I promptly went home, disregarding Mail and Nana's invitation to the movies. Not because I didn't want to join them, but I wasn't ready to encounter another figure if it meant returning home late, especially when that entity is also visible during the day and among crowds. Being able to see what others cannot - a "gift" I was not born with - certainly does not bring me comfort.
My room represents the epitome of safety when fear grips me. I believe those figures will not appear in my room since it's a place where I often pray. I also regularly play holy verses there.
"You're already home, dear," my mother greeted me.
"Mm," I replied, letting myself fall onto the sofa next to her as she was engrossed in the television.
"Have you eaten yet?" she inquired, not shifting her gaze from the screen.
"Not yet, Mom. I came straight home. Nana and Mail asked me to go to the mall."
Mom finally glanced at me, "Why didn't you go with them? Better than staying home, or you might want to keep me company watching this," she pointed to the Indian soap opera on the TV.
"Really not in the mood, Mom. I'd rather play games."
Mom chuckled. "Eat something first then. Auntie has made your favorite chicken and mushroom soup. I also prepared a dessert box, it's in the fridge."
"Great, you truly are the best mother ever," I said before kissing her cheek and hurrying to the kitchen, to the fridge precisely, to grab one of the dessert boxes made by mom and savor it.
"Miss Yura, did you say bismillah before eating?" Auntie reprimanded, busy arranging the clean dishes on the rack.
"Oh, not sure if I did. I forgot," I responded, continuing to spoon mom's dessert that absolutely pampered my taste buds.
"You should say the prayer before eating or drinking, so you're not joined by demons," Auntie exclaimed.
Bang.
"Good gracious, Yura, you're just startling Auntie."
Crouched down, I stared at the dessert spilled from the box because it slipped from my hand. At Auntie's mention of demons, I smiled and glanced towards the back door where Auntie and the other housekeepers dried the laundry; that figure stood there. The presence I'd seen frequently over the past few days. Weakness washed over my legs, too frail to even stand.
"Let it be, I'll clean this up," Auntie said, joining me on the floor. It wasn't that I was spoiled or lazy to avoid clearing up my own mess, but with shaking body and wobbly legs, it felt incredibly difficult to move. I slowly turned back towards the door. The figure had vanished, I breathed a sigh of relief, and my body felt lighter so I sat directly on the floor.
"Why are you sitting here? Go on, if you want more dessert, take another and eat properly. Why sit on the floor?" Auntie commented.
"Auntie... I have a question."
"What is it?" Auntie kept mopping the floor while I managed to stand up.
"Have you ever seen things that are invisible to the naked eye?"
Auntie paused her movements, then turned to me. From her reaction, I knew she understood my question.
"Don't talk about those things, they might come."
"I am not talking, I am asking. Have you seen anything or..."
"Yura!"
I heard my mother calling from the living area. "Let's continue this later, Auntie," I said, casting a glance toward the door before leaving the kitchen.
"Yes, Mom," I responded, reclining on the sofa with my mom's lap serving as a pillow.
"Dear, I'm planning to visit a sick friend. Would you come with me?" Mom asked.
"Where to?" I said, eyes closed. Mom stroked my head affectionately.
"To Husada Hospital."
"Yikes," I exclaimed, sitting upright. "The hospital, Mom?"
"Yes."
The prospect of accompanying Mom to the hospital was daunting, not because of the place itself but because my first paranormal encounter happened in a hospital, though a different one from where Mom intended to go.
"Maybe Dad can go with you instead?" I suggested, reluctant to outright refuse her.
"Your father's busy, he'll be home late, swamped with work."
"Or maybe we can wait until your friend is discharged and then visit her at home," I continued providing alternatives and excuses, essentially declining Mom's request to accompany her to the hospital.
Eventually, I capitulated and ascended to my second-floor bedroom, freshened up, and improved my already confident appearance (overconfidence, one could say), then descended to the main floor.
"Mom, let's go. It will be sunset soon," I called out.
My urgency was not without reason; as dusk descends, the entities begin to roam, surely unsettling the peaceful beating of my heart with their eerie appearances, not to mention the mental strain, as panic and fear overwhelm me while others around remain unperturbed.
"Mom..." I called again, more loudly.
Not long after, Mom emerged from her room. "What's the rush that you're shouting? You didn't want to go earlier, and now you can't wait."
"Good deeds should not be delayed," I replied curtly, drawing the car key from my sling bag. Opting to drive ourselves, as riding a motorbike or taking a taxi was out of the question - mom would wonder why I didn't use my own vehicle and preferred public transport. With Mom, I felt safe from any harsh interactions with the specters.
Finally, we arrived at the hospital and went straight to her friend's VIP hospital room. Affluent individuals typically reside in such quarters. My mother addressed her friend affectionately, "Jeng Broto," a name indicative of noble heritage.
"Here we are, Anyelir three," Mom said, then knocked and greeted. I followed silently. While Mom and Mrs. Broto immersed in conversation, foreign to my interests, I simply listened, offering smiles and my name upon introduction by Mom.
Seeking refuge from boredom, I excused myself to wait outside.
"Don't go far," Mom advised.
"Your daughter was here, but she stepped out, probably to the cafeteria," Mrs. Broto mentioned, and they resumed their engrossing chat.
I wandered to the garden, face to face with Mrs. Broto's room, and found solace in a bench, gazing at the almost darkening sky. The traffic jam on the way to the hospital foreshadowed a late journey home.
Huft.
I sighed softly. Suddenly, an unusual chill climbed one of my legs, despite the absence of a breeze. I looked down, shocked by the sight of one of my legs grasped by a long-nailed, blackened hand. I withdrew my leg instantly and fled back to Mrs. Broto's room, sneaking a glance at the bench where the creature still lay underneath. When I faced forward...
Thud.
"Ow." I stopped and rubbed my forehead. I had run into someone, my head colliding with their nose.
"Watch where you're going," the man I bumped scolded.
"You walk with your feet," I countered.
"But you should use your eyes, too," he shot back. I looked up to confront his sour expression, our eyes clashing, "You?" I uttered.
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