Come and Go Away

I want to go home. This is the first time after running away for almost four years. I do not know what makes me want to come back to the very place I never want to be, but I want to go home. I miss my home.

I was born in a village. There is not much things I can see beside trees and my grandfather’s pets. He had rabbits, chickens, ducks, and also our beloved cats. My grandmother in other way prefers plants compared to animals. I thought there’s no difference between them as both loves to pet.

Most of my childhood I spent by amusing myself. I read a lot of books, ran around my large backyard, pretended to be a scientist learning about trees, and a professional gardener in the making. There was a time when I ate jasmine simply because I wanted to know whether it tasted the same like jasmine tea or not. I even killed a kitten for bathing him. I was an explorer, I still am, and my grandparents allowed me to be so.

I won’t say that only great things happened at my home. There are many… so many evils live in and around it. The evils which made me hate my home in the first place and put an idea ‘live far away from here’. In Senior High School, I believed anywhere was better than my home and I should, must, go far away from there. Now, I live peacefully in a place thousand miles from where I was, yet I can’t deny I want to go home.

I guess it’s just how we built as human. We want to go out from home and back to it again. Go away and back. I’ve spent my time going and it’s the time when I should back. Only this time, I am not sure whether I could go, and bring myself back again.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Debbi R. Saragih’s story.