Teens Love Romantism (Second Part)

Apparently the plan was really interesting to me. I will enjoy playing the game with my son and daughter later in the future. But, for that, of course I need an effort that is not easy. I have to find a future wife. If I do not have a wife, how can I get a child?. Do you think that I’m a kind of magic person?.

In the inter-class events were also held an art competition for smaller classes. Among them were singing contest and declamation contest. My fourth sister, Henny, also attended the singing and recital contest. Declamation is the reading of poetry without seeing the text. Surely more difficult than ordinary poetry readings. My sister, Henny also accelerated from the small zero class straight into the first grade of elementary school. Just like my other sister, Hany.

At that afternoon, I happened to witness the declamation contest that my sister followed. I did want to watch it declaim. If there’s something funny, there’s stuff to mock and laughed her at home. It must be great.

I went to 3A classroom where the contest was held. My own sister was a participant of second grade. Her body was small and still in school uniform. Like the other participants, she was dressed in a red and white uniform, as well as most of the audience in the room to watch.

There were only a handful of students in blue-white uniforms to see. They were junior high school student like me. Most were female students.

Henny’s name was called and I started grinning. Anything I could make laughing at home from her appearance, then I should certainly pay attention to. Henny came to the front of the room and got ready. He took the microphone from Mrs. Ratna’s hands, our teacher. The audience applauded. I also clapped for her, my sister. She did not realize that I was watching her attending the declamation contest.

City’s Chess Champion (Part Three)

I giggled and want to mock her. I picked up the piece of paper containing my poem to Ita and gave it to her. I explained to her,

“If you want to know the girl’s name, her name is on this poem, Henny.”

My sister’s name was Henny indeed, she grabbed my poems and watched. She looked frowned. I was getting excited to tease her.

“Who ?.”

“There’s her name there,” I explained.

“There’s not,” said Henny.

I laughed and teased her even more excited.

“I hid that on the poem’s phrases.”

“Of course on certain systematic, Henny.”

“There’s not.”

“There is.”

I grew up with laughter. I was getting excited to mock Henny. My younger sister who still on second grade at our school. Suddenly her face lit up.

“Aha, I know.”

“La-ti-fa,” she said. Trying to solve the puzzle on my poem.

Then she burst out laughing. Turned me helpless embarrassment. I tried to grab the paper from her hand. But apparently Henny had already wary. She maintain that piece of paper. Henny ran toward the houseyard to avoid my grabbed of the piece of paper. She giggling continued to examine the white paper writing.

“Latifa who ya, brother ?”

“Aaaah, I know, it’s obvious anyway.”

“La-ti-fa Ra-mo-ni-ta.”


Henny laughed out loud. Harder than the previous one. I chased her to return the piece of paper. She ran faster and screaming all the way.

“I know, I know.”

“I know your girlfriend’s name, big brother.”

I pursued my sister who ran to the road. I wanted to grab a piece of paper containing my poem from her hands. My sister ran very fast. Firmer than usual, so I could not chased her.


When on the sixth grade, I entered as redactor of the “Derap” student magazine. “Derap” mean “Tramp” in English. As I recall, only me was selected as editor that came on this grade. Therefore, my name was the most distended on the order of the editorial board.