I'm still in my doubts. My mother Emily had died a year ago. Now I live with my father, Mark. I am the second of two siblings, the youngest to be exact. My sister Veronica studies abroad, one of the universities in California.That night, a dream I didn't understand appeared. What I've never known, something I've never felt. For days this dream bothered me, making my days not as beautiful as they used to be. Because, this strange dream not only once or twice, but almost every time I fell asleep.
I tried to get up the courage to come to church and then ask Pastor Robert.
"The dream is just a flower sleep," he answered briefly and did not satisfy my mind.
I tried to ask Vincent, my boyfriend. All I found was the same answer, an unsatisfactory answer. I also asked Adrian, my best friend, Veronica, and my father. But I got the same answer.
I never asked for this dream to come, I never wanted this dream to bother me. To make my focus on the lesson dispersed. Yes, even though I admit, my grades are still stable and good.
"Kriiiiiiigg". The doorbell rings.
I immediately got out of my class which was labeled as class XI Exact 2. I immediately walked to the motorbike parking lot. After I found my motorbike, I immediately left without saying goodbye to my friends.
“BRUKK!!” I fell off the motorbike and instantly I fainted.
When I woke up, my body lay limp in the hospital bed. "Fortunately I'm not dead, I still have many sins." I thought to myself.
"Are you okay?" asked a man who had been sitting next to me, his face could be said to be handsome but his face looked like he was worried about something. Yes, he's worried about me.
"Thank God, I'm fine. Thank you for helping me," I said half-consciously and I felt my right hand hurt.
"Thank God, if that's the case, you didn't focus on driving, did you? Luckily I was able to dodge, if not, we'd both be sick," he said at length.
"Oh yes? Sorry sorry," I said, intending to stop his long words without a guilty look on his face.
"It's okay, it's okay," he said briefly, followed by a sweet smile.
"I'm Stefani, you?"
"Iqbal."
Oh, his name is Iqbal. He's nice, even though he doesn't know me. My gaze broke when he said goodbye to me.
"Fani, I pray first. I'll be here again later."
I just smiled faintly. I immediately looked for my cell phone . I haven't found a cellphone yet, and suddenly Iqbal turned his body and said again.
"Your cellphone is broken, just use mine," he said, giving him his cellphone and then he left.
"Just memorize Vincent's number, okay, Vincent's number... Empty eight .........". I was waiting for an answer from the other side.
"Who?"
"I'm the one, my cellphone is broken, please go to Kasih Hospital . I was in an accident," I said in a languid tone.
"Oh my God, are you okay? Okay, I'll call your father okay?"
Less than an hour Vincent and my father came to the hospital. Yes, you know it's not too far from their house.
Two days later I was healed. I went back to school and went back to work as usual again. I tried to find Iqbal I miss him. When he was in the hospital he always entertained me with his funny attitude, although sometimes he always said at length without a dot and a comma. But I get it, is he a possible diplomat candidate or a presidential spokesman? Haha, I dunno. What confuses me is what he said at the time, like this.
"Why don't you go to school?"
"I have to be responsible for making you like this, besides I'm already smart, how come it doesn't take long to learn," he joked.
Responsible? Even though at that time, I was not focused. Wow, that's all he is. Today I arrived at the scene of my accident, precisely in front of the Al-Ikhlas Mosque. I found Iqbal, yes it was Iqbal. I immediately called him. He was wearing a gray white outfit. I didn't expect Iqbal to go to my neighbor's high school. The world is really small huh.. Hehe.
"Fans...?" he asked with a thoughtful face.
"Let's go for a walk with me," I said kindly.
"Okay, but to where?"
"Yeah, anywhere."
"Okay, but I pray first, yes (pointing to the mosque). You wait outside, okay?” he said.
"Sip," I said briefly and sat beside the mosque.
I told him about Vincent who was having an arranged marriage with another woman, namely Angel, my best friend, chosen by his parents. Iqbal gave me a satisfied answer so that I wasn't sad anymore, I was willing, willing because I already liked another man, namely Iqbal. Iqbal turned out to have broad insight, I was amazed by him. He goes to school with a scholarship. His family is very simple. They are proud to have a child like him. I am amazed.
One day I ventured to meet Ustadz Alif, who was often at the mosque when I had an accident. But, without Iqbal's knowledge for sure. I asked about my dream at that time, even though it hasn't bothered me for the past few days I'm still curious. In my dream I heard the voices of the Koran, the book of the Muslim religion, Islam.
Ustadz Alif was touched by a few lafadz he listened to me, I was silent and listened, even though I didn't understand what it meant. He explained that I was one of the people chosen by HIM.
That day lingered on me. Day after day I thought about it, until I made up my mind. I converted to Islam without coercion. I met Ustadz Alif for the second time, and still without Iqbal's knowledge.
A few days later. It turned out that my father was suspicious of my actions. I often closed myself off and rarely went to church and I missed Easter events for reasons that convinced my father.
My father was furious when he found out I was like this. Dad locked me in the room. And Iqbal was angry with him.
"Father, why can't I convert to Islam? Was my father also not a Catholic? Father was Protestant? Because father married mother, father converted to Catholicism, right? Then why am I wrong? I should also be able to choose what is best for me!”
I was locked up for almost a week, school had to be on time. Going home was like that, so there was no time to meet with Iqbal or other friends.
Today, my birthday. I stayed silent in my room, I prayed, and recited the best I could. I haven't had time to learn more about Islam because of my father's attitude. And today dad knocked on my door. I must be getting scolded again, I thought.
"Father has accepted you to convert to Islam, this is because your brother is wise. Veronica already advised father. Happy birthday father's son, "said father as he hugged me.
I immediately called Veronica with my new cellphone which my father had just given me because my previous cellphone was broken.
"Brother, thank you. What did you say to dad?"
"What are the secrets, the important thing is that you are happy, religion and belief without coercion, right? Happy birthday to my beloved sister, the package has been sent by my sister, maybe tomorrow it will come, sorry I can't go home yet".
I'm so happy. I also miss the news of Iqbal today. I haven't seen him in two years. Where is he? I hope to meet you at this university.
Now I continue at the University of Indonesia majoring in Science. Does Iqbal still know me? Now I'm not Stefani with long hair and mini skirt anymore. Now I'm a Muslim girl who wears a long skirt and headscarf. But what hasn't changed about me is that I still love him, he's the one who illuminates the path of my life. Where is he now?
"What is Iqbal?" I said to myself at one point of view. "Oh God, it's Iqbal, I didn't think he was studying here too." I immediately went to him.
"Hey Bal, finally you continue too huh ..". said some of his friends who I met at that time.
"Alhamdulillah, my scholarship was accepted. What are you majoring in, Nin?” He asked the person who had previously questioned him.
“Electrical Engineering, are you Bal?”
"I'm Architect".
I immediately got into the conversation.
"Hi Bal, I'm Stefani".
"Stefany?"
I'm glad I can still meet him, especially in a Muslim situation. Subhan Allah.
"Stefani at the time of the accident," I explained briefly.
“Subhanallah”.*** // Sugesty Nurchadjati//( Student of SMA Negeri 1 Indramayu )// The author is a student of SMA Negeri 1 Indramayu Class XII IPA 2, born in Bekasi, November 14, 1995.
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