Accompany Me to Die
Moving House

Nayla pulls her suitcase lazily, she looks back, staring at the house she had lived in since childhood with her parents. 

"Nailla,"

The girl with the shoulder-length brownish curls turned towards the bespectacled man waiting for her to get into the car. 

"Should we move, huh?" his face was prying and hoping that his father would cancel his intention.

"Yes, do you want to live here alone?"

Nayla shook her head weakly, once again she looked at her beloved house to see it one last time before getting into the car. For Nayla the house is full of wonderful memories, but also painful memories. And so did my father feel.

The longer the stay at home the more his heart aches considering the death of his wife. Nuraini, the woman he married twenty-five years ago, was killed. Nuraini was finished by hanging and on her wrist was an elongated incision wound. Even worse, there were also signs of rape on his body.

Their only son and daughter, Nayla is shocked to see the woman they love so much dead. To date who Nuraini's killer has not been revealed. The killer would have vanished into the ground, but the police suspect the perpetrator was motivated by revenge.

Nayla wiped her tears and looked at the house that was getting away from the rearview mirror of the car. The son rubbed Nayla's shoulders to calm his daughter down.

"Ikhlasin Nay, we start a new life somewhere else."

Nayla took a deep breath and smiled wryly. "May we can,"

Far away from the little heart of Nayla, he doubted her words. The shadow of Nuraini's death still haunting him felt more real with the appearance of a figure that resembles Nuraini.

At first Nayla felt it was just a feeling of longing for the mother but over time the figure of Nuraini incarnated in real, flashing, silent sculpting, and walking through one space to another in front of Nayla.

Although present in the figure is not creepy but the face without expression and blank stare it makes the fur of Nayla crushes. There was never a word that came out of Nuraini's ghostly mouth, she just stared and cried occasionally. 

Nayla never once told him about it with her father, Nayla was afraid that the father would get worse. After the death of the wife, the son changed a little. He becomes quiet and often Nayla finds herself crying at night.

One night Nayla hears her father crying, her hands clutching a family photo taken during Nayla's graduation as a young doctor. However, when Nayla was about to approach the figure of Nuraini was beside her father. Nayla clamped down and set off the intention to approach. The figure that resembles his mother rubbed the Son's shoulder. After that creepy night, Nayla no longer dared to approach if she heard the sound of her father's cry at night.

"Nay, how come? Relax there are many who are your age. There is his son mbok Dar who you can later play around the village. I've ordered the same symbok let his son take care of you."

"Hhmm, yes." Nayla answered lazily, she refused to talk and chose to look straight ahead.

Doctor Putra Kuncoro, Nayla's father continues to talk to his daughter along the way. Unfortunately, Nayla's mind drifted far away to other places. Nayla actually disagrees with Putra's plan to move to another city. His feeling was bad when his father indicated the location where work would be staying.

Sensitive born Nayla felt a strange thing just by looking at the photo at a glance.

'May my feeling be wrong.'

The journey to the new residence feels la and boring, it has been almost two hours the Putra doctor's car walked through the quiet and foggy streets. A village on the slopes of Mount Slamet.

"Well, it's still far?" Nayla grew tired of their journey even though along the left right of the road was treated to beautiful views from the vegetable garden and also the beautiful Pine forest.

"After the forest has come."

"Ooh," Nayla answered briefly and then fell silent again.

It was still day but black clouds were seen marching in the sky. Not long ago a speck of rain drenched the road, evaporating the distinctive aroma of the soil refreshing. Nayla opens a little windowpanes of the car letting the wet aroma of her rain and damp woods burst in tempting Indra to her kiss.

"Well that's our new home, Nay!"

"Have you finally arrived at this dock in our village?!" greet the man named Agus whose name is neatly sewn in his khaki clothes.

"The late fathers of all, yes, Mr. Agus Alhamdulillah I arrived safely."

"Let's go in and rest first," the striated woman approached Nayla and Putra politely, she helped bring Nayla's bag of clothes.

"Ohya Nay, this is Dar you told me about on the street. He's gonna help us out here, take care of the house and take care of everything." The son introduced the figure of mbok Dar to Nayla.

"I'm sorry mbok ngerepotin,"

"Ah, mboten mbak! Hayuk comes in, still drizzle later his head hurts."

Nayla nodded and smiled, but she still stood there. The girl barreled as pretty as the morning sun was sweeping around. Nayla's new house looks quite large and also seems haunted. The lush bamboo tree looks creepy on the right side of the yard, the sound of friction leaves blown by the wind sounds so sinister in Nayla's ears.

In front of the house there is a wooden sign bearing the official house. Nayla sighed again, she stared at the lime-roofed house. 

"Do I feel at home here? Seram terribly, where the neighbors far away again." he murmured softly.

Indeed, the distance between the official house with other residents' houses is slightly far apart but there are at least two small houses on the right side of the main house that are similar to rented tenement houses. Nayla hopes the house is inhabited so that she does not feel lonely.

"You're the son of the Son's doctor?" a male voice greeted Nayla from behind.

"Eh, yes. You who?" 

"I, Hardcore his son mbok Dar." the sweet black youth extended his hand to Nayla.

Nayla did not immediately welcome Hardcore's hand, she noticed Rigid from top to bottom. Shorts and black t-shirts, barefooted and in his left hand holding a large grass cutter scissors.

Feeling noticed, Hardcore smiled wryly, "I'm sorry, my hands are dirty. Just clean the weeds in front of there, let it be neat and not be a nest of snakes."

Tegar rubbed his hands onto the shirt and stuck it out again. "It's clean, you can contact, right?" the loud whirring made Nayla chuckle.

"Yes no need to do that also mas Tegar, sorry yes I do not mean you that. I'm just surprised." Nayla welcomes Hardcore's hand, and something strange happens.

Nayla felt a strange air ambush her instantly as their hands touched. The face of Hardcore and her running self, the villagers and torches, a creepy old house, and the woman with the red cloth dangled around her neck.

The woman stood her back to Nayla and quickly turned to look at Nayla. His face was hideous, full of blood and gaping wounds on the neck. He opened his mouth wide as if shouting at her.

Nayla gasped in shock as she was thrown from the time-dimensional vortex that hurt her body. His breath was short and his heart was racing. 

"Nay, Nayla! What's up, hey you why?!" the loud voice resuscitated and pulled Nayla back to the real world.

"Astaghfirullah Al adzim ..," the beautiful girl held her chest tight. 

'What was that? I see the future again? Or just a flashback of the events experienced by Tegar?'

"You sick? Your face is pale, let's go into the house."

Hardcore without a stale immediately pulled Nayla's hand, there was no rejection from the girl. Because Nayla herself was wondering what she had just experienced. Is it an illusion or a warning of the future?