Aku di Sini – Whispers in the Dark

The night after her birthday stretched on without rest. Putri tossed in her bed, staring at the shadow of her window against the wall. The party had ended hours ago, her friends had gone home, yet she felt unsettled.

Agus had not come. Not even a message. Not even a call.

At first she told herself there had to be a reason. Maybe his parents had stopped him. Maybe his phone had died. But the silence felt too heavy.

When the clock struck two, the air in her room grew cold. The window rattled softly, though it was latched. She sat up, heart racing, but when she checked, nothing moved.

“Lack of sleep,” she whispered to herself. She pulled the blanket tighter and tried to close her eyes.

Morning came, but her unease remained. She searched for her toothbrush in the bathroom, only to find it lying sideways on the sink when she was certain she had placed it in the cup. She laughed it off nervously. “Maybe I’m losing my mind.”

By the third day, the strangeness grew harder to dismiss. She left her favourite novel on her desk, bookmarked in the middle. When she returned, the pages were fluttering, though no window was open. The sound was like a whisper, words too soft to catch.

Putri slammed the book shut, her hands trembling.

That night, she smelled something faint in her room. A cologne she knew too well. Agus’s.

Her throat tightened. She whispered his name, but only silence answered.

On the fifth day, she told herself she had to move on. She went through her classes, nodded politely when friends asked if she was alright, and buried her worry beneath a practiced smile. Yet her mind wandered constantly to him.

At home, she couldn’t escape. Her comb appeared in strange places, once on the edge of her bed, once inside her schoolbag. The silver pen Agus had borrowed weeks ago rolled off her shelf as if pushed by an unseen hand.

She sat frozen, staring at the pen on the floor.

“This is impossible,” she whispered, but the words felt weak.

That night, she dreamed.

She was walking through the campus courtyard. The sky was dark, but she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, and there he was. Agus.

He looked the same, his smile gentle, his eyes full of warmth. He reached for her but stopped short, as though something invisible held him back. His lips moved, and though his voice was faint, she heard it.

“Aku di sini.”

She woke with tears on her face. The words echoed in her ears, soft and certain.

By the end of the week, even her family noticed her unease.

“You’re pale, Putri,” her mother said at breakfast. “Are you sick?”

“No, Bu. Just tired.”

Her father frowned. “Then sleep earlier. Don’t waste your health.”

She nodded, though she knew sleep was no longer her choice.

One evening after class, her close friend Sari pulled her aside.

“Put, are you okay? You look… not okay.”

Putri hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t know. Strange things keep happening.”

“What kind of strange?”

Putri bit her lip. “Things move in my room. I smell his cologne. I even… I dreamed of him.”

Sari’s eyes widened. “Agus? But… he hasn’t been around. People are asking. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Putri whispered, voice trembling. “That’s the worst part. I don’t know.”

On the tenth day, her grandmother came to visit. An old woman of faith, she noticed Putri’s tired eyes immediately.

“My child,” her grandmother said gently, “souls linger. In our belief, a spirit stays close for forty days. It is a time of farewell, a time of prayers.”

Putri’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you saying…?”

Her grandmother placed a hand on hers. “I am saying you must be strong. If it is him, he does not mean to frighten you. He only wants you to know. Pray for him. Guide him.”

Putri swallowed hard. The thought both terrified and comforted her.

That night, as she prayed alone in her room, the faint whisper returned.

“Aku di sini.”

This time, she whispered back through her tears.

“I know.”