Chereads / Whisper of the Harbinger / Chapter 7 - Grandmother House

Chapter 7 - Grandmother House

"Just... usual, I guess," I replied, not wanting to divulge the unsettling events of the day.

"Did you take your medication today?"

"The schizophrenia pills?" I clarified, a bitter taste rising in my mouth.

"Yes, the Haloperidol."

"No, actually..." I confessed, my voice trailing off.

Of course, I hadn't taken them. Now that I knew the shadowy figure wasn't a hallucination, there was no point in poisoning myself with unnecessary medication.

"Why not?" Uncle Antony inquired, a concerned look on his face.

"Well... I forgot," I lied, opting for the simplest explanation.

"Anyway..." Uncle Antony started, his voice breaking the silence.

I turned to look at him, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.

"Graduation is coming up soon, isn't it?" he continued, his eyes on the road.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "Next year I'll be in twelfth grade, and then I'll graduate."

"So... have you thought about becoming a civil servant?" he asked, echoing my father's earlier question.

"Umm... I'm still not sure," I admitted. "What kind of work do you do as a civil servant, Uncle?"

"Well, I'm in the Ministry of Transportation," he explained. "I'm a manager at a few train stations."

"Train stations..." I mused, imagining the bustling platforms and the rhythmic clatter of the trains.

"Yeah, it's a bit boring, but it pays well, haha!" Uncle Antony chuckled.

"A steady government job, good benefits..." Uncle Antony continued, his voice trailing off as he sensed my lack of interest. "You could even work at a station near our house. It would be convenient for everyone."

I nodded absently, the prospect of a stable, predictable future seeming less appealing than the unfolding mysteries surrounding me.

"It's something to consider," I mumbled, not wanting to be rude but unable to muster enthusiasm for the topic.

Uncle Antony glanced at me, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Or perhaps," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you have your sights set on something a bit more... exciting?"

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "Oh, nothing. Just a feeling. You've always been a bit different, Xian Ying. I have a feeling you're destined for great things."

Seizing the opportunity, I decided to probe a little further. "Speaking of different... I wanted to ask you about my grandfather. Dad mentioned that he was into... spiritual things?"

"Ah, yes," Uncle Antony nodded. "Your grandfather was quite the collector of odd artifacts. Old swords, kris daggers, animal skulls... all sorts of things. He even claimed he could talk to spirits."

"Talk to spirits?" I echoed, my heart skipping a beat.

"Yes! Just like you used to say you could see ghosts," Uncle Antony laughed. "But, of course, we all know that was just your... schizophrenia acting up."

I felt a pang of irritation at his dismissive tone.

If only he knew the truth.

But what happened to all his collections?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation back to my grandfather's peculiar hobby. "Where are they now?"

"They're still at your grandmother's house," Uncle Antony replied.

"Oh, she's still alive?" I asked, surprised.

I hadn't seen my grandmother in years.

"Of course she is!" Uncle Antony exclaimed, his tone slightly offended. "What kind of question is that? Do you want her to be dead?"

"N-No!" I quickly clarified. "I'm just... glad she's still alive."

"Hmph," Uncle Antony grunted, seemingly appeased. "Well, if you want to see the collection, we can swing by her house. It's not far from here."

"Really?" My heart skipped a beat. "I'd love to see it."

He nodded and veered the car onto a different road, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perhaps you'll even inherit some of those strange artifacts one day," he chuckled.

I smiled back, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling within me. The prospect of connecting with my grandfather's legacy, however strange it might be, held an undeniable appeal.

The car veered onto a narrower, winding road, lined with lush greenery and traditional Javanese houses. The scenery was a welcome distraction from the unsettling thoughts that swirled in my mind.

After a short drive, we pulled up to a modest house with a terracotta tiled roof and a well-maintained garden. It was a typical Indonesian home, exuding warmth and a sense of history.

"Here we are," Uncle Antony announced, parking the car in the driveway. "Your grandmother's humble abode."

I stepped out of the car, taking in the sight of the house with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, reminding me of the few visits I had made here as a young child.

Uncle Antony led the way to the front door, knocking gently. A few moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a small, elderly woman with silver hair and kind eyes.

"Antony! What a pleasant surprise! And who is this young man with you?" she exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"Ibu, This is Xian Ying, your grandson. Remember?"

[A/N: Ibu = Mother]

My grandmother's eyes lit up with recognition. "Xian Ying!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a warm embrace. "Oh, how you've grown! It's been so long."

I hugged her back, feeling a sense of comfort and belonging. Despite the strangeness of the day's events, the warmth of my grandmother's welcome grounded me in the present moment.

"Come inside, come inside," she urged, ushering us into the house. "I'll make some tea."

As I stepped into the house, my eyes were immediately drawn to the myriad of strange and intriguing objects that adorned the walls and shelves. Animal skulls, antique weapons, intricately carved masks... my grandfather's collection was truly a sight to behold.

"So," Uncle Antony said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What do you think of your grandfather's treasures, Xian Ying?"

"It... makes me shiver," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

"Haha! Well, it is what it is," Uncle Antony laughed. "I was terrified when I was young too, especially when he brought home that skull." He pointed to a sheep skull hanging on the wall, its hollow eyes seeming to follow my every move.

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