Every morning I laid my head on her lap, with my one ear pressed to her stomach, I could hear her stomach grumbled, while my other ear was listening to the sounds outside the car. I bended my legs, so I could fit between my mother and my brother. My dad sat next to our driver, read his newspaper and remained silent. I closed my eyes, trying to let myself to fall asleep. I wondered why my mother’s stomach always grumbled so loud, but that sound simply made me fell into a deep sleep and started to enter a serene state of dream until she woke me up and told me that we already arrived at my school.
He cried… He cried again. I never hit him, pinched him, kicked him or did any other things physically involved, I know what I did to him, I’ve always known, mentally I hurt him. He was only being a good brother to me, he didn’t want to fight back, he never did, even though he could, if he wanted to. He was far more bigger than I was, he could hit me to shut off my mouth for being such a horrible little sister, but again, he didn’t do it, because he didn’t want to hurt me even a bit. I was a bully back then to my brother, even when he started to cry and sat silently in the car next to our driver, I just sat on the back of the car with folded arms acting so tough… As the time goes by, my brother started to find his own way to cope with my behavior, he started to ignore me everytime I tried to torture him, for the result he had been succeeded, causing me to swallow my own bullet and just like that, the triumph was on his side along with my tears running down my face.
I touched the surface and peeled the skin, made my hand smelled tangy. When I finished, I put the orange one by one into my mouth, the water splashed as my teeth sunk in it. It was then flowing down to my throat, but the sour sweet taste stayed in my mouth. I like orange so much, specially when the sun blazing through. Even though I was in the car with air conditioner, I was sure I could feel the heat from the outside, that’s why I ate my oranges. When I was a kid I always do that and I can never enjoy them alone, so I offered it to my loyal driver, I couldn’t help myself to think him as the part of our family, he has been working for us around 13 years now. He was already an old man with wrinkly skin when he started to work for the first time. My driver may looks like an old man, but he owns the street in Jakarta, nobody wants to mess with him, they respect him.
Have anyone noticed that all of the stories above involve the same thing? It’s my car, my green Corona car that always take me everywhere for years. I have so many memories in it, but I have to let it go now, on the last day of high school, as if to sell my lovely green car is the first step to start my new life. It’s so old, the inside skin started to flake off, the fill of the driver car seats has already exposed, the air conditioner doesn’t work properly anymore, the buttons to lock and unlock the car automatically are useless, the steer is far from smooth and so much trouble is going on in that car, but I love it, I have spent most of my life sitting on the back of the car in the traffic of Jakarta. Sometimes I slept, sang, ate, drank, open the barrier between the back of the car seat area and the car trunk, bullied my brother and did many weird things in that car. I’m going to miss my green baby so much, the memories will remain forever of all the things, the tragedies and the people that ever breath in it…