The Price of Virginity
Losing His Holiness

I looked back at the mirror, the picture of the real self, without the colorful falsehoods that stick to the skin of the face.

Not changing the shape, just changing the look of the face. Beautiful indeed, does not mean to praise yourself, but for me is not the time. My life is surrounded by people wearing masks

pretending happy. Smile spoiled, joke, and laugh, then tease every man who has never even been seen and known at all.

Yeah...." I really know, if they masked outer beauty just to cover the deepest pain and grief.

It is not visible, but the pain of the heart is difficult to heal.

I often see, my friends cry.

Sad to be born without ever knowing the figure of parents.

Missing those who have never been seen, sometimes fantasized.

What is the tenderness and warmth of a mother's caress.

A father's embrace of protection and affection.

We just want to feel, just once in life, the feeling of being loved, by those who make us exist in this world. But it seems impossible.

Why is life so evil to us? A question most often posed by Asmah and other fellows. Forced to sacrifice honor and self-esteem torn apart, only to be able to continue breathing. Fate has made no other choice for us.

"Hopefully, fate opens up opportunities for my life in other ways, whatever, as long as not as a prostitute," I hope, momentarily awakened from daydreaming. Swallow for a moment, and wash your face again.

"I like my face like this" said Bathin. While looking at yourself in front of the mirror.

"Am I really smart?" the praise of Om Darmawan just now. So far, she's been nice, and treated me politely. I hope my instincts are not wrong with him.

"Tok-tok-tok ... Mirah, Amira! Open the door for a second." The sound of knocking on the door and the call from Om Darmawan, startled me, made me a little frightened.

" I-yes, Om! A minute!" I answered, slowly approaching. Fear is getting worse.

Stop, stunned behind the door.

"What's it gonna take, Om?" my question, from the side of the door instead, is to make sure.

"Open it up, just for a second." Start knocking on the door again, although it sounds slow.

"Are you okay, Mir?" the sound of Om Darmawan sounded like worry, wanted to make sure my kedaan.

"I'm fine, Om." Jemari grasped the door handle, the trembling of my body felt.

"Open, briefly!" yells.

"Lick." I open the door slowly. Not daring to look at his face, bowed deeply, my body still felt trembling. Just surrender with whatever happens, can only do it, give in to the circumstances.

Om Darmawan thrust at me, like thick clothes folded neatly.

"Change your clothes, it can hurt if you still wear clothes like that" he said. "Take it!" little pressing.

I raised my face slowly, looking at Om Darmawan, while receiving the clothes he was wearing. He was a little flabbergasted when he saw me.

"Without this make-up, your face looks more beautiful and fresh" she said.

"Wait in the living room." Turn around, leave me.

"Good, Om." Just keep walking without looking, I closed the door again, and started to change clothes.

Om Darmawan was still sitting in his seat when I returned to the living room, with a sweater-like outfit that had been given by him. His body leaned casually on the back of the chair and his hands were attached to the handle, crossed his legs on the other leg while sucking his cigarette slowly, looking very gallant, his carriage was calm. The middle-aged man with the face still looked handsome. Gets a moment after I pass it, and sits back on the bench right in front of him.

Seen in his gaze, making me groggy and restless, playing fingers is the way out trying to neutralize nervousness. Om Darmawan was silent, still enjoying his cigarette, just kept paying attention, like he was estimating the price of an item on display. The moment it dawned, the grown man who knew about my existence here would definitely assume that.

Just a display item in a storefront.

Om Darmawan again took the map on the table, and began to look seriously pay attention to sheet by page, occasionally seen nodding his head in a shudder, no matter what he meant, then put the map back.

"That's what map, Om?" I dare to ask him. Looking at the moment, a faint smile adorned his face.

"Proposal of cooperation." He answered, then took a cup of tea and drank it slowly.

"What's the proposal, Om?" ask again. Laugh at him, with dimples visible on his right.

"When will the answer." The more he laughed.

"What did they say when they told you to meet me?" I was silent, thinking for a moment, to remember.

"Give good service, and don't disappoint, Om" I replied, as it were.

Back Om Darmawan laughed, much louder, even to the point of coughing.

"So stupid as you are, Amira." While standing, and re-entered the room inside, then returned with a few maps in hand, and put them on the map of the proposal I brought.

"All these proposals, just like you brought, Amira. Offering cooperation with the company where I work," he said, then took one of the maps, like he wanted to explain something to me.

"Map this one, just till this afternoon. Women are also like you, more professional like him, because obviously more daring to flirt, even to the point of undressing, crazy!" while slamming the map on the table, "i drove him raw without saying much!" A little loud in his tone.

"But somehow, the same thing I can't do to you" he said slowly, very slowly, almost inaudibly.

He quietly heard his words, but I am sure, although he said slowly, he also wanted me to listen to his words.

"What should I do with you, Amira?" ask Om Darmawan. Confused it feels like I have to answer like what, in fact I have never spoken to the opposite sex during and as much as this, with Auntie Sissi was just often listening to her tell stories without asking much. I was afraid to re-pronounce a plea to him.

"Help me, Om. I don't want to do this kind of work" I said, asking for hope. Silent Om Darmawan for a moment, his eyes remained staring intently, then took out a pack of cigarettes and lighters lying on the table, took one, sucked it, and exhaled the smoke slowly. The middle-aged man remained silent, as if he were thinking, considering all the things that could happen if he wanted to help, or perhaps was looking for a way out of my problems. Ahh .. Maybe just my guess, he could have thought of something else that had nothing to do with me.

"What do I get if I help you, Amira?" the question was slow, but it made me startled and stammered, either having to answer what the question was, because there was nothing I could give her. What two hundred thousand dollars Asmah gave me was enough to pay for it.

"I have only two hundred thousand, Om," I replied, to his question. Shocked for a moment he heard my answer, a moment later laughed out loud, so loud his voice, to make his face look red, the bright living room lights, enough to display the look of his face.

"You're too innocent and innocent, Amira," she said, either a compliment or wanting to explain my stupidity.

"Help me, Om Darmawan. Right now, only om can help me." puddles of water started to wet both my eyes. I really hope, may her heart open.

Om Darmawan looked back at me deeply, turning off his cigarette on the ashtray on the table, my tears began to drip slowly down both cheeks, he turned his face away from me, taking a deep breath.

"Don't cry, Amira. I don't have the heart, to see a child crying," she said, or indeed it was sincere from her heart, I don't know.

"Lord, if Auntie Sissy says, You really do exist, help me to soften my heart Om Darmawan" I said in my heart.