Aku ni dah la emo tak tentu hala (mungkin PMS) dua tiga menjak ni, dengan busy tahap dewa dewi langit ketujuh kejar deadline lagi, dengan baju raya anak2 yang tak siap jahit lagi, dengan kuih yang dah buat tapi belum raya dah nak abis lagi, dalam-dalam aku ingat nak gelak2, aku jenguk blog brader Hazrey ni. And guess what's the latest post that he has? It's about three very, very young siblings who were murdered by their father.
I instantly cried.
It is important to note that my cubicle is very much hidden from the rest of the office and I will see people approaching my area long before they are at my area. So memang kegiatan nangis-nangis tengok video sedih, baca cerita sedih (macam story "Mana Mak?" yang dicirculate macam gila akhir-akhir ni) etc, adalah terlindung. In fact, kalau aku makan masa tak puasa pun terselindung lagi. But that's not the point of this entry.
The point is those three kids. They were two, three and five year old.
Little Hero is three, so there's an instant image that I can project in my mind, when imagining the horrifying last breaths of those children. How scared were they. How none of them could've understood what was going on. Apa sangat yang diorang tahu?
I'd like to think that ar-Rahman was there protecting them that day, was there in some form or way to comfort them, to ease their passing, tapi sebagai seorang emak, sebagai seorang manusia, hati aku merintih sedih. Mata aku menangis for those unnamed children. Pada aku, mereka juga anak-anak aku.
But it's okay babies, you are in a much better place, in a much, much more loving place. A place where you deserve to be. I am so sorry that the adults around you failed you. I am so, so sorry that we failed you, angels. Rest in peace, loves.