on his red cheeks. His eyes were almost sunk. But he still (always) managed a smile for me.

"I can't," he answered with a soft voice. And my world kept turning into pieces over and over again that day. 

I don't know anything about the God's faith for both of us, neither do I know his feelings towards me. All I know is my own feelings and what I always ask from God. But I never imagined that the world of mine can also turn into pieces just because I'm watching a person standing helplessly as his own world is turning into pieces in front of his eyes. But neither of us can do anything.

It's been a month. I had done a few stuffs in order to have a contact with him again, but never turned out well. He still refused to let me in. And I think I'm too tired to keep on trying. I just hope that maybe my prayers sometimes will arrive in his heart.

p.s: I wish I could do something to erase your pain. I wish I could give your happiness back. I wish you could let me cheer you up again. You know I would give anything upon this earth just for that. But those are helpless. Not because I don't want to, I just can't.

Lxxx

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Three Hours for the Ghost (Final)

But William didn't come in the morning, or the next morning, until more than a week. I almost gave up on waiting him to come up in my bedroom. Maybe he had done thinking about the revenge that he could leave this world in peace. But why didn't he say anything to me?  We were in the middle of a conversation about those bloody blokes and ball. He asked me to stay but I refused. He would have usually forced me to believe his words and argue with me. That night was completely extraordinary, he just left instead of arguing with me.

My father had just received a rare call that asked him to see an emergency patient in a hospital. He immediately rushed to the hospital with excitement after asking us to sleep. I experienced a difficult time to sleep these recent days because of William. I could have just texted or called his phone if he were a living human. An ancient ghost definitely couldn't use any technologies.

So I just grabbed my winter coat and scarf to stroll outside the house. The winter in this place was so much worse than winter in London. The temperature was terrible but I needed some fresh air to clear my mind out of William. It was so wrong to wait a ghost. But this place was too quiet and dull without William's babbles. I could even hear the sound of the freezing wind that messed on my dark hair, and my noisy steps on the snow.

"Are you really going to heaven, Will?" I talked alone. Ethan wouldn't ever hear me from his bedroom upstairs. "Could you wait until my graduation? It's too quiet and dull without you." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I tried to remember his pale face with a pair of deep blue eyes, thick auburn hair, ice-colded skin, and his soft laugh. I had never missed a day without regretting the truth that he wasn't a human at all. That he would stay that young and invisible while I would get older and older every minute. And soon I had to leave him to continue living.

But it happened again. He was there when I opened my eyes. His eyes on me, expressionless, stood still like a pale statue. But I could see some sadness on his face. "William..." I blinked. Cat really got my tongue after that. "Emily, I need to say something," his voice was hoarse and irritated.

"Where have you been? I'm so tired waiting for you. I thought you had left me to the heaven or something. You didn't even tell me what kind of bloody revenge that caused you to stay here as a ghost. Next time if you want to take a walk outside for days, you need to tell me first. Okay?" I started to scold him. I could hear my disappointment in my words.

William put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them. He's tall and I had to lift my face to see him this close. "I was hiding in your wardrobe when those people came. I had seen them cut off my mother's throat before I ran to hide. They wore masks, swords in their hands. My family had just had our supper when they came," William started to smile miserably.

"It was winter. The meadow was covered by snow. I could see the snow drifting outside the window when they dragged me out and finished me. The last thing I saw as a human was my own dark blood. I thought my nightmare was over when I woke up. But it was just started." William's voice sounded clipped. "Nobody could see or hear my scream."

I could feel that huge lump in my throat when my warm tears streamed down my cold face. William didn't look into my eyes anymore. He was absent from his body, back to a hundred and fifty years ago, acutely still like a statue. I was trying to find a word to say. But his confessions were just too scary for me. I couldn't imagine how it felt to be a lonely ghost with a memory of your family being assassinated. Trapped in a mortal world but still couldn't do anything to make it better.

"And then you came, fainted in front of me." William laughed that I heard as a cry. "You make me feel alive again, like a human. I could even touch you." He stroked my hair. I slowly wrapped his waist with my hands without thinking, and rest my head on him. William moved his hands to hug me, buried his cold face in my dark hair. He felt so real. I couldn't believe that he wasn't alive at all. There must be a mistake. "What is that? What makes you stay? Is that a revenge?" I asked him without moving my head. William hugged me even tighter.

"Those murderers must have been dead by now. Maybe it's you," he answered. "It is a chance for me to love someone."

"What?" I lifted my face to see him. "I think I love you, Emily." His eyes locked into mine. He looked very sad. I wondered if a ghost could cry. And he couldn't. "What?" I asked him again. William closed his eyes for a few seconds before he opened them and exhaled. "Go to the ball with me. Please."

"What?" I think I should have just shut my mouth if I couldn't find another word. William raised his eyebrows and burst a loud laugh. "Can't you use another word, Emily? The saddest part is over, let's begin with the new topic. Hmm..." he seemed about to think.

"Do you want my father sending me to the mental hospital? People can't see you," my voice sounded frustrating. I couldn't imagine myself dancing with an invisible person. The whole town would be shaken for God's sake.

"I just told you that I love you, and all you can think is about mental hospital?"
"I'm sorry, I just... I don't know, I--"
"It's okay, Emily. I've just figured the way out. You just need to let me take you to that bloody ball. Will you?"
I hesitated, and William started to plead, "Please." I said, "Okay."

----

William didn't show up again after taking me to bed that night. We had talked more about his former life before I slowly moved into my dream whilst he still sat on the sofa near my dresser. He didn't come to wake me up again as he used to do these past seven months. So I woke up alone, walked to school with Ethan in silence, did my homework in peace without William's interruption, and was being so lonely when I sat in my bedroom.

I had refused about six invitations from the boys in my school, something that I could never experience in my school in London. But it wasn't about the ball that filled my thoughts. All I could think was only William. He said he would come to take me to the ball, that I just needed to dress perfectly. He even said that he would ask permission from my father. But how could it be possible?

In the end, there I was, sitting in front of my dresser wearing a long baby blue dress which was belonged to my mother who had passed away seven years ago. I also put some natural make up to give colours on my pale face, but did nothing to my dark long hair. Then I just sat there, wondered about William. I tried to tell myself to be just fine if it turned out wrong.

But Ethan came into my bedroom without knocking, surprised me to death by saying, "William is downstairs. I thought you wouldn't go. Who's he?"

I didn't answer my brother, just rushed downstairs and found William was sitting in front of my father. He wore a tuxedo with his long usual ancient coat on his lap. I almost fainted to see him there, living and visible. He turned his face to meet my face and smiled.

----

I still couldn't believe n everything that was happening that night. William was there, in front of me, he smiled so happily and kept on trying to make me dance. All eyes were definitely on us. My entire friends must have wondered about who was this perfectly handsome guy. "How did you do that?" I asked him. I wasn't sure it wasn't a dream. "I let go everything that night, and a man who must be an angel came to take me to the heaven. He asked me something I wanted to do before leaving. I want to go to the ball with you as a human," William told me. His smile vanished, replaced by some irritating expressions.

"Are you going to leave? Really?" I chocked. I couldn't imagine my days without him anymore. "He gave me three hours, Emily. Are you going to dance again?" he asked, trying to change our topic. "No, I want to go home," I whispered. Tears were filled my eyes. William nodded.

Then we were just sitting by the fountain in my backyards. We stared at each other, didn't say anything. William still had about twenty minutes before leaving me forever. It was too painful for me to talk to him. I couldn't believe it must be something I needed to accept. "It has been the best eight months in my entire life," William told me. There was a long silence before I answered, "Mine too."

"You're beautiful, Emily. I'm so grateful to live again as a ghost to meet you. Don't be sad, Em. I'm actually dead," he touched my face with his cold hands. My tears began to stream down again. "I don't even have your picture." I said. William laughed then moved closer to hug me, tighter than he did the last time. "Promise me to live well."

I couldn't answer him. My body was shaking for crying. He stroked my hair with his hand and slowly kissed my head. "Say something. Please," he said with a harsh voice. I managed to answer him with my painful voice, "I promise."

He released me. William's eyes were still locked on to mine when that happened. Slowly under the falling snow, he turned into transparent, his cold hands slowly disappeared. He smiled, but I could see the shining tears on his face. "William!" I cried. My hands were trying to reach him, but they could only hold the air. "I will never forget you, Emily. I will always watch you," he told me.

"I love you, William." And he completely disappeared. 

That was the last night I saw him. He didn't appear anymore after that. His nightmare was over and he could gather with his family again. I was desperately desperate at the beginning after he left me. But time helped me to think more about his last words. He needed me to live well. People came and went away to give lessons. William came to give me lessons that life wasn't immortal. There would come a day when you have to leave and let go everything.

So just live well, and love freely as you still have time.

.....

            

          

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Three Hours for the Ghost (Part II)

(Eight months later)

William was standing near the window in my bedroom- his typical activities. It had been eight months after I met him. I needed about one month to make sure that I wasn't insane at all. It was positive that nobody could see him but me. He was like a real human for me, but a mere ghost for people. I thought a ghost would be transparent, flying over the ground, or showing the scary face that could be your worst nightmares.

But William was truly normal for me. He was just too pale as a human, but it wasn't a sign at all that he was a dead ghost since most of people from around this town were so pale. He walked on the carpet with a sound, I could even touch him. His skin was as cold as an ice cube. The things that made me realise that he wasn't a living human at all were his ability to disappear- like a magic, and his incapability to feel hungry, or thirsty, or sleepy.

"I hate those blokes!" William said with his eyes to the front yard. I was sitting on my bed, reading Oliver Twist.

"Why?" I asked him without interest. "They are trying to get you to the ball," he turned to me and within a second he was already sitting besides me.

"Wick it! How did you know that? How many blokes will come to ask me to the ball?" I closed my books and leaned over the pillows. There will be a new year ball in my school. I had no plan on going there until William said that some boys would ask me to.

His deep blue eyes flickered and he scolded me, "They are betting over you, Emily!"

"I don't care. I don't like them, though. I'd never been in a ball before." I told him. It's probably a good chance for me to experience the teenager thing. I had never been in such a party at all in my seventeen years existence.

William didn't say anything anymore. He disappeared somewhere. I guessed the conversation was over so I jumped out my bed and went downstairs. My father was still in the hospital and Ethan had drowned into his sleep since supper. I checked all doors and windows in the house, tried to make sure that they had been locked before I went to bed. William once said that no thieves would come to sneak in and steal something from the house. But I still couldn't believe him easily.

"It's a haunted house. The last tenant was about fifty years ago, they survived for only a week here," he told me that day. That was the true reason to avoid thieves.

"Did they die?" I asked him in horror. I couldn't believe that my father was crazy enough to still buy this old haunted house. Our family was the first tenant who could survive for eight months in the last a hundred years. What an awesome record!

"No. They moved somewhere else," he shrugged and laughed to see my horror face. "Did you haunt them?" I blinked. William stopped his laugh, his face turned into grim.

"Aren't you afraid with me, Em?" he asked, moved slowly towards me. I could feel the cold wind suddenly blew my hair. He was trying to frighten me.

"I'm only afraid with bad human, not a ghost. Besides, you're a good ghost," I grinned. "I didn't haunt them. I was just trying to make them realise that I do exist here. I was lonely," he confessed. 

William was twenty when he died almost a hundred and fifty years ago. He said that the house was probably built hundreds years before by his ancestors. He didn't remember many things about his life before dead. The exact thing that he remembered was the tragic murder that killed his entire family. William still couldn't find the reason why he was the only one who turned into a ghost while the rest of his family had moved into another dimension. But I guessed it was a matter of revenge. He wanted to do the revenge but he didn't know how.

I returned to my bedroom and tried to sleep when I heard William's footsteps. But I kept pretending not to know and closed my eyes, until the dreams finally pulled me in. Sometimes it felt weird to see a ghost sulked because of you. But I could talk to him tomorrow.

to be continued...

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Three Hours for the Ghost (part I)

(So, my Writing Lecturer on my fifth semester asked us to write our very own Narrative Text. Guess it's time to keep it somewhere and share it to the real world XD).

***

I'd never given much thought of the time when we finally left London to move into a new little town in Scotland to live. I was seventeen and about finishing my high school next year. But my father, a widower and a doctor who wasn't rich at all, insisted that we had to move with him instead of staying in London. He said that the Scotland government itself that asked him to be a leader doctor of a hospital in that town, replacing the former leader whom probably had moved somewhere better or even had passed away.

Ethan, my ten-year-old younger brother was sleeping peacefully whilst the car was speeding on the road in the middle of the real forest. The weather was too cold for spring, and my father prohibited me to roll down the window as I normally did during the spring days in London. Half an hour later, our car turned into a wide meadow with an old house built in the middle of it. The wall that I definitely believed was originally white color, had turned into the color of dust and been exfoliated. The roof was cuneiform, with a wide front door. There were three steps stairs for the balcony. My father stopped the car right in front of the door and exhaled in relieved, then he tucked his dark hair with his hand.

"Welcome in our new home sweet home," he said with a smile that I saw as a grin on his face. I completely didn't understand what kind of bloody thing that could make my father so happy in moving out from London to a place like this. I grabbed my white baseball cap, put it on, and jumped onto the damp black soil. The weather was cold that I thought positively the spring was never been here at all. My father then opened the back seat door to wake my brother up. It could take five to ten minutes efforts to take that copper haired boy out of his very good sleep.

"When did the last tenant leave this place, Dad?" I asked my father. "I'm not sure, Em. But it's a great price for such a big house. You can choose your bedroom later, and wait until you see the backyards," my father answered and shook his head. Then he continued trying to wake Ethan up by pulling his feet.

"Is the hospital far from here?" I asked again, moved slowly towards the front door. The nearest neighborhood was too far to probably hear a scream from here. And I thought that I would be afraid to be left here when my father was on his night duty. Of course there's no security alarm provided in such an old house like this one. Our small flat in London had a security alarm that could let you sleep well every night. And I had been used to it.

"No, Sweetheart. This town is really small, we can walk on foot anywhere around," my father answered in the middle of his efforts on Ethan. I still couldn't use the term 'town' for a place that could be better to be called as a 'village'. This place was too quiet and dull as a town.

Ethan finally woke up after five minutes. He walked like a zombie behind me when my father opened the front door with some argent key. The inside of the house was surprising me. There were the luxurious but ancient furniture completing the wide rooms, settled perfectly everywhere. The wall was dark red color, with a great crystal lamp hanging from the ceilings that illuminated the whole room. The heavy curtains draped elegantly covering the wide glass windows, and the floors were carpeted with dark rugs. There were sides tables in every corners, with some antique carving chairs and sofa near the great fireplace that I usually saw only in the historical movies. You could find the stairs to the upper floor on the other side of the room, near the alley that separated the wide room with the kitchen.

I quickly ran to the stairs and found three big bedrooms on the upper floor with bathrooms in each room. There were also a library room that was full of tall bookshelves and a narrow but snug sitting room near the balcony. I finally chose the room which has a view of the front yard of the house. That room was already equipped by a queen size bed, big dark wardrobe, and an antique set of dresser. 

I checked the bathroom and ridden off my disappointments for being here. It felt like living in a real castle but without those beautiful gowns and maids. And I was about going back to my new bed when I saw him and that my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I really wanted to scream immediately, but there was a huge lump that chocked me. I could feel the blood lessened in my cold face. He was staring at me without expression, pale white with his untidy auburn hair, and bare foot. He wore a worn-out ancient white shirt with long coat and a black trouser. "Can you see me?" he asked. His voice was enigmatically soft but cold. He was definitely surprised to see me.

I took a step back, tried to collect my strength to scream and called my father. But I think I would be fainted right away. Is it possible to miss a person who was standing in front of you only a few metres away?

"Nobody could see me, don't you know?" he brooded over and took a step towards me.

"No!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Don't move! Who are you?" I chocked again.

"William. My name is William," he answered with smile. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" my voice suddenly turned into a whisper.

He simply answered, "I've been here for a hundred and fifty years."

Then the lights left me...

to be continued....

          

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A Cum Laude

January 30, 2017

I woke up in the morning with the remaining memories of my latest dreams. In that dream, I was a princess, a modern princess I guessed. I had a very long hair, which is weird because I have a medium hair in reality. A man was chasing me. I couldn't see his face at the beginning as I was hiding behind a hut. I could only hear his voice. Then, I remembered that I wandered in a building that I knew was a school. I felt that a man who was chasing me was getting closer that I disguised myself as a school girl. It was a really weird dream because then I realised that a man who was chasing me was the person I really wanted to meet. The one I used to call "The Ice Statue".

I kept thinking about that dream the whole day. Him, in my dream was wearing our junior high uniform. Most of our memories happened in Junior High School. My memories about him were only the pictures of him as a Junior High student.

At twilight, I received a message that changed my entire moods. So uneasy. His message was probably my only chance to meet and talk to him again. I thought like, I was tired and I was done keeping my longing. I need to see him. Maybe it's my only chance in a lifetime.

But I also afraid to see him. I was afraid that he would probably reject or ignore me. I was afraid that he never wanted me at all that he would pretend to be happy in front of me. I was afraid that I could be a burden for him there. I was afraid that I would have no strength to say goodbye. I was afraid of everything.

But at night, I decided to come.

January 31, 2017
I walked in agony. I almost turned around and just left everything behind. But I kept walking to see him, to the place that he told me. I walked with the thumping heart and hazy mind. Until I stopped in front of the room where he struggled to get his degree.

I stood there. I couldn't think anymore. There was no way back. I told myself to be bold as I held so tight the gift my mother had prepared for him.

And he walked out. His friends congratulated him and he laughed with them. His face looked very happy with his little but sparkling eyes. He wore a black suit with a tie. He didn't realise that I was there that for a sec I thought, "It's okay. It's okay if you don't recognise me."

But his eyes found me and he looked both astonished and surprised. And I smiled. All of my fears suddenly dissolved into the air. My heart fluttered that I forgot those burdens in me. Then he talked, he talked as if we had met everyday these whole years. He didn't change at all. He was still the same person I had before. He only got older.

The few hours flew too fast. He introduced me to all of his friends. He sat in front of me and talked about everything to me that I only got a little chance to talk. His happiness bursted that I felt so happy too. I had never been that happy these past few years. I was just too happy that I wanted to freeze the time. I wanted him to keep sitting there and talking to me until the end of the world.

Talking to him again caused made me realising something. Days change, stories change, people change, but my feelings never change. Frozen.

I still have the exactly same feelings to a man who asked me to put his "Cum Laude" tag around his shoulder as I had eight years ago.

I'd never stopped, yet buried it somewhere deep in my heart.

LACxxx

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