YBLalat Fear Satan
by YBLalat

"Lalat."
"Hm?"
"Lalat, wake up. Subuh is nearly over."
"Hm?"
"Wake up, Subuh, Subuh."
"Hm?"
"Wake up, have you done your Subuh?"
"What time is it?"
"6:50 - you have less than 15 minutes."
"Oh, okay."
"Come on, move it. Take the blanket off."
"Is there anyone in the toilet?"
"Pyan - but he's almost done."
"Wake me up when he is done."
"Hey, hey, don't sleep back!"
"Just five minutes more."
"No, no, come on, get up, get up."
"Five, just five minutes more."
"No, hey, take that blanket off!"
"Hey, give back the blanket, man!"
"Give me the blanket!"
"Hey, come on, give me..."
"No! No! Let go of the..."
"Fuck you, keep the blanket!"
"Hey, Subuh is almost over!"
"..."
"Hey, don't sleep!"
"..."
"Fuck you, it's your grave."

*****

"Where were you?" asked Satan, as He brushed the wall's dust off of His red shirt.
"I got caught up with my roommate, trying to save the world", I told Him, mockingly.
"Again? What is up with the dude, man?", He joked, with His eyes squinting a bit.
"You waited long?", I asked the tall friend of mine.
"Nope, the usual", He replied, with that sly smile of His.
"So...where are you taking me this time?"
"A new place - this one is whack!", He shouted, with a zealous jerk of His shoulder.
"You shittin' me?", I respond skeptically at His enthusiastic gesture.
"Nah, man! This is for Goddamn real!" He answered, nearly spitting on my face.
"So...this place of yours, what they got?", I asked Him, still holding on to skepticism.
"Let me take you there, man. It's not far, come on", He said as He tugged at my elbow.
"Hey, cool, dawg. What's so whack about it?" I replied while trying to set myself loose.
"We'll see, we'll see, come on", He responded whilst letting my arm go gradually.

Satan walked rapidly in front of me, with His tail swinging from side to side with each step taken. He looked around for something, probably for road signs or key buildings, but that did not lessen His pace even a bit. I was trying my best to follow Him from behind, trailing from afar with the visual aid of the two large horns sticking out of His head, but most of the time I would lose him in the madding crowd. Then, Satan would casually wait for me in the corner of the next row of shops and smile at me before saying, "Yell if you can't keep up, okay?"

I did lost Him in the crowd a few more times after that, but Satan was always there for me, waiting patiently as I struggled my way through the packed crowd towards Him. He was either waving His scaly arms around or jumping up and down hysterically just to get me to notice where He was standing. I yelled loudly at Him once or twice, over the vast mass of crowdedness, telling Him to stop for a while as I catch my breath again before continuing the walk once more. He understood me well enough, knowing that I am merely a weak human being, and of a mortal's strength limit.

"You'd better start exercising again. You need to get back in shape."
"Shut up, you fucking immortal asshole!"
"I told you to stop enjoying yourself with those Swedish lesbians."
"Fuck you. Fuck you and your sexless kind!"
"Hey, dude, look. We are here."
"What is this - 'The Blanket Depot'?"
"Yeah, they sell blankets of all kinds, man."
"You're kidding?"
"No - just look inside the store."

There were indeed various kinds of blankets inside, and they were of different fabric materials and in thousands and thousands of hues and shades. Some were sprawled across hundreds and hundreds of racks and display tables; some with decorations of various plants and flower designs. Numerous kinds more of the blanket in the store was in special celebrative, plastic wrappings and some were even hung on the store's windows and walls in a great discount offer and style. The blankets looked like they were really clean and fresh, with every customer having a blanket to touch sniffing and caressing them in a very sensuous manner - eyelids fluttering and nose expanding and shrinking.

Boys and girls, men and women, old and young, rich and poor, all were in the store, each holding a blanket of their choice, with a grip on them so strong but yet so passionate, like holding onto your lovers' arms from falling into a ditch. Their eyes and smiles told a story more touching than all the romantic love tragedies put together, having the essences of more profound desire and lust over all of the worldly pleasures. The caress and the gentle lovemaking of the blankets with their skin, may they be white or black, smooth or flaky, hairy or bald, ignited the passion and longing of a weak man's whims - making him a stronger person to brave the cold, freezing night alone. The blankets were their mother's soft touch, their father's assuring voice, their child's blissful laughter, and their lover's caring embrace.

"Nice, eh?"
"Yeah, I wish I could buy a new one for myself."
"Why don't you?"
"You think?"
"Yeah, sure, go on, get yoursef a new blanket."
"What kind?"
"Any kind, whatever suits your skin, your taste."
"How much would it cost me to buy one?"
"It's free."
"You're fucking kidding me!"
"No, no, it's free. All blankets from the Blanket Depot is free."
"But why?"
"Why what?"
"Why is it free? Why even bother opening a shop if it's given free?"
"Because everyone has to have their own blanket, you dumbass."
"Really?"
"Yeah! I mean, don't you have one?"
"Yes, but it's already been taken."
"By who?"
"By my roommate, this morning."
"Sheesh, yeah, right...and he took it away for good?"
"I guess, yes."
"That's bullshit."
"What?"
"That's bullshit, I said. You'll get it back next morning."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I guarantee you that."
"And how are you going to guarantee me that, Mr. Red-Rash-All-Over-My-Body?"
"Because I will be giving you the Goddamn blanket tomorrow, silly."
"You? Really?"
"Yeah, and I will give you the best blanket that the store could offer."
"Which one? Show me, show me."
"You see that one, near the fireplace, next to the huge statue?"
"The one in the pinkish wrapping, inside the glass casing?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"Pretty special kind of blanket to be displayed like that, eh?"
"Yeah - the best kind."
"What is it made of?"
"You mean the fabric?"
"Yeah."
"Pigskin."

*****

The ringing of the alarm clock was still echoing back and forth the walls of head when I finished slamming the annoying device to its dormant, quiet state of function. The room was brightly lit, even though the lights were not switched on. The morning sun was right above my head, slightly slipping towards the other side, making it hard for me to look at the digital interface of the alarm clock. The silhoutte lines of the bright red LEDs was blurry, and with all that blinding morning rays penetrating the room, nothing was easier but to stare at the bleak space in between me and the clock. My head was a bit dizzy from all that ringing of the alarm clock, and my chest hurt. The pillow was twisted under the folded blanket, making the bed similar to a messy date-rape scene on TV. The air inside the room was stale, as stale as the socks and the underwear piling up at the corner of the bedroom. With one arm supporting the weight of the body from behind and the other scratching and peeling the sticky flakes of dried saliva from the edges of my lips, I tried another harder stare at the alarm clock: it was twelve minutes to noon on a summer Friday.