1 Rude Papa

"What are you doing! Why should Tatiana be the guarantee?" quietly asked someone called papa. I think she's so reckless, maybe working with a big-time mobster. I could only stare at him in disbelief. Although, I actually couldn't bear to see his worried face.

"But, papa has no other choice, Ana! Forgive your papa. I am a bad father. I am not a father who can take care of his daughter. I failed, An!" With a hoarse voice, papa fell on the floor. With his condition like this, I can't refuse or even rebuke his. I walked over to him, just to help calm him down a bit. Then my hand grabbed his shaking arm. I don't know, did he really mean his words and conditions? Although, he always broke his promise and again the big family had to bear all his carelessness.

"I don't know what's on your mind, Pa! What were you thinking when this deal happened? Does Papa like to see us suffer?" I asked while holding back my growing emotions.

What else should I say to him? Childhood memories, flashed back when my mother was forced to give up all her inheritance to help her. Actually I hate papa, maybe too much hate him. However, this heart always says otherwise, we always melt with the drama of her tears.

"So, what should Ana do to get you free from the mafia?" I asked in a high tone because I was already tired of the crying that was getting louder and louder in my ears.

"He asked for guarantees that you would be his wife!" softly accompanied my annoyance. My body trembled and my teeth seemed to be forced to clench against a very heavy feeling of annoyance.

"Did I hear right, Pa?" I asked again as I turned around and sharpened my vision.

My net is getting rounder on papa. CRUEL! How could a father, have such a plan? Meanwhile, in two months I will marry the man I desire – Rangga Wijaya, the man who can make my breath stop when he looks at him.

My body is getting weaker, my head is spinning while my heart seems to be beating fast. With slow steps, I sat on the big, very soft sofa. Maybe this sofa used to be the most comfortable place. But, even now to sit down, I seem to float somewhere.

Papa stepped closer with tears in his eyes. Then, he hugged me tightly. I couldn't help but remain silent. What's this hug for? Is mocking my weakness? Because as far as I know, he has never hugged or expressed his love for his only child.

"Ana! Don't be weak like this! Papa is sorry. Papa, the promise after this will change and it will not be easy to believe in words or the lure of glory and power!" he said with a promise we heard so often and after that he would act again.

I dared to say, "Until when? Papa will say something like this? It's still clear in your memory when mama died of shock that you pledged all her wealth to all the banks. Are you not satisfied to see these two women near you suffer?!" My voice is getting higher.

After that I could only stare at one point. One thing that always makes me comfortable, an old photo frame with a picture of a beautiful woman who had to die at a young age. She left us when I was in elementary school. At that time, I could only cry over his passing. "I miss your hugs!" she whispered while shedding tears.

"I'm sorry, Tatiana! At that time, I had no other choice. Apart from agreeing to the terms he gave. You also know yourself, right? If the company is experiencing a setback!" His explanation confirms the drama of adversity that is currently hitting our lives.

Hearing his explanation, my head was spinning even more. What was in his mind and heart at that moment? Easily, he made his son as collateral. Does he think that everyone around him is only used as a shield to support his power.

"If that's the case, how will Papa deal with the Rangga family? Are you ready to find an excuse to argue?" I asked while gently massaging my head which was getting heavier.

"Papa will give them a good excuse," he replied as he stood and returned to his desk.

Silently, I saw the look on his face that was getting more and more worried. Although, I never liked it. However, I still have a heart and I am reminded of Rangga who always reminds me of respect. "No matter how rude our parents are, we can't hate them!" said Rangga at that time.

With unsteady steps I approached his desk. "I will follow your wishes. But, on one condition ... I am married to him for only one month! How about it, does Papa agree?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. I did it on purpose as a small form of resistance.

His eyes narrowed at me, his jaw clenched firmly. The hand that had been holding the ballpoint casually. Now, he broke it in half because of the hard grip of the middle-aged man who still looked dashing and handsome.

"What? Once you say it again, I will not hesitate to whack and torture you, Tatiana Fredicson! Do what was written in the agreement! You are just like your mother, DISABILITIES!" His baritone voice was deafening. I reflexively covered my ears with both hands.

Without further ado he approached me and removed the leather belt that was wrapped around his waist. He throws the punch I'm used to when I make a mistake. My body felt numb as the belt hit the skin. I could feel it in every joint, I could only bite my lower lip to ease the growing pain.

Twenty-five minutes had passed, and yet he was still not satisfied with his merciless whipping. Occasionally he grabbed my hair roughly. Fresh blood I feel flows warm and ends cold. Although, it will only leave bruises and a few scars. However, it still hurts so much. Usually after I get treated like this. I was going to complain to Rangga and he happily gave me a warm hug. In my mind, I keep thinking about Rangga, at least it can reduce the pain I feel.

"Still not enough punishment? I won't hesitate to hurt you! You women can only cry bitterly without a fight!" he snapped by pulling the line of his lips into a smile smrik.

I turned to challenge him. Really! I do not accept his words. I want to pull his lips that are getting sharper in speaking. Still pictured in my mind, when he tortured mom without seeing anyone beside him. At that time, I was a child do not know what hate is? However, she herself taught me to hate people who act rudely. In the past, I only cried when my mother burst into tears. I wiped the clear grain that passed through his cheek. Although, he didn't say anything, but I could feel what he was feeling. I hugged her frail body tightly, at least reducing the pain. In my heart always said, "One day, I will repay all he did. I hate him!"

However, look at me now instead of being an outlet for his anger. My grudge against him must run aground with the word sin. I can only be patient, "O God! I ask for justice! It's okay in the world I feel incomparable pain. However, replace it with a beautiful story in Your Heaven later." I prayed inwardly, that there might be a miracle that could save my life this afternoon.

The office door was forced open by a man. He rolled his eyes as I lay weakly. His jaw seemed to harden. The shirt he was wearing seemed to move because his heart was beating. Likewise with papa slowly he lowered his hand. The hand that had been strong was now weak.

I couldn't help but turn to the man standing proudly in front of the door. Tall stature with fine hairs adorn around the chin and jaw.