Shell

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          It was about a week ago when I went to a branch of Indonesia’s largest bookstore at the downtown. I didn’t know what kind of dream I had that night, but I woke up feeling like going out and get a book. I had no idea when the last time I went out, because I actually wanted to, I mean. Not because I was forced to, like forced to get some groceries for example. Or because my niece was whining, asked me to take her to the playground.

          At 3 p.m., after over ten hours of debating with myself about whether or not I’m going out and get the book or just stay and continue reading e-books, I finally came to the conclusion to just get going. So, I put the make-up on and get dress up. The outfit was pretty casual: I wore a long-sleeveless black dress, mixed with a denim jacket and caramel ankle boots. And then I ordered an online cab.

          Right after the app told me that the cab I was ordering was on its way, I suddenly got an anxiety attack. I felt nauseous and my heart was racing out of nowhere. My whole body was shaking, I felt cold sweat on my palms, and it felt so hard to breathe. The last time I got this exact sensation was last year, when I was on the line, waiting for my turn to get interviewed for the U.S. visa application.

            It was early in the morning and there were only me and a Russian woman as my age in front of me. And then a minute later when I realized a dozen of people lined up behind me with a variety of different kind of big envelope on their hands. I saw most of them holding this brown-Ish envelope made out of paper with the red-blue geometry patterns all over the edges. Some other holding the one made out of plastic just like mine, and I saw a group of four to five people in formal outfits with ties, wearing navy blue suits holding a thick, hard covered binder. I even spotted two or three guys that held nothing but three sheets of papers on their hands.

          I almost canceled my order when I thought I had made such a crazy decision. I should’ve thought twice—no, I’ve already thought about it a hundred times. I should’ve thought a hundred more times before I clicked that ‘order now’ button on the app and regret this. But you know what? I did it anyway. I told myself that everything was gonna be alright and I’m just gonna go out for a couple of minutes, get a book, and get back home.

          The cappuccino-scented air freshener welcomed me as I open the car door, the smell slowly calmed my anxiety down. A guy in the driver's seat greeted me before then he driving to the drop-off point. He looked a little like a professional racer, though, with that yellow-like-racing-jacket. Just add a full-face helmet and racing gloves.

          Halfway through the ride, I lowered the window a bit until it was aligning with my nose. A breeze brushed against my forehead, and for some reason, it made me feel a lot better. I was thinking of just getting a ride home to catch more of the evening wind.

          There were many things that seemed to have endlessly surprised me along the way. I constantly gasping in my mind and saying things like, “Wait, what store is this? I’m pretty sure there was nothing like this here before.” Or “Oh, Wow! When did they repainted this school? This actually looks cool now!” And then I realized it has been four years since I last went down the street. I mean, I said the same things too when the car left my neighborhood. I guess that’s what happened when all you’ve been doing is walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the bathroom, and walk back to the bedroom the whole time.

          After ten minutes or so, the car finally pulled up in front of a huge mall. A sigh of relief washed over me. I’m so glad the driver didn’t say a word other than apologizing for being 2 minutes late by making a quick stop at a gas station before picking me up. I don’t know if you’ve experienced this, but some drivers love to tell a story. And when I said love, I mean loooooooooooove. I had this one driver telling me a story about how he’s proud of his five kids that are able to get master’s degrees at some top universities with scholarships. Or this other driver that told me he had to skip breakfast just because he forgot to hang the towel back to the place. And you’re not gonna see this coming, but this driver was complaining about one of his customers’ kids that threw up on the car seat I was sitting on. And then he said, “Don’t worry, I’ve already cleaned it up with baby wipes.”

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          I have never been shopping or went downtown (or wherever really) on my own before, there always has to be someone to drag me out of my room. It used to be my friends’ jobs, but now we have all gone our separate ways and are living our own lives. So, it felt super odd when I walked in the mall alone, smiled and greeted the two security guys at the door with no one beside me. If I were with them, we’d probably flirted with these two men as usual until they blushed, and their smile is as wide as Kuchisake-Onna’s. Or maybe not, since we’re not middle schoolers anymore.

          Time flew by, and I found myself spending over an hour wandering from one bookshelf to another, searching for something I didn’t even know I was looking for. Then finally I stopped at a large bookshelf filled with magazines. I inched over to the side like a crab, and I picked up a fashion magazine, flip it over to see the price, and put it back. It went like that over and over again until I found a children’s magazine I used to read when I was little: Bobo Magazine! I was incredibly shocked and happy, my hands trembling as I pulled it off the shelf. I thought they had stopped printing the magazine since I graduated from elementary school. I mean, my homeroom teacher used to have this magazine in the little library in the corner of our class and there would be a new edition almost every week. And the last time I met her and asked about the magazine, she told me she no longer subscribed. I thought that meant the magazine wasn’t being published anymore. So, you’re telling me I’ve been sad for nothing? Oh my God, I’m so emotional!

          I quickly grabbed the magazine without hesitation, plus another one only because the woman I admired was on the cover. Then, at the register, I added a novel. Again, only because I was familiar with the author’s name on the cover.

          I was about to leave the store when I remember the reason why I needed to get out of my shell in the first place: I wanted a self-help English book. That’s when I turned around and asked if they have any, but sadly no. They only have some classic novels that are in English, any non-fiction books in foreign languages have already been translated. And that’s how I walked out the store with a pout on my face.

          Before I booked a ride home, I thought about going to the restroom first because my stomach had been cramping since I left the house. But I found it was crowded by a group of teenage girls; they were dancing in front of a phone that was recording. I chose to step back and wait until I get home than awkwardly get in frame.

          There was a man in bright green outfit waiting for me on a Black Honda Beat when I leave the mall. He then handed me a green helmet after confirming that I was the one he was here to pick up. The motorcycle took off and I asked him to make a quick stop at a pet shop ahead to buy some cat food.

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          I was so proud of myself that day. It really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would. And yes, it was 100% worth it. Nothing can compare to the experience of reading a physical book.