[~~~] Arabic dialogue
"~~~" Indonesian dialogue
Mr. SATRIO'S POV
I still remember that night…
Now, I'm sitting at my desk and starting to remember the night how everything started… and has continued until now.
It happened a few years ago. A notification appeared on my phone and woke me up.
With heavy eyes, I looked at my phone screen and… I got a message from one of my close friends, Hamzah.
'If anything happens to me, please take care of my only son, Haleem.'
That was all Hamzah sent. Nothing else.
At first, I felt quite confused by the message Hamzah had sent. I didn't even know why… that night… felt colder than usual.
I didn't know for how long my eyes were staring at the message. I could even feel my heart beating faster than before for no reason, even though there was no threat whatsoever that night.
But when the sun had risen… unexpected news… arrived.
My wife and I couldn't believe it because… at 11:54 last night, Hamzah's car had been found completely wrecked on the railroad tracks
Trying not to think about the worst, we both tried to contact Hamzah and his wife, Nadia. However, we found nothing on our phone screens except for calls that could not be connected. And… that night was the last night Hamzah's phone was active.
I remembered then that I had a friend who worked for the police, so I immediately notified him and explained what had happened near the train station.
On that very same day, police officers went to investigate the area. They found several pieces of evidence… one of which was Hamzah's phone with a shattered screen. But… the police didn't find anyone inside the car.
Hamzah and Nadia had disappeared without a trace. Something terrible had happened to them both
My wife Fatimah and I really did not know what else to do. Fatimah couldn't hold back her tears after losing a childhood friend who had almost never been apart from her.
And as for me… all I could do at that time was stare at the last message Hamzah had sent to me. He said that he wanted me to take care of his son, Haleem.
I thought that was all Fatimah and I could do back then. So, we both decided to start living in Hamzah's house and… of course, to raise Haleem as our duty.
Haleem was a ten-year-old boy. He was a boy who really loved playing football with friends his age, and he was also very close to those around him… including Fatimah and me.
It was truly unexpected. A little kid who had just turned ten at that time and still needed the presence of adults around him… had lost something truly precious.
At first, Haleem felt confused about why his parents had not returned… for more than a week. The little kid was also constantly asking why Fatimah and I were suddenly living with him in his house.
I intended to keep this a secret until Haleem was older, but I was quite sure that… the kid was old enough to… find out on his own. So, inevitably, Fatimah and I had to tell Haleem… everything. Of course, it wasn't an easy thing to explain
Haleem… that kid truly didn't believe what Fatimah and I told him. He even cried… he truly broke down… because he had realized that his father and his mother would never be able to come home again.
Haleem's behavior began to change. If before he had been a cheerful kid who spent his time with friends… after learning the bad news, Haleem became a gloomy kid who always stayed in bed, holding his family photo.
Fatimah and I tried everything we could to comfort Haleem, even his friends were always coming by to invite him to play football. But none of it worked. Haleem… only found it harder and harder to hold back his tears.
We… felt like failures back then. But I felt that it wasn't our fault, even though we failed to comfort Haleem. You know? Fatimah and I had never had a child before. My wife had a condition that made it impossible for her to get pregnant. We had tried everything, and the result was nothing. Fatimah was deeply distressed by her condition, and she became even more overwhelmed seeing Haleem unable to interact with us.
At that time, I thought that this was the end of everything… because, what else could I do? But… before despair clouded my mind, I remembered that I had once studied at an Islamic boarding school and had met someone very brilliant there; in fact… I had that person's number on my phone.
Without wasting any time, I immediately called that brilliant person to explain everything that had happened, while also asking for advice on what I should do to overcome all these problems.
That brilliant person understood the situation very well, he even said that he had been in that same position before.
There were three things he told me. First, I had to be the first person to accept that… failing to comfort them didn't mean failing as a human being. I needed to forgive myself for that helplessness.
Second, he told me that I needed to tell my wife she didn't need to pretend to be a perfect mother. At the right moment, there was no harm in Fatimah being honest with Haleem about her own feelings of sadness and emptiness. Sometimes, two people who were both hurting could connect more easily than those who tried to appear strong.
And lastly, I needed to validate Haleem's memories. Instead of forcing him to be cheerful or go back to playing football, I could simply sit near him and invite him to talk about what Haleem loved most about his father or his mother. To keep Hamzah's house alive with his memories, so that Haleem wouldn't feel like he had lost his identity.
And the result… was unbelievable. A few days after doing what had to be done, we were already like a happy family. If before we used to just leave a plate of food and a cup of drink near Haleem's desk so he could eat alone, then we could eat together at the same table. If before Haleem would only lock himself in his room, then he was able to touch the grass again and play football with friends his age. In fact, if before all I saw on Haleem's face was gloom… it was replaced by the same smile that used to appear when his parents were still with him.
Everything looked very… very good. But that did not mean the task was over. Because, I heard there was fighting and bullying happening at Al-Ilmi School… the school where Haleem studies to this day. Even though it didn't happen to Haleem, it was still part of my duty… and Fatimah's as well.
With all her heart, my wife cared for Haleem as if he were her own son. Fatimah always prepared meals for us every morning, noon, and night. She would comfort Haleem whenever he had a nightmare, and she would also teach him how to wash his own clothes so Haleem could be more independent.
And my duty… of course, was to protect Haleem from all kinds of threats and to teach him several important lessons. I would teach him about Islam, the meaning of patience, the meaning of life, good manners, the power of prayer that touched the heart gently, and the Arabic language that I had learned back when I was still at the Islamic boarding school.
And regarding those bullies, I taught Haleem the martial arts I had learned at a very young age. Fatimah and I wouldn't be able to be near Haleem forever, so that kid had to be able to fight to protect himself and others as well.
Every afternoon, in the backyard, Haleem practiced martial arts and studied all the basic techniques. I told him about the human body's weak points, and I also made sure to share the principles of martial arts with him.
'From the eyes… arises courage. From the breath… comes stillness. And from the intention… appears honor.'
That was the first principle I gave Haleem when I first brought that kid to the backyard, the place where he would practice his martial arts every single day.
I… actually also taught Haleem a forbidden technique that could knock an opponent unconscious in just one strike, its purpose was to end a long fight quickly. But Haleem needed to remember that such a technique could endanger anyone's life, so… I hoped he would never forget that… the technique I had taught him was only for specific situations. Remember, martial arts isn't for hurting anyone without a clear reason.
Days passed by, and Haleem kept trying his best to do everything I had taught him. It was not easy for him, his legs were not strong enough, and his hands would often tremble whenever he had to parry an attack. But there was something… different about him. The young man… never complained to me, not even once.
Haleem was a fast learner, just like his father… well, maybe… sometimes even too fast. But I knew Haleem was not the type to rush things. The young man truly wanted to learn something new, just like his father. So, this was what they called… like father, like son.
However, even though I saw that many things had developed rapidly, sometimes… I… still doubted, even questioned myself. Was all of this enough? Haleem might have become a better version of himself, but he was still… too young to face this cruel world. Was it all… moving too fast for him?
But… whenever I looked at Haleem, something… told me that this young man actually had… something. Somehow, my conviction would always reappear every time I saw Haleem striving to keep improving himself.
Until this very second. Sitting here at my desk, reflecting on everything that has never ceased to make me feel proud.
Haleem… not yet twenty, not even in high school yet… is now growing more… and more… and more mature. The young man has transformed himself from the clingy and weak child he once was into someone with a heart of steel. His way of thinking is also different now. Not a single piece of my knowledge has ever been forgotten by this young man.
In fact, I heard that Haleem had managed to win first place in a foreign language speech competition at his school a few days ago. That young man got the highest score and defeated all of his seniors at Al-Ilmi School. Therefore, Haleem is now known among his friends as the most talented student in foreign languages. That is an extraordinary achievement, and it's impossible for me not to be proud of him.
Everything feels so incredible, and it would be a great pity if… it all had to end in separation. I mean… I have just received news about a new job placement from my agency… in a city very far from here… Jakarta.
I also remember that in Jakarta, there's a doctor who's very likely to be able to cure Fatimah's illness. But that doctor can't stay in Jakarta for long because he will soon be leaving for a very distant country. So, this is our only chance.
You might all be wondering… what's so regrettable about this? Isn't this a great opportunity to cure the illness that has always kept my wife under so much pressure? I mean, that's not what I'm thinking about right now. What's on my mind is… Haleem.
If Fatimah and I go to Jakarta for a few weeks or months, then who will look after Haleem here? It's impossible for Haleem to come along because he has to attend Al-Ilmi School. Do we need to hire someone to watch over him here? Or should we leave him at a childcare center?
Rather than wasting time being confused, Fatimah and I decided to talk to Haleem first. We both told him about our move to Jakarta, and we also asked him… whether he needed someone to look after him here, or if he just wanted to go to a childcare center. And Haleem's answer was truly… unbelievable.
The young man decided to stay in this house alone and told us not to worry about him.
Even though we knew that Haleem had become increasingly independent, Fatimah and I highly doubted that choice.
We tried to convince him that he needed someone to care for him. However, Haleem only smiled, and calmly he said…
'I'm grateful… Mr. Satrio and Mrs. Fatimah have never stopped helping me. But I don't want to be a burden to both of you. You have helped me so much… I'm even confused about how I can repay all your kindness.'
Fatimah and I fell silent after Haleem said that.
'I remember. At that time, Mr. Satrio told me that one day, we will all be alone. And I understand… I understand that our togetherness… cannot last forever. There will surely be a day… when we are in distant places.'
Tears began to roll down Haleem's cheeks after those words were spoken.
'You don't need to worry about me, Mr. Satrio. Neither do you, Mrs. Fatimah. There is nothing to worry about. Thanks to Mrs. Fatimah's help… I can now finish all the housework by myself. Besides… I'm no longer afraid of nightmares. And I also don't want… to see Mrs. Fatimah crying alone anymore. I just want… Mrs. Fatimah to recover from her illness.'
Haleem tried to hold back his tears… and forced himself to keep smiling
'Seeing Mrs. Fatimah always crying alone… it made me sad too. This is the only chance… so that Mrs. Fatimah won't have to cry anymore. If I go to a childcare center, or if you hire a sitter… it will only burden Mr. Satrio and Mrs. Fatimah. Because Mr. Satrio will surely need a lot of money for Mrs. Fatimah's recovery. And I… of course, I don't want to be a burden to both of you.'
It was unbelievable. I never expected… a young person like Haleem would say that to us.
'Once again… Mr. Satrio and Mrs. Fatimah, you don't need to worry. I will be fine here. If someone I don't know chases me, I will protect myself just as Mr. Satrio taught me… or run to that place and hide there. As long as Mr. Satrio and Mrs. Fatimah are okay… I'll be okay too.'
Haleem was still very young, but the way he spoke far exceeded my own expectations.
It felt like a dream…
Fatimah and I couldn't hold back our tears. Tear after tear slowly fell to the floor.
We both embraced Haleem gently, as if the young man were our own son.
It felt so… warm. This is what it feels like to have a son.
SWITCHING TO HALEEM'S POV
A few weeks have passed…
Monday morning.
The sky looks bright today, with sunlight peeking through the gaps in the leaves. The morning air is still fresh, yet it cannot erase the loneliness perched upon my shoulders.
Usually, I walk to school with my best friends. But today is different. I don't know why… they all suddenly have other things to do. And yeah… now, I'm alone.
Hi, my name is Haleem. I'm… a student. But I'm not the most popular kid in school, and I'm definitely not the smartest either. I never even thought of myself as someone special… or anything like that.
I'm just an ordinary teenager, someone who's always alone, like an NPC in a video game.
A teenager who just wants to enjoy life as usual.
IN THE SCHOOL HALLWAY
Walking calmly while listening to the sound of my own footsteps echoing through the hallways of Al-Ilmi School—that's the name of this place.
A few students have started to appear, wandering here and there, but my eyes aren't on them. Instead, I'm checking my watch, which now shows 6:41 AM. There is still time before classes begin at 7:00 AM.
By the way, today we're going to learn Arabic and—
*Bugh!*
"—Ah!"
Someone just bumped into me so hard that my body was thrown backward until I hit the floor.
I was looking at my watch just now, so I didn't notice what was in front of me. And because of that, my back really hurts.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"
My eyes were squeezed shut as I endured the pain. And my ears… had just heard the voice of a girl who sounded… panicked.
As I opened my eyes… slowly,
I saw a girl I didn't recognize… staring at me with a worried look.
That girl had fair, clear skin, and… she was very beautiful. Her uniform was the same as the other girls at this school, but… I had never seen a girl like her before.
That girl didn't even look like she was from this country. She looked like… a foreigner.
The girl and I were still staring at each other.
Strange… why… why can my eyes not stop looking into her? Even… that girl also seemed to be staring into my eyes until…
The girl apologized, then rushed away, leaving me still on the floor.
Rather than staying confused like this, I'd better get back up and… wait, something on the floor has caught my attention. A purple pen, with a small cat charm hanging at the end of it.
Several questions arise as my gaze fixes on the pen that—somehow and at some point—was already lying there on the floor, even though it wasn't there before, right? Could it be… that pen belongs to the girl who bumped into me earlier?
If I try to ask… well, who should I ask? The girl has gone somewhere.
You know? It would be better if I take the pen and keep it in my school uniform pocket. Someone else might just take it if I leave it lying there.
I'll ask that foreign girl if I see her again.
And for some reason… I can't shake the feeling that this is not just an ordinary purple pen.
INSIDE THE CLASSROOM
Finally, I arrived at the classroom after a morning walk that felt much longer than it actually was, even though my house isn't that far from school.
Inside the classroom, I see someone sweeping the floor. It's my best buddy, Karim.
Karim is one of my best friends, and he's the same age as me. We have known each other since we were kids and have many things in common; one of them is football. Karim is the best football player in this entire school.
Oh, I just remembered something. Yesterday, Karim fell quite hard on the field while we were playing football. A hard tackle from the opposing team made him fall in pain and lie on the sidelines.
Maybe I should ask Karim about that.
You might be wondering… is Karim the only close friend I have? Well, the answer is… of course not.
My other best friends have just walked into the classroom: Rizky, Zaky, Ali, and Arif.
The first person to enter is Rizky. He's the type of person who's always joking and is almost never serious in any situation. Rizky is fun to hang out with, but he can also be a bit dangerous. Once he starts joking, the line between 'funny' and 'too much' quickly disappears. But still, his jokes always make this classroom feel like something other than a boring prison.
Behind Rizky, there's a quiet kid named Zaky. He might look like an ordinary student, rarely speaking to anyone and always displaying an expressionless face. However, don't let his cold aura fool you. Everything seems fine when Zaky is relaxing. But if he starts to get annoyed, well… you'd better protect your head and your legs.
Among all of us, Ali is the toughest and the oldest. He's taller than anyone in the class, and his voice is always firm. Ali is the most mature among this group. Not just because he is a year older than us, but also because of the way he talks and makes decisions. Whenever we need clarity or a wise choice, we rely on Ali. Just don't ever mess with him. Seriously. Never.
And finally, one of the smartest and most unique students in our class, his name is Arif. He has an extraordinary way of thinking, and he's able to solve math problems in his head as fast as a calculator. For Arif, getting the highest score in most subjects is basically nearly 100% guaranteed, but… he's not that skilled in foreign language subjects like Arabic and English. Despite not being great at those subjects, everyone in this class often calls him 'The Professor' because of his genius in difficult subjects like mathematics and science.
And right now, there's one thing I'm really curious about.
Whatever Rizky just said had Ali, Zaky, and Karim fighting to keep from laughing. Ali nearly spit on me. Rizky was bringing up that incident from school.
Meanwhile, Arif just stayed quiet, looking a bit annoyed by Rizky's words.
And I just watched them all without saying a thing.
You're probably wondering what actually happened at school. And yeah, you probably want to know what happened to Arif a week ago.
I could tell you the whole story. But just know, Arif gets seriously mad if anyone brings it up right in front of him. And honestly, I don't feel like dealing with Arif's anger right now.
But don't worry. I'll still tell you everything… even if Arif might kick me later.
So, a week ago, Arif invited me to the school lab. Arif said he wanted to show me the results of his new project.
Hearing that, I was completely curious. So, I said sure and followed him to the lab.
Inside the lab, Arif started working on his project while I just stood by watching him. At first, everything seemed fine. But 20 minutes later… things started getting weird.
I stared at the test tube in silence. The liquid inside had been clear before. But now, it started turning orange… then red… wait, what? Why was it suddenly going dark black?
The weirdness didn't stop there. A few seconds later, I saw the tube start to shake, and I swear my brain sent me a warning signal right then. It was like my mind was saying…
'I have a bad feeling about this.'
I was already uneasy watching that tube shake, but not for Arif. The professor looked totally calm, like this was nothing unusual. Arif just kept focusing on the tube. Then I heard Arif say something like…
'Hmm… this is weird.'
Slowly, I started backing away after he said that. I even asked Arif about the project, but Arif calmly said everything was fine.
And right at that moment, we heard a sound…
*BLOOP*
That… did not sound reassuring. We both froze, staring at the tube as the noise echoed.
Normally in movies, when you hear a sound like that, the next thing is an explosion. And yeah… even though I knew this was not a movie, I stepped back farther anyway.
The tube kept shaking harder and smoke even started coming out of it. I was seriously uncomfortable now. Then, at the same time, Arif admitted he'd just made a mistake.
Turns out I was right. Arif had finally realized he messed something up. And apparently the professor had also just noticed I wasn't standing anywhere near the experiment anymore.
I warned Arif to step back from the project, but the professor didn't listen. He stayed right there, trying to save his experiment. And a few seconds later…
*BOOM!!!*
It all happened in an instant.
I'm pretty sure that everyone in the school heard that explosion, no doubt about it. I even heard people screaming outside right after it happened.
The whole lab was filled with thick black smoke. Hot air blasted across my face. I quickly covered my nose with my arm, rushed to the windows, and flung them open to let the smoke out.
That's when I realized I was alone in the lab. Arif wasn't there anymore. I called out for him a few times, but no answer.
At first, I honestly thought Arif's project had sucked Arif into another universe. But that idea disappeared the moment I saw the lab door open. Turns out Arif had stepped outside right after the blast.
What a genius move. The professor caused the explosion… and then left me inside all by myself. Genius… or maybe too much of a genius.
But a few seconds later, I heard people laughing outside. It sounded like Rizky and the rest of my buddies. I had no clue what was going on out there.
I headed toward the door, but stopped when someone walked back into the lab. It was the professor who had left me in this smoke-filled room, Arif. But something about him was different.
Arif's face had completely changed. He looked like he'd just walked through a storm of asphalt. Thick black soot covered his whole face, and only his eyes were still white.
Now… I understood why there was laughter outside. No wonder Rizky and the others were cracking up.
I even had to turn my body away from Arif and try my hardest not to laugh. But in the end… I'm so sorry, Arif. I couldn't hold it in.
The end.
*The school bell rings…*
The school bell goes off, that loud clang telling everyone the first class is about to start.
Chatter and laughter slowly fade as students hurry back to their seats.
I head to my desk too. Mine's in the very back row. Arif sits right in front of me, and Karim's on my left.
But the second I sit down, something catches my eye. On my right side, there's a desk and chair that definitely weren't there before.
Strange… who put those here?
Then my gaze lands on a girl sitting at the desk in front of that empty spot and reading a book. She's wearing a hijab and round glasses.
The empty desk was right behind her. She might know something.
Good thing I know that girl. I'll ask her.
Latifah glances back at the empty desk and then looks at me again.
I just nod, staring at that empty seat for a few seconds before turning back around. I'll figure it out later.
By the way, the girl with the hijab and round glasses is also one of my closest friends. Of all the girls I know here, she's the closest to me. Everyone calls her Latifah.
If Arif is the smartest boy in class, Latifah's the smartest girl. And if you're wondering which one's actually smarter: Honestly, it's a tie. They think differently, but both are crazy brilliant.
Latifah and I have known each other since kindergarten. Her mom once told me I was her very first friend. Since then, we've barely ever drifted apart. But we've always kept things respectful and always some space between us.
To me, Latifah is… different from the other girls at this school. More than just smart, she is also very friendly, patient, and always talks about the books she reads, the things she notices on her way home, or even the random dreams she had last night.
And yeah… a lot of people think we're more than friends, but that's not it. We're not some couple from a romance novel, and Latifah doesn't want that either.
At my age right now, I'm still not allowed by Mr. Satrio to have a girlfriend. There's nothing I can do except follow his rules.
Honestly, being Latifah's best friend is more than enough. Not every close friendship has to turn into love, right?
That instantly reminds me of the girl who bumped into me in the hallway earlier. Could it be…?
Latifah pauses for a moment… then asks.
I stop and think back to that hallway moment. The mystery girl who crashed into me. A few seconds later, I started to describe her.
That voice… calm but commanding. Mrs. Salamah, our homeroom and Arabic teacher.
The classroom falls quiet instantly. Everyone rushes to their seats.
The teacher who usually teaches us Arabic has just arrived in our classroom, Mrs. Salamah. She's a friendly teacher, always smiling, and… sometimes she can be very strict with any student. The entire class can instantly fall silent with just one sharp look from her
Today she walks in holding the attendance book and our Arabic textbook. She sets them on her desk and then faces us with a steady but friendly voice.
It turns out I'm not the only one missing out. I thought I was the only one who didn't know about the announcement.
Some students nod, but most look confused.
The classroom atmosphere immediately became noisy, and whispers could be heard from all directions.
Students glance at each other and talk under their breath.
I just stare at that empty desk beside me without saying anything.
Mrs. Salamah gestures for quiet. Then she turns toward the door and speaks in Arabic.
Every eye in the room shifts to the door.
The new student walks in, and—
Yep, it's a girl.
She's wearing a hijab and the same uniform as the other girls.
It's the same girl who bumped into me earlier.
Not gonna lie… I'm totally shocked.
The new girl walks in calmly, with a sweet smile on her face.
And suddenly the whole classroom gets even louder than before. Not just the boys, even the girls can't stop staring at how pretty she is.
I answer that with a nod, but my eyes stay locked on the new girl.
Everyone else is staring at her too, like her beauty has everyone under a spell.
The new girl nodded her head slowly, then smiled.
Mrs. Salamah turns back to us.
In less than five seconds, this classroom fell into complete silence.
All eyes are on the new girl now.
The new girl stands there, giving us that sweet smile.
And yeah… her eyes meet mine… just for a few seconds.
Then, the new girl begins.
Her voice is so… so… soft.
My heart actually skips a beat.
Then that new girl switches to Indonesian to introduce herself.
TO BE CONTINUED…