That morning, Dina's house felt quiet, as if it were still reluctant to wake from its sleep. Cold air drifted in through the gaps in the windows, carrying the scent of dew clinging to the papaya leaves in the backyard. In the kitchen, the soft sound of a pot being handled carefully could be heard—a sign that her mother was preparing breakfast.
Dina stepped into the living room while straightening her clothes. Her eyes were slightly puffy from exhaustion after her family had only just returned from her aunt's house and arrived home around midnight. Dina was tired and sleepy, but as a student known for almost never missing school, her laziness still couldn't outweigh her obligation to go.
"Mom, I'm heading out," she said while tying her shoelaces.
"Have breakfast first, Din," her mother called from the kitchen.
"I don't have time, Mom," she replied, leaving without waiting for an answer.
Dina opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. The early sunlight washed over her face, warm and gentle. She had only taken a few steps past the gate when the sound of a motorcycle engine approached from the end of the alley.
A shiny new automatic scooter stopped right in front of her.
Mimi, her neighbor, lifted her helmet and smiled widely.
"Want to ride with me, Din?"
The simple question immediately erased Dina's intention to take the angkot, which was often packed during the morning rush.
"Sure!" she answered quickly.
Mimi laughed. "Hop on. We'll take the shortcut. It'll be faster."
Dina climbed onto the back seat and held the edge of Mimi's jacket. The soft morning wind brushed against her face as the motorcycle started moving. The houses along the narrow alley were still quiet, with only the sounds of neighbors' chickens and a broom being dragged across someone's yard.
They turned onto a small road that was often used as an alternative route. Mango leaves swayed gently overhead, casting dancing shadows across the asphalt. Dina watched them while trying to fight off her sleepiness. Her head felt light, as if she still hadn't fully woken up.
The motorcycle moved slowly, swaying slightly along the road.
Dina opened her eyes wider.
At first, the gentle movement hadn't bothered her, but the swaying gradually became more noticeable. Mimi tried to steady the handlebars, but the vibration only grew stronger.
"Mi… why is the bike wobbling?" Dina's voice rose half an octave.
"Hold on for a second!"
The motorcycle went over a speed bump. The impact was much harder this time.
Mimi instinctively pulled the brake, but the front wheel seemed to lose direction. The motorcycle swerved to the right, then to the left.
"DIN, HOLD ON!" Mimi screamed.
Everything happened so quickly.
Dina saw flashes of color—gray asphalt, green leaves, white walls and fences—all blending together like streaks of paint dragged violently across a canvas.
Mimi's scream broke through the air.
Gravity pulled Dina's body to the side.
THUD!
Her body slammed into the ground beside the asphalt road. Dina's head felt as though something hard had struck it. Her breath came out in a sharp gasp, then faded and disappeared.
The sounds of the world grew distant. The air felt heavy. The light began to fade.
Before consciousness slipped away, Dina heard only one thing:
Mimi's trembling voice, screaming in panic.
"DINAAA!"
Then everything went dark.
Completely dark.
---
"Where am I?"
Dina's voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper. Her eyes slowly opened, but all she could see was white—too bright, too unfamiliar. The light above her formed a glowing circle, making her close her eyes again for a moment.
Dina's mother immediately leaned forward, her face drawing closer in obvious panic. Her eyes and nose were red, as though she had been crying for a long time.
"You're awake, sweetheart?" her mother said, her voice trembling. "You're at the hospital. Dad's calling the doctor."
Dina blinked several times.
The hospital?
"Doctor? Who's sick—ow!"
She wanted to ask, but a sharp pain suddenly pierced the back of her head. The cry escaped before she could stop it.
The wound in her head felt as though something were pulling at it from the inside. The pain shot through her ears, bringing tears to her eyes without warning. Dina bit her lip, her shoulders trembling.
Her mother quickly took her hand.
"Hang in there, sweetheart. The doctor will be here soon."
Dina grimaced. Her eyes opened slightly as she tried to make sense of the room filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic. Besides her head, her leg also felt heavy and painful.
"Mom… what happened to me?" Her voice was small and broken.
Her mother took a deep breath, trying to remain calm even as her voice cracked.
"You got into an accident on your way to school this morning."
The word accident reached Dina's ears as though it were coming from underwater—slow and distorted.
She tried to remember.
The motorcycle swaying.
Mimi's scream.
Then…
Darkness.
"How's Mimi, Mom?" she asked softly, her eyes filling with tears again.
"She's fine. Don't worry. When you fell, she even stayed on the motorcycle. She was just in shock."
Dina let out a relieved breath mixed with a small sob. Her thoughts were still blurry, but she was grateful Mimi was safe.
Slowly, she looked around.
The hospital room was illuminated by harsh white lights. On her left stood several people—silhouettes that turned out to be her friends.
Icha covered her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears even as she smiled. Nia patted Icha's shoulder while wiping away her own tears. Bram stood behind them.
And a little farther away stood someone who hadn't come any closer:
Ando.
He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, his expression tense. His eyes were fixed directly on Dina—a look she couldn't quite interpret.
Maybe it was concern and something else she didn't want to think too deeply about. She was too weak. And her head hurt.
At that moment, the door opened. Dina's father entered quickly, accompanied by a young doctor holding a clipboard. Her mother stepped aside slightly.
The doctor checked Dina's eye reflexes, gently pressed the back of her head, then examined her left leg, which was wrapped in a thin bandage.
Dina winced, her body tensing.
"How is she, Doctor?" her father asked.
The doctor wrote something down.
"We can't be certain until we get an X-ray, Sir. For now, our preliminary assessment is that the patient has suffered a mild concussion. Her left leg will also need to be X-rayed to check for any fractures."
The doctor's voice began to fade for Dina. It was as if the room suddenly grew wider, while the voices turned into uneven echoes. Her head throbbed violently and unpredictably. She felt her entire body beginning to sink into the mattress.
The doctor was still talking—something about observation, hospitalization, and pain medication—but Dina could no longer follow.
The world blurred.
Through the fog of her consciousness, rising and falling, Dina caught the sound of a voice she knew better than any other.
Soft.
Panicked.
Filled with fear that was being desperately hidden.
"Din… don't go to sleep yet, sweetheart. Look at Mom."
The words lingered, trembling like a thread about to snap.
Dina wanted to answer. She wanted to open her eyes and make sure her mother was no longer crying like she had been earlier. But her body was too heavy.
In the deepening darkness, she felt her mother's warm hand gripping hers tightly, as though that grip alone could keep her consciousness from slipping away.
But the world around Dina began to fade again, and her mother's voice became the last echo holding her there for a moment longer.
Her consciousness slowly slipped away, like a leaf falling into a flowing river.
The dark silence pulled her back in.