At first my life was perfect. I married the most graceful woman I met. His smile always amazed me, his graceful, graceful style.
She then gave birth to our first child and also the last one. Due to complications, he died. Our son survived.
Although the baby was born healthy, but still to me, the sky seemed to have collapsed by then. It feels like half of my soul is taken away. Between anger and confusion mixed in the chest. Angry at feeling this injustice. Confused for not knowing who to blame. To whom should I wreak this anger.
I named our new son Linda. I promise to be a good father. I hope Linda can grow healthy and happy, even though she has no mother since birth.
Linda grew up to be a smart and lively boy. In fact, the teacher says in her kindergarten, this child rarely wants to sit still in the classroom. I just shake my head with a smile.
Linda is now a solace to me. His round eyes made me always find my wife in him. But the Almighty again gave me a second temptation.
On that fateful day, he was only six years old. God, he's only six years old ...
We were in the crowd at Car Free Day. At that time the streets are very crowded. Lively Linda ran forward. I followed him from behind. And out of nowhere that cursed car came, Linda was hit from a car that was not supposed to get in it.
After that my memory faded. I do not remember what happened. Only I raised my baby with eyes closed, bloody. He did not reply when I called him. Crowd around trying to hold the driver of the car, whether he was caught or not.
I can not remember the details of the funeral procession. Sometimes human memory is very strange. Perhaps because they do not want to acknowledge reality, their memory tends to close in times of pain. I think I understand why people can get over what I did in the two-three months of my child's death.
I was just at home. Alone. Eat to sleep.
Fortunately my sister is constantly giving moral support. I can only rise again. Accept the fact. That man must live life, and more closer to the Creator.
I started my life again. I went back to work. I re-socialize with my friends and colleagues. Luckily they understand that everything quickly returns to normal.
Until one day I found a photo album in my house. I do not remember exactly. But it seems on the sidelines of the funeral, there is one guest who gave this to me. I do not really remember. The moment was so vague. But out of curiosity I opened the photo.
It was Linda's photographs. That's the photos taken by me ...
Why? Why there are photo albums. I thought to myself. So far I just take photos and store digitally. Never give love to others. Who washes the photos? What is the reason he scored this to me?
All the photos in this album focus on Linda and arranged chronologically. Starting from her baby age. There is a 3 year old who celebrates his birthday. There is a picture of him, at the age of 5 years was playing a four-wheeled bike that I bought for him. And then the photo of her sixth birthday, a few months before her ... Ah well. I think the sixth birthday photo of him is the last one. But the album book is still thick. I also turn the next page.
Apparently there are still photos again. This time the photos are very strange. But I understood immediately. It was a photo of Linda's 7th birthday. Linda stood in front of her cake, surrounded by her friends. Some friends I know because one kindergarten, others I do not know. While I stood beside looks smiling. Why? How could it be?
I think who is so cruel to do photo-editing for this? What is the purpose? So I feel more tormented? I kept turning the pages of those alien-looking photographs. Linda grows agile. He is often the class champion. At least that's what's in the photo. The more he got back, he grew up. At the age of 16 he looks so much like his mother. I myself rarely show up in photos. But once in a while if I am in the photo, it can seem that I am getting older.
The person doing this photoshop is an expert, I mumble. But deep down inside I feel happy, because Linda lives her life happily. In the depths of my heart, I believe these photos are original. But my reason continued to rebel. Linda is gone! I shouted remind myself constantly in my heart.
Linda's personal photos are getting rarer since she was in her 20s. instead, news clippings fill the pages of album books. The news contains about Linda's achievements in something that seems to be related to biology. Even if there are photographs, it is more often a photo in the news, for example he is being interviewed in a laboratory or a photo with his fellow researchers.
Then in addition to photos and clippings, there are also scientific journals. But I do not understand what is written there. Many foreign terms such as genetic modification and embryo. The more backward, the more news. There is one news reporting the public criticized the research led by Linda who feared would create community chaos. There was also massive demonstration news in various parts of the world.
And the back of the next news is the human rumors that prey on humans. Some countries, his government fell. Then there is another news headline that makes the hair stand up, "The World is on the Threshold of Doomsday".
Clipping is the last clipping. I turned the book over, but there was nothing else. No photos, no news, nothing.
I closed the album book. Confused with this content. Want to report polisipun want to report what, because Linda is dead. I can only sigh and put the book aside.
You spoilt the story you wrote by not bothering to make certain you first correct your mistakes.
The wife who dies is a man? That is what you keep saying.
Linda - is a boy or a girl?
If a girl, why he and his instead of her and hers?
Why do you keep calling her a boy?
The idea for your story was excellent, but I do not feel you even deserve an upvote if you do not edit and correct your mistakes.
If you are using google to translate, then don't, it only destroys what you write. Publish it here in your own language...until you have learnt English well enough to make a decent translation.