It's been a week since Heri disappeared without a trace. The police couldn't find anything except for the testimony of the owner of the shop who said that Heri left around the time of the dawn prayer. Around Heri's house, there were still a few people trying to help find him. Usually, they would gather at noon and discuss whatever they had discovered. However, the continued lack of results made the number of people searching for Heri dwindle.
Seeing this, Heri's mother decided to search for her son on her own. In the scorching heat of the midday sun, she walked aimlessly, searching for anything that could lead her to her son. Along the way, she kept calling his name.
"Heri, my son. Come home, dear." Her soft voice made anyone who heard it feel the sadness of Heri's mother.
She walked on until she reached a vacant house about 250 meters from their own home. Her steps halted when she sensed something from within. There was a foul smell in the air. Around this area, there weren't many houses—only tall trees and wild grass—making it harder for the odor to be detected by others.
As if drawn by something, that middle-aged woman, with her hair tied messily, entered the house. With no light inside, she had to turn on the flashlight on her phone. The old, abandoned house, with its crumbling walls, created an eerie atmosphere.
The foul smell grew stronger as she ventured further into the house. She illuminated every corner until her steps halted upon finding a large suitcase. She approached it and was sure that the foul odor was coming from there.
It was strange—a suitcase that looked still in good condition, in such a neglected place. But there was something else that caught Heri's mother's attention. On the suitcase, there was a piece of paper attached. She read it. Her heart almost stopped when she saw her son's name on the paper.
'Heri Pratama'
No, this was not her son's suitcase. She had never bought this suitcase. Bad thoughts crept into her mind, accompanied by the increasingly pungent smell. Her breath caught as she drew closer. Her trembling legs could no longer hold her weight, and she collapsed right next to the suitcase. Her shaking hand reached out to unzip it.
The elderly woman never imagined she would find herself in this situation. She couldn't deny that she was terrified and wanted to leave. But what was inside the suitcase, she had to make sure of, so her heart could find peace.
Tears flowed even before she realized it. Her lips trembled as she prayed to God that her fears were wrong. That what she had imagined was not true. She even promised that she would become a better person if God granted her wish.
Slowly, she unzipped the suitcase. Half-open, the woman could already see a pair of legs—dirty and covered in scars. A hoarse scream escaped her lips. She couldn't accept the reality in front of her.
The stench grew even stronger, yet it didn't stop the mother from opening the suitcase wider. She never imagined that the child she had cared for since birth would now be lying lifeless. Even to embrace her child, the woman had to summon all her strength.
Her loud sobs attracted the attention of the nearby villagers. One by one, people started to arrive and witness the scene. Some vomited, while others tried to comfort the woman.
Finally, a mother found her child, but at what cost?
"My child." The tight embrace couldn't separate the mother from her son. She refused to let go, even as people tried to pull her away from the corpse. "Come on, let's go home, dear. Mama will cook your favorite food later."
The woman knew her child was no longer alive, but she still hoped for a miracle from God. Maybe, by talking to her son, he would wake up. "You don't have to work anymore, just focus on school, okay, dear? Forgive me, your poor mother. Please, wake up. Let's go home."
The villagers who heard the mother's words couldn't hold back their tears. No one tried to separate them anymore. Everyone stood in silence, shedding tears of sorrow.
When Heri's father arrived, the first thing he saw was his wife, trying to talk to their son's lifeless body. His world seemed to shatter in front of him. Slowly, he walked towards his wife and gently stroked her shoulder.
The man tried to stay strong, though his chest ached to see his son's condition. With tears held back, he softly said, "Dear, let go of Heri, okay?"
"No, my child is all alone." The woman's embrace tightened. "Let's go home and cook Heri's favorite food."
"Heri is gone." With great effort and a gentle voice, Heri's father tried to convince his wife to let go of their son. Even though the man also needed someone to do the same for him, he tried to remain strong. Because if he wasn't the one to hold the family together, no one else would.
In exchange, he hugged his wife and tried to comfort her once again. Tears fell, and through their embrace, they drew strength from one another.
***
The sound of the Qur'an recitation echoed throughout the house. Alongside it, the cries of the victim's family could be heard. Heri's body was taken for an autopsy, and now many people had gathered.
Selin and Karin were also there. Their eyes were swollen from crying. Several students from both Heri's class and other classes had come. Everyone was in mourning. All were saddened by the loss.
Karin glanced at Heri's mother, who sat silently like a statue in the corner of the room. People around her had initially tried to engage her in conversation, but there was no response. In the end, they just stayed with Heri's mother, keeping her company to make sure she didn't do anything unintended.
Then there was Selin beside her, still crying, unable to accept the reality. She had initially joined in reciting Al-Fatihah with the other guests, but Selin couldn't continue and only cried again.
Karin looked outside, where people continued to arrive in their black attire. There, she saw Mr. Ali talking to Heri's father. His expression was sad, and he seemed to be trying to offer some encouragement to Heri's father. Occasionally, Mr. Ali could also be seen helping to manage the flow of people entering and leaving the house.
Karin shot him a glare. She was firmly convinced that the man had something to do with the murder. Anger built up inside her, but she struggled to keep it under control. She couldn't be angry with him because she didn't have enough evidence. On the other hand, she was also afraid of him.
However, her fear of Mr. Ali grew stronger. She couldn't look at him for more than three seconds because the longer she stared, the more a sense of dread and nausea filled her.
Karin didn't know when she would ever be free from this fear.