An unidentified number called ten minutes ago. I also never thought that my life has changed ten years ago, like a wave in my timeline. A colored hair, rebel-girl, F scores, tattoo, and suicide, the last thing I mentioned never done. I’m going to be a genius, a weirdie, a fool or a mad, and no one will ever care. So do I, for about the thing called life. There’s no a quiet day, quiet means dead, but I’m already dead. Then another wave changed my life.

            In that senior high school, I met Rachel, a person who changed my way about the perspective about the world, the people, or God. She was such a cheerful girl type in high shool, has many friends, but she is never arrogant. Her parents are rich, so she can get anything she wants. Unlike me, a boring stiff unpopular introvert girl and had no life goals. I ever asked God, why he didn’t create me as a dragonfly so I will never deal with all of these problems. Then Rachel, after all, she was a friend of me. A fool me. Before I met her, I never believed in God or some stuff like miracles. I often angry at God, I shouted some rude and far from a lady manner to him. I think I will never be her favorite.Then he gave me a wonderful shiny day tomorrow. Wicked.

            I am the grudge creature didn’t like Rachel, for the first time I knew her. She’s a beautiful young lady and already had three ex-boyfriends and I still a single. She might be the chosen one who sent by God to be my friend. He knows that I’m out of love, fierce and also vulnerable. I just need one Rachel and I thought it wasn’t a lottery, it was a reason. I oftentimes have a bad luck and she won’t look strangely to it. I’m afraid if someday the bad luck will guide me to hell, even if I have a heaven first class ticket.

            I and Rachel grew in years, we had the transformation phase to the maturity and a little bit wise. Let’s come back to a few years ago. One day we imagine ourselves as heroes who save the world, and then she asked me about my career goal. I answered; doctor, lecturer, architect, but they didn’t anymore. I just wanna be happy, and never be sorry for my decision. Human, somehow, planned something then it’s gone. Like a dusk.

            In the cold morning June, I ever asked. Rachel. If I die, I won’t afraid anymore. I’m not afraid being alone or can’t remember all the things I ever was done. It doesn’t matter if I have the reincarnation and become an apple tree, but I will ask God to make some memories about Rachel. Of course, she just smiled and said, “Then if I die, someday. Please, give me a eulogy.” Remembering the piece of that memories make me realize that I’m part of this life. A best friend is where you can share your happiness with. It’s scary just to imagine if you get or something, you can’t feel happiness and celebrate it completely without a person to share what you feel.

            Later, I ever imagined. I was and still, the person who likes to imagine, pretending to be a very successful woman that make people who hate me increasingly hate me. In that imagination, I figured myself a fictional character created by anonymous. I was the fictional character who was looking for the truth, about myself and who I am.  Or, anyone in the whole world right now is reading a novel about me, some of them afraid that what happen to me, will happen to them too. Or, I am a character that lived based on the human pure personality. I ever that there’s a human named Erika as my creator. She was just a book lover and also freak in reading the books. One day she decided to be a writer. At the first, she was very confident with the character of mine, she made many conflicts and she started to enjoy. But one day she was afraid because some of the conflicts really affected her life, through happened in her life. Then she stopped, and this was me, an unfinished fictional character and now confused what I had to do for the rest of my life.

            Two hours remains and I would arrive at Rachel’s house. Based on the call, her husband said that Rachel was dying and she asked me to make a tea, for her. Well, still the crazy girl, I was about busy and she asked me to make a tea? Good one! Rachel met her prince from another Kingdom when she was 26, a year after my marriage. It marked our dream, every woman dreams actually. She was the prettiest and happiest woman in her day with her dress. She smiled beautifully at her friends, her husband, and her big family. It’s the day when she chose a man to be her forever partner, a man who completes her life. A day when she felt the happiness, a day when she really adored her man.

            My car arrives smoothly then I come to her house. The last time I came here was six months ago, nothing changed. Except for Rachel, and the atmosphere. Now her life helped by those stuffs, the tubes. I come to her like I invited her to cook in some years ago, and failed. Well, we’re such the sucker for real. She tells me about how proud she is to have a best friend like me. Such a heartbreak if we can’t meet again. Honestly, I also kind of sad. I am used to living with solitude, but Rachel? I wondered if we can sit together and look at the modern things to remind who are we because we have already set it in the past year. Then, Rachel reminds me to one of Bob Marley’s quote, “Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you.” How some wonderful things had passed by, I tell to Rachel.

            I tell her anything until she sleeps, for the eternity, and the tea will never be made. A black tea that she will always love. A black tea that left by a woman like Rachel in the kitchen, getting cold and bitter. Her husband is crying. He never cries.  I’m not crying, like my promise to Rachel was. I must talk about happy things or some kind of cheerful like that besides in dying person. But Rachel already knew what kind of person I am, and I never get shy and feel guilt for it. But now, what will happen? A life without Rachel is never same again. Like an angel, her job is done.  

            Trust me, the biggest broken heart in your life isn’t about breaking up with your lover. It’s death which is separated us. No matter how big your yearning or no matter how big your effort to see him or her, it will never be done. You will never meet a person who sits next to you in the midnight after the rain, eat the food, no longer worried about the calories and talked about life, some of the same hobbies and the same life goals. You will never meet a person that ever laugh together with you, or maybe a person that ever had a commitment with you. You will miss how the way he or she speak with you, how the way he or she look at you. You will never share your favorite books or something secret to him or her. You started to remember the last conversation that you had. No more chance, all about memories.

            Thinking about death is scary, dark, cold and mysterious one. I never saw the death before, except in some movies, and this time. Like, I always hate the spotlight, it ruins my glimpse. I hate when I myself walk on the road and the rider uses the light and struck at my face. I hate when the senior in that college using a flashlight and shot at my face in that night. I hate the eight spotlight lamps in the surgery room, the last thing I saw before I remember nothing and thinking it was the last light I saw in the world. I did it just once at my appendicitis surgery. How can Rachel survive more than three times for something that I hate? Then, I ever wondered who is the first person who will cry aloud when I’m gone. It must be Rachel, that her last journey I accompanied a few minutes ago.

            The next day after I will be at her funeral. It must be full of people and blue atmosphere.A group of people wearing black. A big smile and beautiful face in that photo, like tells everybody she is happy at there. No more pain. A best friend of my life is going home and I’d like to say something. I’d make some lists, the obviously good things that Rachel’s had, and she almost has no bad thing to say. Except her short lifetime. There will be a day that I’ll try to understand what big part of my life has missing. Must I mad at God like before I met her? No. She won’t like it. A great friend for a great lesson. But, one thing that I know, an imaginary friend like Rachel will never leave me, however, bad I am.