My breath was labored, as if my whole body was crushed. How could I not, exercising at night like this, running half-dead, all I knew was to get to the village. Sure enough, we were already in the village, and it felt like Satan couldn't possibly catch up.

Pfff! I put the scooter on the side. I was exhausted at the first house after the bridge into the village and after passing through the rows of bushes at the old house. I was utterly exhausted. It was now light; lights were shining everywhere.

Because my legs couldn't carry me any longer, I sat on the porch near the road. The house belonged to Anto, the first house upon entering Bulan Indah Village. My breath was still ragged. In the middle of the night, there were no passersby. There was no way a repair shop would be open in my village. I wanted to soothe my fatigue for a moment. I stretched my legs straight out in front of me.

Slap!

"Oh Allah, O Allah, the Most High! Allahu Akbar!" I screamed in surprise at the sudden tap on my shoulder. I lifted my body slightly in surprise. My breath hitched again in surprise.

Who could it be? I didn't dare turn around, as if my head was frozen and I couldn't look away. I was truly scared; usually this is the most tense moment in a horror movie, because if I looked back...

"What are you doing patrolling here at night, Nan!"

I felt instantly relieved. A human voice.

"My motorcycle suddenly had a leak." I immediately looked back. A faceless figure, just a face that was a blurry, indistinct square, and just like floating cloth.

"Demon! Demon!" I screamed, not caring, it was all I could do because my legs were suddenly numb and stiff, unable to move to run.

Slap! My cheeks suddenly felt hot because the demon slapped me, and I suddenly screamed.

"If you want to dream, don't do it here! Demon, Demon! I, Roni, know!" The young man took off his hood. He used his checkered sarong to cover his face to keep warm. He's Roni, my childhood friend. He's probably on night patrol duty right now, so he might have just come out of his house.

It's you, Ron! I don't know if I was chased by a ghost!" I felt relieved that it wasn't a ghost, but I was also embarrassed by my friend's prank, and I screamed like a coward.

"Hey! Since when is Adnan afraid of ghosts? Weren't you the one who always refused to believe the local stories that there were ghosts in that old house!"

Roni was right. I always denied the ghost stories that were often told. Even though many people had told stories and witnessed them being truly scared, I myself never believed them.

I don't believe in the ghost of Mbah Pati because he was a good person. Everyone always associates ghosts with Mbah Pati. So... the ghost that jumped in the bushes earlier, was it a ghost trying to defame Mbah Pati?

"So here's the story, Ron: I was working overtime today, and suddenly my motorcycle tire got a flat. As I led them to the bamboo grove, a figure jumped between the trees. "It's just that, because it was night, I ran as fast as I could until I found you here."

Roni nodded at my story.

"No wonder you met a ghost. There's no one wandering around at this hour, where a devil is wandering around."

"Oh well! Anyway, we've already arrived at the village. "Are you on patrol, Ron? You only just got out at this hour!"

"Yeah, it's my shift. Dad's sick, so I'm taking his place."

I nodded and said goodbye to him. My fatigue had also begun to subside, so I said goodbye and pushed my motorcycle again. My house was nearby, and Roni apparently wanted to take me home while also patrolling and calling the others for their patrol schedules. I thanked him; at least we had someone to chat with until we got home. A thin mist still lingered around our journey. However, why did the smell of this mist reach the village? Was someone burning incense for something supernatural? Or was it, as many people say, that black magic requires incense burning to feed the spirits they keep?

Ah! Never mind, I arrived in front of the house. Roni refused to stop by, even though I had asked several times, not even for a cup of coffee. He said goodbye and continued his patrol. I went into my parents' house. I brought the spare key and opened the door with it.

By the time I rested, I was already very tired today.

@ @ @

Morning greets me. I woke up as the dawn call to prayer sounded. I stretched, relaxing; it was time to get up.

I quickly got up, passed my room, and saw Dad already wearing his peci (traditional Islamic cap) and carrying a prayer mat. You're ready to go to the mosque, Dad. Mom was probably already in the kitchen, as usual. She'll cook first, and then, once she's done cooking, she'll pray alone at home.

I passed the kitchen on my way to the back bathroom. Sure enough, Mom was still cooking on the gas stove. It looked like she'd already cooked the rice and just needed to prepare the vegetables and side dishes.

"What's wrong with my motorcycle, Nan? Are you going to walk me home?"

"Yes, Mom," I answered with a yawn, still really sleepy from working overtime last night. "I got a puncture on my way home from buying coffee at Mang Krimo's shop. Okay, Adn, I'll just walk you home."

Okay, then, the important thing is that you get home safely and are healthy. Oh yeah, the ablution will be done soon, the iqamah.”

"Yes, Mom," I nodded and headed to the bathroom first. After I had finished my ablutions, I took the peci (traditional Islamic prayer cap) and sarong I had prepared earlier. I put them on and headed to the mosque.

I didn't want to talk further about last night's ghost; my mother would definitely disapprove and reject it. Grandma Pati was close to me; perhaps she had once been her adopted daughter. Grandma Pati herself always helped those in need and was also a Quran teacher.

On the way, about 150 meters from home, my father had already left, and it was still a bit dark because it was dawn, and the silhouette from the east was only a blur. My body felt tired; I'd worked overtime, not to mention running far while guiding the motorbike. Oh my God, I was so tired.

I raised my hands, stretching to my feet, he he he, there was always something. I yawned deliciously while covering my mouth. Still on the way, as I was covering my mouth to yawn, a white figure flashed past me, as I was already still, writhing. while standing. I was shocked to death as the white shadow passed me without my realizing it and landed next to me. It smelled nice, too.

"Pocoonngg!"

My voice choked, and I suddenly blurted out.

The white shadow stopped immediately and turned to face me. I froze, speechless, waiting, as if the world had stopped spinning, except for the white figure's head, which turned toward me.

"What are you doing, Mr. Adnan? "Hurry up, it's time for the iqamah (prayer)," a soft voice said. Why does a ghost have such a melodious voice?

I regained consciousness and noticed that clean, beautiful face... ha... it was Nadia. Her name was Nadia Jovita, the daughter of Mr. Kusrin, the imam of our mosque. Her face was indeed very beautiful and was sought after and admired by many young men, including me, of course. Unfortunately, she was Mr. Kusrin's daughter, known for being fierce and devout, having performed the Hajj, and being a kiai (Islamic religious leader). What about me? Oh, never mind!

"Sorry, Nadia... I thought it was just a surprise because it just flashed by. Mas Adnan didn't notice."

I called myself Mas, just to be polite, to get attention, wow!

"That's why, Mas, if you want to wriggle, do it in bed. You can't even wriggle while going to the mosque."

Nadia hurried away, leaving me still speechless. Sure enough, the rainwater that hit the house also landed on her porch not far away. The fruit fell beneath the tree, but it was carried away by the bats that ate it. So, why is it a proverb?

Yes, Nadia is basically just like her father. Fierce and outspoken, though beautiful. Very beautiful, in fact. But I do like to dream, he he he. Nadia herself is still in her sixth semester of college, graduating soon.

Would I dare propose to her?

Ah! I'll probably reject her immediately. Oh, poor thing, dreaming, where do you only come when you're asleep? What the heck, singing instead?

The Iqamah (recitation of the vows) rang out quickly.

Oh! I'm left behind, daydreaming all the time. Wait for the imam, don't leave the congregation!