In between the lunch break, which can be said to be not a break because of the short time given, Gala can still be grateful that there is an opportunity to block her stomach. Although this time, the stomach that used to hold hunger was not as usual. Whether Gala should be grateful or what is clear, today, Gala seems to have been sentenced to more than just bad luck.
Or is it just the opposite?
Lucky?
Gala doesn't know whether this is called luck or disaster, wrapped in joy this morning while eating various food on the table. Later. Later he would think about where all this came from. None of the neighbors in the flat were too lovely. Everything is normal; even more often, add to Gala's list of bad luck.
However.
Gala choked violently when she had just chewed on her chicken pieces without caring where all the food in the refrigerator and the dinner table came from. Hunger makes his brain smaller to think. Moreover, his stomach immediately rebelled strongly, asking to be filled because he had eaten very little since yesterday. Hastily he downed the water on the table, almost half the drinking jar, which this time had its contents. Usually never. His eyes blinked repeatedly and rubbed harshly because he was afraid. What was in his eyes now was a lie.
The shadow of the girl was there again. This time was sitting right in front of him and smiling even though it was stiff. His facial and body movements are like robots, but Gala is not sure.
"Master like my cooking?"
Oh, Lord! What other craziness is going on in Gala's life? Can hologram girls cook? Impossible!
"Who are you?!" Gala pushed her chair quickly. The chicken in his hand had the same fate as it seemed. So shocked earlier that he just threw it at the girl. The sound of the end of the chair rubbing against the narrow kitchen floor clashed loudly. Makes a pretty annoying sound. What came to Gala's mind was a kitchen knife. Where does he keep it? Drawer? Top shelf? Refrigerator?
He searched all the places that came to his mind but to no avail. The sharp object wasn't there. It doesn't matter if what I do causes a commotion in the kitchen.
"Master what are you looking for?"
The tremors in Gala's body began to creep. "Please, go," she desperately. There's no knife. He just can't take care of himself. "Don't bother me," he pleaded.
"Annoying sir? Who?"
Gala did not dare to step. He did not move an inch. Choose to cling to the wall near the refrigerator. Her heart was pounding harder, and a cold sweat began to rule on her forehead. "Ja-don't come close." Her eyes were wet with tears, and the work on her forehead worsened. What else …
The hologram girl has been moving since asking who is bothering Gala. His eyes stared at Gala without any expression even though the young man had seen him smile, even though it felt like he was just being pulled to the corner of his lip.
"Who's bothering you?"
"Go!" In the remaining courage, Gala had, she screamed a little. Never in his life had he encountered anything like this. Is this what other people often say? Curious female ghost? Where does it come from? Didn't Gala remember that interested spirits went from the cemetery in the stories she had heard? He had never passed through the cemetery area so far. But why was Gala being targeted?
Gala has nothing but bad luck.
Dice was silent, tilting his face slightly. Think. He didn't move his approach to Gala anymore. "How do I go, sir? While for so many years I waited for this day?"
"W-what do you mean?"
"Master can you talk to?"
Gala did not dare to speak.
"Sir? if you can, sit down and enjoy the breakfast. And I will tell you who I am."
"Ghost?"
Dice's frown deepened. "Ghost? What is a ghost?"
"So you're not a ghost?"
Dice shook his head stiffly. "I am technology based on human intelligence. No one orders me except the owner of the Dice."
Gala started to lower her alert level a bit. "Dice owner? So… do you have one?"
The holographic girls nodded quickly.
"B-but?" Gala is at a loss for words because everything is getting more senseless. If only the hologram girl said she was a ghost, maybe Gala's mind could still accept it. But now? "Is there such a thing in the world?"
"Master can you sit down?"
"But… but you're not going to hurt me, are you?"
Dice smiled stiffly. "Not. You are my employer. Your words are a must for me."
"Employer?" Gala was flabbergasted.
"Right. You are my employer. The owner of the Dice you touched last night to set me free."
"Crazy," he muttered under his breath. "This is impossible."
"Let's talk, sir."
Then slowly, with steps that occasionally glanced at the girl, Gala finally dragged her chair back. This time in slow motion. Not too annoying squeaks. Gala took a long time to pay attention to the girl. Go up and down to ensure that his eyes are not just catching illusions. This girl in front of him does seem to exist, but…
"So… tell me who are you?"
Dice began to tell where he was formed. The technology that makes it already exceeds the sophistication of existing technology today. Made for a specific purpose but can only be opened by people with particular blood. The dice he had been in during the search—in this case, looking for Gala—could identify all the information about the rightful owner.
Only one person can open it. Instruct. Ask him anything—the creator of Dice, Xavier Horratio.
Gala was shocked to hear this. "Xa-Xavier?"
"That's right, sir. Your father was my creator and I was entrusted with the search for his son's whereabouts in the South. It took a dozen years to find you."
The young man snorted loudly, even to the point of spitting. "I don't have a father named Xavier."
"The data in my memory is still good and very accurate regarding you, sir. You were born February 02 2100 with a birthmark right on the groin. It is black in color but may have started to fade with age. You were born at a time when your parents were full of love. Harmonious family. Your mother, Bellamie Rosaline, was a gentle and loving woman. Love you so much."
Gala clenched tightly. His jaw tightened. The image of his mother, who just left when he was ten years old, is still vivid in his eyes. He repeatedly asked what was wrong, and no one could ever answer because his mother did have the answer. He also had to accept a lot of ridicule and ridicule that questioned and labeled him an unlucky child—abandoned by his mother and father somewhere.
Only a flat that he lived with money that somehow could be enough for him to live until he graduated with primary education.
There were certain days and nights when he missed his mother very much. Hearing this holographic girl talk about his family made Gala spin the memory chips about the meaning of family in her unlucky life. When he was little, there was a man with a giant stature who he called father. Gala is often invited to the park to buy candy. If her mother had known, Gala would have been scolded at that time.
Sometimes they go swimming together, shop for fruit at the market in the middle of the city, and ride a bicycle around where Gala sits behind her mother.
Then… those sweet memories ended. When the well-built man left, his mother reasoned, and his father worked. But until his mother left him, the man never came back.