HOUSE OF FORMER SUICIDE VICTIMS
PART 1
Early work of Lisdianti II
"Find a cheap house. It's okay if there are lots of ghosts, you can exorcise them," said my father, laughing while chatting with Pak Hasan—a neighbor who actually acts as an intermediary for buying and selling houses in my village.
During this time we did live in the house of grandmother on the mother's side. Siblings often talk about our family because they can't afford a house. Until finally, my father worked hard and was able to save for three years in the bank. I don't know how much your savings are now.
"Actually there is, sir. In fact, I have tried to offer it everywhere, but I don't want it. ..."
I, who was doing my schoolwork in front of the computer, immediately changed my sitting position, wondering what Pak Hasan would explain about the house because it is a place to watch TV and the living room is only separated by a wall. So, their conversation could be heard.
Suddenly Mother passed by, carrying a plate of bakwan and fried bananas on a tray. Don't forget to make water that looks steaming. Looks like it's filled with coffee. Father's favourite. "Mango is taken atuh. Let's have a nice chat," said Mother. There was the sound of dishes being placed on the table.
"Just how? Keep it up," said Mr curiously. Likewise with me who continues to eavesdrop.
"The house was a former suicide victim, sir." That explanation managed to make me aghast, then approached the Father and Mother in the next room.
Mother patted the chair, motioning for me to sit next to her. "So, sir?" Timpalku hurriedly sat down. Even though I'm still in 2nd grade of high school, I like horror things. More precisely, curious.
"The problem is, the suicide…."
Before Mr. Hasan had time to explain, Mr. interrupted him. "Ah, just a suicide victim. Just be diligent in reciting the Koran at that house, things are done. The victim must be calm in nature. How much do you want to sell?"
"30 million negotiable, sir. If you want, we can go there. The location is in the Lembang area."
In my imagination, the house at that price is the smallest and is about to collapse. Moreover, considering that land in Lembang is known to be expensive. However, I'm still curious about what Pak Hasan said earlier. If you want to ask further questions, you have agreed and asked Pak Hasan to eat the food that is on the table. It's not good if it's disturbing.
***
Sunday we went to see the house. Pak Hasan brings a car, so you don't have to bother borrowing from his boss. Your father's job is as a private driver. The salary is not bad, it's just that he has a lot of debt—a loan from the bank when he married his youngest sister.
My expectations turned out to be inferior to the reality on the ground. The house is quite big, even in the good category. The buildings are solid, the architecture is very similar to Dutch buildings. The yard is wide. It's just, far from the neighbor's house.
"Like the former Dutch building, sir?" I asked.
"Yes Neng. From ancient times. Only, it was empty after the incident 3 years ago."
Ah, Pak Hasan makes me even more curious. Finally the man let us in, he even brought the key. My sister Via went first without speaking, the girl who was just in grade 2 of junior high school actually refused to move.
Unlike Via, Ita looked happy. It's understandable, he's only in 1st grade, how do you understand the new environment.
We started going in, paying attention to all kinds of items inside that were still complete. Everything looks nice and unique. Moreover, the little jars in the glass cabinet, like antiques. Maybe if we moved, surely the owner would take all these things with him.
"Oh yes, sir. This is 30 million and the goods," said Mr. Hasan, making Mr. and Mrs. 'huh' in unison. Why do I even feel awkward, huh? Like something doesn't make sense.
Father immediately shook Pak Hasan's hand, the chubby man said he agreed with this house. Meanwhile, my mother and I exchanged lyrics. It seems what my mother and I think is the same. We went back down room after room. It turns out that this house is long to the back. There are three rooms. Not bad for our small family.
"Let's go to the backyard," said Mr. Hasan.
I also followed behind Mother, while Via was somewhere else. My brother is a bit quiet, he rarely interacts with his family. You could say they tend to be preoccupied with their own world.
"Princess, look for your younger siblings," Mother whispered when Pak Hasan had opened the door to the backyard.
"Yes later, ma'am." I don't miss a whisper.
At first glance there is nothing strange, only a few large trees are visible—especially in the middle of the park. It's just that, I saw burnt marks on elephant grass, grass that is often used for gardens. The burn marks are quite extensive, it looks charred there. Especially the tree, the bottom is no less black. It's been three years though. Strange.
"Duh, it's really a shame to burn it in the garden. So it's not aesthetic, sir," I shouted a little sneering.
"No Neng. That was the former suicide," answered Pak Hasan, making me gape.
"Set yourself on fire, sir?" I asked again.
Hasan nodded. "A family self-immolation. Mother, father and two children."
Instantly goosebumps. I saw doubt on Father's face, but he chose to change the subject. In fact, Father immediately bid on the house to lower the price a little. While I'm still curious, who owns this house? Why isn't the former flame cleaned?
I was startled, when suddenly someone grabbed my hand. Turns out it was Itachi. "Why?" I asked while crouching down.
"Sis Via, Sis. She passed out in the bath."
RUMAH BEKAS KORBAN BUNUH DIRI
PART 1
Karya Dini Lisdianti II
"Cariin rumah yang murah. Gak apa-apa banyak hantunya, itu mah bisa diusir," ucap Bapak tergelak ketika mengobrol dengan Pak Hasan—tetangga yang memang jadi perantara untuk jual-beli rumah di kampungku.
Selama ini kami memang tinggal di rumah nenek dari pihak Ibu. Saudara Ibu sering sekali membicarakan keluarga kami karena tak mampu membeli rumah. Hingga akhirnya, bapak bekerja keras dan bisa menabung selama tiga tahun di bank. Entah berapa hasil tabungan Bapak sekarang.
"Sebenarnya ada, Pak. Malah saya udah coba tawarin ke mana-mana, pada gak mau. Udah nyerah tadinya, malah udah bilang ke yang punya gak akan nawarin lagi, capek. Tapi kalo Bapak mau, hayolah. Cuma, ya, itu ...."
Aku yang tengah mengerjakan tugas sekolah di depan komputer langsung mengubah posisi duduk, penasaran apa yang akan dijelaskan Pak Hasan tentang rumah itu karena memang tempat nonton TV dan ruang tamu hanya tersekat oleh dinding saja. Jadi, pembicaraan mereka bisa terdengar.
Tetiba Ibu melintas, membawa sepiring bakwan dan pisang goreng menggunakan nampan. Tak lupa dengan dua buat air yang terlihat mengepul. Sepertinya isinya kopi. Kesukaan Bapak. "Mangga disambil atuh. Biar enak ngobrolnya," ucap Ibu. Terdengar bunyi piring diletakkan di meja.
"Cuma gimana? Terusin atuh," ucap Bapak penasaran. Begitu juga denganku yang terus menguping.
"Rumahnya bekas korban bunuh diri, Pak." Penjelasan itu berhasil membuatku terperanjat, lantas menghampiri Bapak dan Ibu di ruangan sebelah.
Ibu pun menepuk kursi, memberi kode agar aku duduk di sebelahnya. "Terus, Pak?" timpalku bergegas duduk. Meski aku masih kelas 2 SMA, tetapi aku suka hal yang berbau horor. Lebih tepatnya, penasaran.
"Masalahnya, yang bunuh diri ...."
Belum sempat Pak Hasan menjelaskan, Bapak sudah memotong ucapan beliau. "Ah, cuma korban bunuh diri. Cukup rajin mengaji saja di rumah itu, urusan beres. Pasti korbannya tenang di alam sana. Mau dijual berapa memangnya?"
"30 juta nego, Pak. Kalau mau, kita bisa ke sana. Lokasinya ada di daerah Lembang."
Bayanganku, rumah harga segitu paling kecil dan mau roboh. Apalagi, mengingat tanah di Lembang terkenal mahal. Namun, aku masih penasaran dengan apa yang diucapkan oleh Pak Hasan tadi. Mau bertanya lebih lanjut, Bapak sudah berkata setuju dan meminta Pak Hasan untuk memakan makanan yang tersedia di meja. Tidak enak kalau sampai menganggu.
***
Hari Minggu kami pergi untuk melihat rumah tersebut. Pak Hasan membawa mobil, jadi Bapak tak perlu repot meminjam pada atasannya. Pekerjaan Bapak sebagai sopir pribadi. Gajinya lumayan, hanya saja utangnya banyak—bekas pinjam ke bank saat menikahkan adik bungsunya.
Ekspetasiku ternyata kalah dengan realita di lapangan. Rumah itu cukup besar, bahkan masuk dalam kategori bagus. Bagunannya kokoh, arsitekturnya saja mirip sekali dengan bangunan Belanda. Halamannya luas. Hanya saja, jauh dari rumah tetangga.
"Kayak bekas bangunan Belanda, Pak?" tanyaku.
"Iya, Neng. Dari zaman dulu ini. Cuma, kosong setelah kejadian 3 tahun yang lalu."
Ah, Pak Hasan malah bikin aku semakin penasaran. Akhirnya pria itu mempersilakan kami masuk, bahkan ia sudah membawa kuncinya. Adikku Via maju terlebih dahulu tanpa bicara, gadis yang baru duduk di kelas 2 SMP itu malah menolak untuk pindah sebenarnya.
Berbeda dengan Via, Ita terlihat gembira. Maklum saja, dia baru kelas 1 SD, mana paham dengan yang namanya lingkungan baru.
Kami pun mulai masuk, memperhatikan segala macam barang-barang di dalam yang masih lengkap. Semuanya tampak bagus dan unik. Apalagi guci-guci kecil di lemari kaca, seperti barang antik. Mungkin kalau kami sudah pindah, pasti pemiliknya akan membawa barang ini semuanya.
"Oh iya, Pak. Ini 30juta sudah beserta barang," kata Pak Hasan, membuat Bapak dan Ibu 'ber-hah' serempak. Kenapa aku malah merasa janggal, ya? Seperti ada yang tidak masuk akal.
Bapak langsung menjabat tangan Pak Hasan, pria bertubuh tambun itu berkata setuju dengan rumah ini. Sementara aku dan Ibu saling lirik. Sepertinya apa yang dipikirkan aku dan Ibu adalah sama. Kami pun kembali menyusuri ruangan demi ruangan. Ternyata rumah ini panjang ke belakang. Kamarnya pun ada tiga. Lumayan untuk keluarga kecil kami.
"Kita ke halaman belakang," ajak Pak Hasan.
Aku pun mengekor di belakang Ibu, sementara Via entah ke mana. Adikku itu memang sedikit pendiam, dia jarang berinteraksi bersama keluarga. Bisa dibilang cenderung asyik dengan dunianya sendiri.
"Putri, cari adik-adik kamu," bisik Ibu saat Pak Hasan sudah membuka pintu menuju halaman belakang.
"Iya nanti, Bu." Aku tak kalah berbisik.
Sekilas tidak ada yang aneh, hanya terlihat beberapa pohon besar—terutama di bagian tengah taman. Hanya saja, aku melihat ada bekas bakaran di rumput gajah, rumput yang sering digunakan untuk taman. Bekas bakarannya cukup luas, terlihat gosong-gosong di sana. Terutama bagian pohon, bawahnya tak kalah menghitam. Padahal sudah tiga tahun. Aneh.
"Duh, sayang banget bakar-bakar di taman. Jadi gak estetik, Pak," seruku sedikit mencebik.
"Bukan, Neng. Itu bekas yang bunuh diri," jawab Pak Hasan, membuatku menganga.
"Bakar diri, Pak?" tanyaku lagi.
Pak Hasan mengangguk. "Satu keluarga bakar diri. Ibu, bapak, dan dua anaknya."
Seketika bulu kuduk merinding. Aku melihat ada keraguan di wajah Bapak, tetapi beliau memilih mengalihkan pembicaraan. Malah, Bapak langsung menawar rumah itu agar diturunkan harganya sedikit. Semantara aku masih penasaran, siapa pemilik rumah ini? Kenapa bekas kebarannya tidak dibersihkan?
Aku terperanjat, saat tiba-tiba seseorang menarik tanganku. Ternyata itu Ita. "Kenapa?" tanyaku sembari berjongkok.
"Kak Via, Kak. Dia pingsan di bak mandi."
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