Caption Untuk Keluarga

Setelah dijadikan bank darah oleh cinta pertama suamiku, aku sakit hingga meninggal di rumah kontrakan yang disedekahkan oleh suamiku yang merupakan konglomerat. Hari ini adalah hari ketiga setelah kematianku. Putraku yang berusia enam tahun akhirnya menyadari ada yang tidak beres. Dia bermain mainan dan jarinya terluka, aku tidak menenangkannya. Dia membuka biskuit dan menyuapkan makanan ke mulutku, aku tidak menghentikannya. Dia berbaring dalam pelukanku, mencengkeram bajuku dan memanggil pelan "Mama," aku juga tidak memberi respons. Dengan panik, dia menemukan ponselku dan menelepon suamiku yang konglomerat itu. "Papa, kenapa Mama masih tidur?" Pria itu malah mengirimkan sebuah foto dirinya sedang menyantap makan malam tahun baru bersama cinta pertamanya, lalu berkata dengan dingin, "Cuma tidur, bukan mati. Hari ini malam tahun baru, aku sangat sibuk." "Katakan pada ibu kamu yang nggak tahu diri itu, kalau dia sudah mau mengakui kesalahannya, baru datang mencariku." Telepon ditutup. Anak itu tertegun lama. Dia memungut biskuit terakhir di rumah dari tempat sampah, mematahkannya menjadi dua, lalu menyuapkannya ke mulutku. "Mama, kita juga makan."

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

Three months before my wedding, my fiancé, Henry Siebert, decided it was the perfect time to drop a maternity photo shoot on social media—with my foster sister, Betty Foster. The caption? Oh, just this gem: [Legally welcoming our little one into the world.] Betty added a shy emoji. And my mom? She liked the post and wrote: [Once the baby is born, I'll help take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together as a couple.] I couldn't help myself. I replied with a single question mark. And then Henry's DMs came in hot: [She's just borrowing me for a year to get married. Once the baby's born, I'll come back to you.]

I booked a consultation with a renowned traditional medicine practitioner six months in advance to treat my surgeon wife's arousal disorder over the holidays. However, on the appointment date, Wendy did not show up. Just as I was about to call to question her, I noticed a photo her male friend had posted on social media. In the photo, my usually aloof wife was hugging the guy with a radiant smile. The caption read: [Only I can cure your problem.] But what caught my attention was my wife's flushed face in the photo, clearly displaying signs of arousal. With a cold smirk, I immediately liked and commented: [You must have magic fingers that work wonders!] The comment section exploded, with everyone speculating whether I would tear my wife's lover apart. What awaited my wife was our official divorce after the cooling-off period ended.

When I started college, my new roommate secretly used my phone to take a selfie. She sent it to the guy I was in an online relationship with and added the caption: [Baby, do you think I'm beautiful?] My boyfriend replied with a giant question mark, followed by a voice message full of curses. "Just thinking about dating someone with that face makes me want to puke!" "Let's break up, you ugly freak. Stay far away from me!" By the time I got out of the shower and tried to explain, I realized he had already blocked me. My roommate, holding her own phone, smugly told me, "The streamer I've had my eye on just added me. He says he wants to start an online relationship." When I looked at the account, I saw it was none other than my ex-boyfriend.

In the third year of our marriage, my wife’s ex-boyfriend of eight years suddenly posted a picture on social media showing off a multi-million-dollar wedding house. His caption read: “Wow, got myself a huge villa, I’m the master of charming women!” I stared in shock at the picture, which showed my wife swiping her card at a sales office, and left a single comment: "?" A second later, my wife called to scold me. “I was just fulfilling a promise I made to him back when we were dating, buying him a house. Why are you getting mad at him?” “What? Are you really going to be so vicious as to force me to break my word?” That evening, her ex showed off another lavish post, this time flaunting a renovation bill worth hundreds of thousands. I knew it was a gift from my wife to please him. But by then, I no longer cared.

My husband asked me if bras were more comfortable without underwire, and I was happy that he had finally become more mature. The next day, his assistant snatched the parcel I received in the mail, saying that it had the wrong address. That night, I saw Samantha Davis post on her social media, with the caption, “My boyfriend bought this for me. Isn’t it pretty?” It was a selfie taken in a hotel mirror, and there was a beautifully decorated box containing a bra lying beside her. So, as it turned out, it was not that men became mature later in life, it was that you weren’t the one they were willing to become mature for. Naturally, I gave the post a like and took a screenshot before sending it to my husband. "What a waste. You could have gotten an 20% discount if you bought the whole set."

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

Aku dan adik perempuanku adalah saudara kembar. Kami sama-sama menderita penyakit ginjal yang parah. Kami akhirnya mendapatkan dua buah ginjal dari donor. Dokter ingin mentransplantasikan masing-masing satu pada kami. Namun, adikku menangis dalam pelukan tunanganku. Dia ingin kedua ginjal itu untuk dirinya sendiri. Aku menolak, jadi tunanganku mengurungku di rumah dan mempersilakan adik perempuanku menerima kedua donor ginjal itu. Dia memegang daguku sambil berujar memperingatkanku. "Sakitmu nggak selama adikmu. Dia hanya ingin hidup seperti orang normal. Kenapa kamu begitu egois? Apa kamu nggak bisa menunggu ginjal berikutnya?" Sayangnya, tunanganku tidak tahu bahwa aku tidak dapat menunggu ginjal berikutnya karena aku akan segera meninggal.

Ketika surat keterangan lulus universitas tiba, aku malah demam tinggi dan terbaring di tempat tidur. Adikku yang pergi mengambilkan surat itu untukku, malah mengalami penculikan di tengah jalan dan nasibnya tak diketahui, entah masih hidup atau sudah tiada. Orang tuaku memendam kebencian mendalam padaku. Mereka merobek suratku dan memaksaku berhenti sekolah, lalu menyuruhku bekerja di pabrik. Kemudian, aku juga diculik. Setelah berhasil melarikan diri dengan nyaris kehilangan nyawa, aku bersembunyi di sebuah pabrik tua sambil mengirim pesan meminta bantuan pada ayahku. Tak lama kemudian, ayah meneleponku dan langsung berteriak marah, “Sandra Joman! Dasar anak brengsek! Bisa-bisanya kamu bercanda seperti ini di hari kematian Valarie! “Kamu tahu nggak, betapa aku dan ibumu berharap yang meninggal waktu itu adalah kamu!” Detik-detik sebelum kematian, kata-kata hinaan mereka terus terngiang di telingaku. Tubuhku disiksa sampai tak berbentuk lagi, aku meninggal dengan tragis. Jasadku dibuang ke selokan busuk selama tiga hari. Bahkan, ayahku yang seorang ahli forensik senior pun tak bisa mengenali siapa diriku. Ketika adikku pulang bersama pacar yang kabur bersamanya dulu, ayah baru saja berhasil memulihkan wajahku melalui rekonstruksi teknologi. Mereka berlutut di depan jasadku yang telah membusuk, menangis hingga tak sadarkan diri.