The Last Ride Home

 It was the seventh month of the lunar calendar — the so-called “Ghost Month.” The night was hot, yet the wind kept blowing now and then, each breeze carrying an odd chill that crept under the skin. Adam was working late at his part-time job at a convenience store. The shop wasn’t a 24-hour store, but its doors stayed open later than most since the area had plenty of students who craved snacks or last-minute essentials at odd hours.

Adam got this job thanks to Kevin, his childhood friend, who lived just around the block. They’d known each other since they were kids, practically grew up together. Kevin was rough around the edges — a troublemaker with a cheap motorbike, often mistaken for some local thug. But Adam knew the real Kevin, the boy who had no father figure, who was raised by a single mother and got used to the sound of her boyfriend's fists more than bedtime stories. They bonded over small things — especially the day Adam gave Kevin a hollographic Pokémon card for his birthday, a card Kevin treasured like it was worth a fortune.

That night, as Adam was locking up, he heard a faint knock on the glass. When he checked the CCTV, no one was there. His stomach tightened, but he brushed it off, muttering under his breath, "Please don’t kacau me...^[1]"

As he prepared to leave, another sound came — clear this time.

"Adam..."

The hairs on his neck stood. He bolted through the remaining closing tasks, locked the door, and hurried off toward the bus station. He didn’t dare run too openly, afraid of what might be following. Every shadow, every sound, fed his imagination.

"Adam..."

The voice echoed again, even closer. Panic took over, and this time he sprinted, praying he’d find someone at the station. Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder. His heart stopped. He thought: This is it.

Out of instinct, he began reciting every prayer he could remember, voice shaking, until the familiar sound of laughter broke the tension.

“I didn’t know you were so religious, bro!”

Kevin stood there, grinning like a schoolboy. Adam, overwhelmed with a mix of relief and anger, cursed him without holding back. Kevin just laughed harder.

Their conversation flowed naturally as if the fear was never there.

“You stupid fella, I almost shit my pants!” Adam snapped.

Kevin chuckled. “You sure you didn’t? I think I smelled something funny coming from you.”

Adam shook his head. “Tch. Hey, you got no other shirt ah? This one so worn-out also still wear. When reach home, I give you one of mine la, got a shirt someone gave me, fits you better.”

Kevin, for once, didn’t snap back. He only gave a small smile. Something felt off, but Adam didn’t press it.

As they walked toward the bus station, the conversation shifted. The laughter softened, replaced by old stories. They talked about the past — the stupid fights, the silly games, the days when it felt like the world was only the two of them against everything else.

When they reached the bus stop, Adam paused and suddenly remembered.

"Eh bro, where's your kapcai^[2]? Rosak ah^[3]? Aiyo^[4], if you brought it, you could’ve fetched me home. No need to wait for this slow bus."

Kevin simply nodded. His silence hung heavy.

Adam, puzzled, tried to lighten the mood. "No wonder la, you so quiet today. Your beloved iron horse down, sure emo ^[5]. Don’t worry, I still got some savings. Enough to help you get a new one. I loan you first, you can slowly pay me back."

Kevin’s smile was faint, and his reply even fainter. "Thanks, bro."

Just then, the bus arrived. As the door opened, a strange cold wind brushed past Adam, sharp enough to make him shiver. He blamed it on his nerves, still haunted by Kevin's earlier prank, and urged Kevin to hop on.

The bus was surprisingly crowded for that hour, but there were still empty seats at the back. Both of them sat down, quietly watching the night slide past the windows. Adam, tired from the shift, leaned back and was about to tell Kevin to wake him when they reached home — but before he could speak, Kevin broke the silence.

"Adam... my only true friend. I know I’m not the best person, but you stuck by me, even when the world didn’t. I’ll really miss you, and I did this because I wanted to."

Adam, puzzled, turned to him. "Yo bro, you okay?"

Kevin looked at him one last time, the same peaceful expression, and softly said:

"The bus has arrived."

Adam turned his head to the window, expecting to see his neighborhood, but instead was blinded by an overwhelming flash of white light.

When his senses returned, he wasn’t on the bus anymore. He was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by family. Disoriented, he asked what had happened.

One of his relatives, tears in their eyes, explained:

A fire broke out at the store that night. Someone, driven by jealousy, had set it ablaze. Adam had been trapped inside, unconscious from the smoke. Kevin was nearby when it happened. Despite the fire brigade stopping him, he got on his kapcai^[2], rammed through the barricades, and dashed into the flames. He managed to push Adam out through a broken window before the ceiling caved in on him.

Adam sat there, stunned. A part of him still expected Kevin to pop out and yell, “Gotcha!” as he always did. But his mother quietly placed something into his hands — something recovered from Kevin’s body, found still clutched in his hand despite everything.

It was the hollographic Pokémon card. The same one Adam had given him all those years ago. The writing on it, faded and old, still read:

"To my friend, Kevin. From Adam."

In that moment, Adam realized:
In life, it’s not always grand gestures or perfect words that matter, but the quiet loyalty we show, the small kindness we give, and the choices we make for those who truly care for us. Kevin’s life was full of hardships, but when it came to Adam — his only true friend — he had no hesitation to give everything, even his life.

---

[1] "Kacau" is a Malay word meaning "to disturb" or "bother."

[2] "Kapcai" is a colloquial term in Malaysia and other parts of Southeast Asia referring to small, underbone motorcycles, often used as a primary mode of transportation.

[3] "Rosak" is a Malay word meaning "faulty" or "damaged."

[4] "Aiyo" is an interjection used to express various emotions, most commonly surprise, disappointment, or mild annoyance. It's similar to the English phrases "oh no," "oh my," or "oh dear".

[5] In Malaysian slang, "emo" (short for "emotional") is used to describe someone who is easily affected by emotions or who exhibits strong emotional reactions.