Naya Putryansyah

“When Love Requires Death” by Naya Putryansyah

Submitted to Contest #247

I’ve always been a serious learner. Before I graduated, I grinded my nose into my homework every day, night and hour. My friends told me to take a break and go out, maybe do something else other than studying, but I’d always refuse. The side of my middle finger was always red, for there was a pencil in my fingers as long as I was awake. A homework or exam preparation sheet was always in front of me, even at mealtimes.  I barely slept each semester, but, oddly, I never had any eyebags or got tired. If I do sleep, I will fall asleep holdi...

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“Oh, Cecilia!” by Naya Putryansyah

Submitted to Contest #246

Nobody likes Cecilia. She sits alone on her desk at school, eats alone at the cafeteria, and lives alone. She wears small glasses, set on her even smaller nose, that always slips and she has to push it up every five minutes. She's the weird kid who somehow managed to get all through the tests and examinations and due-soon homework. She's the nerdy kid who wears a too-straight outfit and has a button-like nose. Even the school bullies don't think she's worth bullying. The teachers shake their heads at her, and she's the only kid that was brav...

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“In Your Comfortable Bed” by Naya Putryansyah

Submitted to Contest #245

The stars filled up the sky as the blazing sun went down. My eyes scanned the heavens for any sort of air attack that might take away my life. So far, none has appeared. The ground was moist and soft, the soil watered with cloud tears. The air around me was damp, like a just-unloaded washing machine. The sound of crickets was heavy in the air, making up a natural choir. The weight of my make-shift bag was ponderous against my back, my legs aching so much it felt like lead. Even so, I forced a step after the other, trying to balance my breath...

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“Trust Breaker” by Naya Putryansyah

"Mum?" I yelled, as I stood in front of the work-desk in my living room. In front of me was a picture, of my mum with a guy. But it wasn't my dad. "Yes, dear?" My mum answered, "What is it? I'm cooking dinner," she continued. My eyebrows shot up as my brain made connections. "Can you come here for a second, mum?" I yelled back. A patter of footsteps and a string of curses later, mum arrived, panting. "Did you just run a marathon, mum?" I said, incredulously. She shook her head and frowned, "Enough jokes, what did you want to tell me?" She pu...

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“snail-like” by Naya Putryansyah

Author's note: I'm so very sorry, for this story isn't really related to the prompt, but I really wanna share with you guys, my Reedsy readers.Thanks and lots of love,Naya. Be a snail. WhAt? hOW? Alright, so a snail has slime trailing under it. I don’t know where it comes from, but I think I’ll know if I research but let’s just focus on the slime and not where it came from, for now. To be honest, I’m kinda icky with slimy slime, so that might be another excuse. Anyways, yeah, a snail has slime behind it and a heavy shell on its back, its we...

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“Regret Hurts” by Naya Putryansyah

Submitted to Contest #244

The air was musty, the scent of rotting fish thick in the air. My breathing was ragged as I looked down on the pale figure. His eyes were dreamy, but somehow lost at the same time. It seemed like he was searching for something that didn't exist. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was searching for life. But his body is lifeless now. I was the one that caused that. The 9 mm pistol in my hand fell loose of my grasp and it dropped with a soft thud onto the moist ground. My breathing got heavier as I heard the blare of police sirens. This is it. I'...

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“A Life Worth Living” by Naya Putryansyah

Submitted to Contest #243

Have you ever imagined a world where time doesn't exist? Time is useless, for the only time we have is our life, and how can we 'measure' it? Even if we can, how are we to possibly build a time measuring invention? Impossible, yes, so the only thing we have to so-called 'measure' our time, or lives, is our immune bracelets. An immune bracelet, or IB, is a band of light metal, stuck around our waist, and yes it can be adjustable. It has a small screen on it, that shows just exactly how many breaths we have left. I've tried to count how long i...

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“In The Night” by Naya Putryansyah

trigger warning: creepy descriptions of k1lling. The lights dimmed as a man in a black tuxedo strutted around the gallery, his hands automatically pressing the switches etched in the wall. Pinned onto the man's chest, was a name tag, and it displayed a picture of a middle-aged man, with rough, brown hair, a messy moustache above his lips. His face was emotion-less, bland, monotone. Even as he did his night-guard duty, his face was blank, his eyes drifting randomly, his feet shuffling along uncomfortably. He was nervous. He quickened his pac...

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“bbf - backstabbing best friend” by Naya Putryansyah

warning - violence; beating up, pain, fear. mental health; broken home, poverty, minors. "Have you ever thought about what I feel?!" I yelled at Marina. My beautiful dress, the one I've been working on for so long and so hard lay in pitiful, tattered rips of fabric. Marina glared daggers at me, her eyes flashing dangerously. She crossed her arms with a frown, "I don't care," she said, her voice severely cold, "What happens to you and your nasty dress!!" A few unshed tears made their way down my cheek. I pointed an accusing finger at her, "...

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“Tears and Ketchup” by Naya Putryansyah

(trigger warning: sadness and possible death) Sweat dropped in beads behind my ear and from my forehead. It was just a typical, very hot day in Jakarta. I wrinkled my nose as I smelled the sharp scent of thick carbon dioxide filling my lungs. The body protector I was wearing just added to my discomfort. It stuck tight to my front, and I felt as if I were wearing a rather tight corset. I’d promised myself I’d never take it off, though, because I had promised my father that. My father sent it to me a while back when he found out I got a job as...

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“The Little Things” by Naya Putryansyah

The wind whistled in my ears. The waves crashed onto my small boat, drenching it in freezing, salty water. The mast creaked eerily, which wasn't a surprise, considering it looked like sponge bob, with its many holes. I was drenched myself, and as I fervently prayed to god, my frame shivered with cold and my brains felt as if it was being burned. My guts felt like they were constantly tossed around, lurching here and there wildly. Seagulls circled my boat, flapping their wings ardently and cooing loudly. The waves crashed into me once more, a...

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“For The Last Time” by Naya Putryansyah

(dont cry. this story is very sad and not safe for emotionally sensitive readers or story-consumers. good luck on trying not to cry while reading this. i hope this is enough of an emotional roller-coaster to make you cry.) The cold and blunt wind pierced my face like a sharpened knife. I heaved my ponderous bag, and forced myself to put a foot after the other, crunching into the 2 meter deep snow. ...

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“A Heartwarming Read.” by Naya Putryansyah

The day I met him, my heart fell out of my chest, butterflies swarmed my stomach by the thousands, my mind whirled in a state of euphoria and my eyes were glued to his figure. It was the day I met my forever soulmate. He was my co-worker in a start-up tech business company named Zer0, and we were introduced to each other by our boss, for I had just joined their big family. ...

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“Just One Step” by Naya Putryansyah

I've run my whole life. Of course, I'm an Olympic winner. I own three gold, two silver, and one bronze medals hung in my bedroom. I was trained since I was little, and my long legs have carried me far, even around the world. People recognise me as the great runner that won the Olympics. I side autographs on hats, books, and whatever else, and I take pictures with my fans. This always hap...

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“Night Falls” by Naya Putryansyah

The cold air stung my face as my tired legs carried me down the pedestrian side of the street. Many ads were hung up everywhere, and graffiti covered the walls. Typical cityscape. My stomach rumbled as my eyes blurred. I couldn't read any of the signs, either graffiti or ad, because I'm dyslexic. I had been walking on and on, trying to find a place to eat and hide from the...

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