The Secret Story of My Life

At first I never noticed, a long-haired girl who always stole my sight. Every time I look into her eyes she always turns her gaze as if not looking at me. Knowing it I just smiled no matter I thought, "ah kids, whatever is on his mind"

My routine after work is to pick up my son tutoring lessons. Sometimes I wait for the tutoring, sitting on the verandah reading a book. The boy always sat in front of the bench I was sitting on. As usual, he stole my sight and I did not care.

"Papaaa" I was startled by a small voice I knew very well, my son came out of the classroom and then half ran towards me with a piece of paper in his hand.
"I'm best in math class, it's trying to see my exam results" he exclaimed cheerfully, my heart was washed with a very cool water. I hugged and kissed her chubby cheeks with a bit of a bitter bite.
"Aaahhh, papa always bit my cheek" protest
"Good boy !! It's just a cool little daddy, keep it darling "I hugged him tightly
"A bowl of special chicken porridge, one large glass of cold chocolate, and a bite on the cheek so a gift for you" I said while looking into the eyes of my round glowing heart.
"Do not want ah bored ..." he cried with laughter.
"Okay, what about a big plate of fried chicken with cream soup plus strawberry juice and a bite on the cheek? Deal? "I offered
"DEALLL !!" she exclaimed cheerfully as she embraced me. "With 1 piece of brown creeps" she asked hopefully.
I nodded a smile, and she laughed happily.



I did not realize that a pair of eyes were watching our activities. The eyes looked teary. The little girl was crying? Why?
I was curious, along the way to my son's quintrogation house, "Who's that little girl? Why is he so mysterious? "I told myself.

His name turned out to be Fasya, he was not classmate with my son in the place and his class first broke up but the boy was always sitting on the veranda like waiting for someone to pick him up, but according to my son no one ever picked him and when all the class broke up he just went home, so every day.

Last night I had hardly closed my eyes, the shadow of that long-haired girl dancing in my eyelids. Why is she crying for no reason? I want time to pass, I want to meet the girl, it seems there is a longing that jerked in my chest. Luckily my wife had gone to bed then, otherwise she would have wondered "What are you thinking? Is there more trouble in the office? "Because lately there is a lot of trouble in the office where I work.

The next day as usual I picked up my son, this time I came half an hour early to get acquainted with the long-haired girl. And sure enough when I got there, the little girl's eyes lit up, her lips half smiling, I sat next to her while pretending to read a book. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him watching me, I turned, he was shocked and embarrassed and then I gave my sweetest smile and moved my dad near him.

Haii "I say to her. "Waiting to be picked up? What's your name? "I continued.
"Fasya, Ayahh" he said cheerfully.
I was surprised, he called me father? This is the first time there is a child I have not known called me as father, all friends of my son called me as om or Papa Faiz because my son's name is Faiz. But I do not want to upset him, then I smile.

Fasya chattered happily, introduced herself as a true champion at her school, three years in a row to win the championship, got a scholarship and she was also good at dancing so recently she was selected to be the best child dancer in her dance studio, she is good at painting, swimming and a myriad of achievements other and the most disturbing of my conscience he said he hobby writing, he often makes short stories and poetry.

Hearing the story, I smiled half disbelievingly. Such a small child with a myriad of accomplishments, hmm that might just be a fantasy, a boy's hallucination. But then I was surprised when he showed me the photographs that were excluded from his book inserts that included his dance, swimming, painting and other dance and photos he was holding some trophies. "This is not a fantasy, not a hallucination, he's a great kid." I told myself.

"Fasya, your parents would be proud to have a child like you" I said to her, but a moment later her sparkling eyes turned to tears as she bowed her head.
"It should be so" he muttered a little barely audible.
I was shocked when the bell of the classroom broke up and many of my child's age children scattered out of the classroom, I was not focused on Fasya because my little hero had stood upright in front of me.

"A bowl of chicken porridge with a large glass of cold chocolate and not bite on the cheek, I want !!" he shouted loudly.
I laughed as he ruffled his hair
"What achievements did you make today?" I asked.
"Nothing" he replied.
"How dare you ask for a special chicken porridge wage?"
"My cool, nice daddy may not refuse my request," he said confidently.
"Let's have a bowl of chicken porridge and a glass of chocolate waiting for you, assault !!"
My son laughed happily to hear it, I went from the porch bench and walked then I was surprised when a pair of small hands pulled my sleeve.

"Father I have something for you, this" said Fasya while thrusting a large brown envelope commonly used for job applications.
My son Faiz glared at Fasya while saying "how dare you call Daddy to my daddy, this is my daddy, it's mine"
I also closed her mouth surprised, this child has a great jealousy like her mama.
"Thanks Fasya" I smiled at him. Fasya then ran out the gate, no one picked her up. So why is he every day for almost an hour sitting on the veranda? I have no idea.

Tonight I can not even close my eyes, because Fasya, because the parcel for me. It turns out that brown envelope contains his writings, a very touching story of the heart. It's about being lonely, needing love.
Talk about the poor fasya, disappointed that both his father and his mother divorced, because that is definitely because the mother who is easy to fall in love and have a boyfriend everywhere, of all ages and circles. Married again without his father's knowledge, leaving Fasya. While his father who feels hurt work with a myriad of activities and work outdoors. Fasya neglected, Fasya trying desperately to reunite his parents by giving a myriad of achievements that he achieved. Unfortunately everything he did did not work.

Speaking of Fasya I am the person who is referred to as the Good Heart Dad in his short story, in sentence by sentence he uses. He always watched my movements as I picked up my son Faiz and joked with him. The words I used for my son were vividly recorded in his mind. One simple poem that made my heart feel slashed is about jealousy for the attention I always give to my son, Faiz. Because Faiz has me, and a final sentence that makes my tears unstoppable is. "Every day I always want to meet Good Daddy's Heart, see his smile even though it's not a smile for me. Good Heart Dad never realized that I also love him. I want to hug my Good Heart Dad and cry loudly in his lap "

Fasya, I am fast as time passes until tonight is changing morning, afternoon and then evening, and then i can meet with you. Want to hug your little body, cry as hard as I can on my lap. Fasya, I want to share, share the love I have. You may have Fasya, until one day your father and mother reunite and you will not need me anymore.