The sky was getting darker, and Jakarta's traffic—already bad on a normal day—was a total mess. Motorcycles were weaving everywhere, each rider rushing to get wherever they needed to go. No one likes being stuck in traffic when it's raining, especially not people on motorbikes.
Every day, tens of millions of motorcycles pour into Jakarta. You really notice it when the traffic completely stops, like today. Motorcyclists squeeze into every tiny gap between cars, zigzagging left and right, trying to find any space that lets them keep moving through the jam.
The taxi driver kept honking every time a motorbike cut in front of him. Driving through Jakarta's Friday afternoon traffic in the rain takes skill, courage, and a whole lot of patience. This guy clearly had the first two—patience wasn't part of the package.
"Bang!" The rearview mirror shook as a motorcyclist forced his way through a gap so narrow it shouldn't have been possible. A second later, the driver smacked the horn and rolled down the window to shout a curse. Luckily for everyone, the motorcyclist had already vanished into the sea of traffic and didn't hear a thing.
Susan just frowned, her heart pounding hard. Sitting uncomfortably in the back, she worried that the longer she stayed inside, the greater the chance she would witness the driver get into a fistfight with another motorist. Judging by his rough demeanor, it wouldn't be his first.
Susan frowned, her heart pounding hard. Sitting awkwardly in the back seat, she couldn't shake the worry that the longer she stayed in this taxi, the higher the chances she'd end up watching the driver get into a fistfight with someone. Judging from his attitude, it probably wouldn't be his first.
She tried to make herself as small as possible, pressing into the corner of the seat and staying completely silent. She didn't even dare look at the driver—her eyes stayed glued to the window, silently praying they'd get to her destination soon.
Susan let out a tense sigh. The mild nausea she'd felt earlier was now turning worse. The way the driver handled the car—jerky gear changes, sudden braking, rough clutch work—wasn't helping at all. Good thing I don't get motion sickness, she thought. If she did, she could only imagine how many plastic bags this taxi would need for passengers with weaker stomachs.
"You see? Those shitheads are the ones causing traffic. They just stop under the bridge like this," the driver grumbled, shooting Susan a look like he expected her to back him up.
The car was moving through a huge underpass. Turns out, the traffic jam was caused by a bunch of motorcyclists who had stopped there to pull out their raincoats from the compartments under their seats. They were basically blocking two out of the three lanes, forcing every car to shift to the right just to get through.
A complete bottleneck—exactly what people always complain about.
Susan decided not to respond. Instead, she glanced at her wristwatch. It had been an hour and a half since she left her uncle's house, and she was still stuck somewhere she didn't even recognize. She rarely visited Jakarta—and she never liked it. The traffic, the crowds, the constant rush… everything about the city annoyed her. It was nothing like her hometown, the place she loved and felt safe in.
Sigh…
She let out a long, heavy breath, trying to ease the sadness weighing on her chest.
Life felt like one big joke. It pushed you into situations you never asked for, and the more you struggled, the more it seemed to enjoy watching you suffer.
Susan never imagined her life could flip upside down in just three years. It all started with the accident that took her father's life. Life had been good when he was around. They weren't rich, but her father always made sure the family lived comfortably. Money was never a topic at home—even when there were problems, he handled everything quietly, protecting her mother from any worry.
No one knew that behind the business that looked fine from the outside, there were serious financial issues hidden underneath. They only found out after he passed away.
Her mother had been a housewife her whole life, fully devoted to her husband and their only daughter. After her father died, she tried her best to take over, only to realize she didn't have the ability to save the company—especially with all its financial problems. A year later, she had no choice but to sell all their assets to pay off the debts, leaving them with just a small amount to survive the next few years.
Susan understood their financial situation and quietly buried her dream of going to college. She knew no matter how hard her mother tried, it was impossible.
Everything changed three months ago when her uncle visited. He lived in Jakarta and was on a business trip to their hometown, so he stopped by. Her mother used that chance to practically beg him to support Susan's education—and he agreed.
The original plan was simple: Susan would stay at her uncle's house during her studies. But things suddenly changed. Just last month, her mother got a call saying her uncle had arranged a place for Susan closer to campus.
"It's more convenient for her, so she won't have to travel all the way from the west to the north just to attend classes," he said.
But days later, through another aunt, they found out what really happened: her uncle had gotten into a big fight with his wife, who was clearly unhappy with the idea of Susan living with them. To avoid future problems, he let his wife decide where Susan would stay.
And now here she was—sitting in a taxi, heading to a place she had never seen before.
"Aaahhh", screams when her head bangs against the car window. She straight away looked at the driver, upset. But the driver pretended nothing had happened, not even a simple word of sorry.
After passing the underpass, the driver suddenly veered toward the slow lane on the left. Indonesia follows left-hand traffic rules like the UK, meaning the slow lane is on the left. The way he cut across from the rightmost lane to the leftmost lane forced several cars behind him to blare their horns in protest.
Susan glanced at the driver, hoping to catch a glimpse of guilt—after all, he had just committed the same kind of reckless maneuver he had been complaining about earlier. But all she saw was his indifferent expression, as if he simply didn't care.
Realizing that expecting the driver to behave was about as realistic as expecting a donkey to fly, Susan just sniffled and turned her eyes back to the window. This time, she was more alert. Her left hand gripped the car's grab handle, ready to protect her head in case the driver pulled another wild maneuver.
A few minutes later, the car turned left right after passing a six-story building—her campus.
So this is going to be my place for the next four years, she thought as she looked at it. A small sense of pride warmed her chest. It wasn't a top-five university, but at least it was well-known, especially for its business program.
"What's the number again? The address!" the driver suddenly asked, making Susan swallow nervously. She quickly grabbed her phone from her bag and opened the WhatsApp message. Her uncle had sent the address yesterday—of course, his wife wasn't willing to talk to Susan directly about anything.
"Mawar Street, number 16," Susan read aloud.
"Okay," the driver nodded, slowing the car as he checked the house numbers.
"Here we go," he said before hitting the brakes a little too suddenly. But this time Susan was ready—she immediately pushed her hand against the passenger seat in front of her, keeping herself from slamming into it.
Once the car stopped, the driver jumped out and hurried to the trunk to unload her luggage.
Susan looked at the meter, took out some money from her wallet, and then stepped out of the car. She didn't even notice the driver grumbling about how heavy her luggage was.
She just stood there, frozen beside the taxi, staring at the house where she'd be staying for the next four years—a house chosen by her aunt, who clearly picked this place just to show how unhappy she was about Susan being here at all.
"Okay, all done. Wow, your luggage is so heavy—are you moving houses or what?" the driver asked as he walked toward Susan.
"Yeah," she replied shortly, not interested in talking. She quickly handed him the money she'd prepared. The only thing she wanted now was to get rid of the driver as fast as possible.
He took the money, then paused. "Uhh… I don't have any change," he said with a teasing grin.
Susan frowned. She knew exactly what he was hinting at. Tipping wasn't exactly a habit here, but taxi drivers loved using this excuse to squeeze a bit more from passengers.
"It's fine. Just keep the change," she said flatly, her face sour.
"Thanks!" The driver grinned wider and hopped back into the car, reversing out of the alley like he was scared she might change her mind.
As the taxi backed away, Susan stood next to her luggage, staring at the house that was supposed to be her new home. The house looked old, its walls covered in patches of moss. It was a three-story building, but from where she stood, she could only see part of the second-floor balcony. Her eyes drifted to the third floor, where a room with a large window stood out. The window was filthy, with peeling paint everywhere. She couldn't see inside at all because the grey curtain behind it was pulled tightly shut.
The balcony in front of the third floor was covered in dried, dying vines. Instead of making the place look charming, the vines only added a creepy vibe to the whole house.
This was nothing like the place she imagined living in—but it was all she had. Complaining about her aunt's choice would only give the woman more fuel to burn… and Susan had no energy for unnecessary drama.
She took one last deep breath and clenched her fists.
"Never mind. I can handle this," she whispered to herself before pulling her luggage toward the gate.
If she had stayed still for just a moment longer—just a few seconds—she might have noticed the curtain on the third floor shift, as if someone inside had just pulled it aside.