The sharp smell of eucalyptus oil mixed with the sour stench of sweat filled the three-by-four-meter school health room. The white-painted iron bed in the corner creaked loudly every time Sella’s body arched upward, struggling against the grip of the two school-duty teachers trying to calm her down.
“Imran! Let me go!” Sella screamed hysterically. Her voice was hoarse, raspy, and nearly breaking. Her tan face was slick with sweat, while her round eyes bulged wide without focus, staring blankly at the ceiling.
I stood frozen in the doorway, crowded together with a bunch of other students who were just as curious about Sella’s condition. Behind me, Rika clutched my uniform sleeve. “Lana, what’s wrong with Sella? I swear, this is so creepy. She doesn’t look like herself at all,” Rika whispered, her voice trembling.
I didn’t answer. My attention was completely locked on the corner of the room, near the aluminum-framed medicine cabinet. Grandma with the dragon-headed staff and the betel-chewing woman stood side by side there. Grandma with the staff was gripping it tightly. The friendly smile had vanished from her face, which now looked tense, while her hunched body trembled violently. To her right, the betel-chewing woman hissed angrily, spitting repeatedly onto the floor. Her thick red spit instantly evaporated into black ash the moment it touched the tiles.
“Calm down, Sella. Easy, kid. Drink some warm water first, okay?” Ms. Retno coaxed in a trembling voice, trying to bring a glass of warm water to Sella’s lips. Instead of obeying, the girl knocked the glass away with a rough swipe of her hand. Water splashed everywhere, soaking the white sheet with blue stripes. Sella screamed again, her eyes fixed sharply on the school health room’s glass window, which looked out onto the front courtyard. The door suddenly flew open. Mr. Darmawan, our principal, stepped inside with a tense expression, followed by Mr. Imran.
“Sella isn’t in any condition to attend class today. Contact her parents right now. Tell them to take her home and let her rest,” Mr. Darmawan said.
“But, Mr. Darmawan… Sella keeps saying Mr. Imran’s name. Shouldn’t Mr. Imran talk to her first?” Ms. Retno suggested hesitantly, glancing toward the new history teacher.
Mr. Imran slowly shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Ms. Retno. Students in an unstable psychological state often hallucinate and say the names of anyone they’ve seen recently. I have no particular connection to Sella.”
The betel-chewing woman suddenly leaped forward, clawing at the empty air in front of Mr. Imran’s face while shrieking in a hoarse voice. It seemed that I was the only one who could see the supernatural woman’s behavior.
“Don’t come any closer, Lana,” Grandma with the dragon-headed staff whispered, warning me.
Sella was finally calmed down with a sedative injection from the school’s regular community health clinic medic. The girl was carried outside to her family’s black MPV, which was already parked in front of the main gate.
I could see the tall, massive, faceless black shadow reappearing beside Sella’s family car. It suddenly wrapped its arms tightly around the girl’s body, its long, thin arms tipped with sharp claws that pierced through Sella’s school uniform. My body grew even more rigid when the creature’s smooth, bald head tilted upward and it flashed me a wide grin.
“Don’t look at it, Lana! Back away!” Grandma with the dragon-headed staff pulled me backward until I slammed into the school corridor wall. The betel-chewing woman even crouched in front of me on all fours, positioning herself to shield me from the black creature’s gaze.
The black car finally drove away from the school grounds. With about twenty minutes of break time still left, Rika and I decided to walk back to the Grade Ten Beauty and Makeup class. The upper-floor corridor was nearly deserted because most of the students were still gathered in the cafeteria or on the basketball court, talking about Sella’s possession.
“That was so creepy, Lana. I’ve been getting chills thinking about Sella. Why did she get so hysterical?” Rika squeaked, rubbing both of her arms.
“I don’t know either, Rika,” I answered softly, keeping the truth about the black shadow and the two supernatural grandmothers’ warning tightly to myself.
As soon as we pushed open the not-quite-closed door of the Grade Ten Beauty and Makeup classroom, the atmosphere inside made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The heavy smell of cheap incense mixed with the fresh scent of jasmine assaulted my nose, completely different from the usual aromas of hairspray and loose powder.
In the middle row, four of our classmates—Nina, the girl with two braids, and her three friends, Ria, the tall, willowy student, Wati, and Intan—sat cross-legged on the cold ceramic floor. In front of them lay a medium-sized sheet of thin plywood marked with the letters of the alphabet arranged in a circle, the numbers zero through nine, and the words “YES” and “NO.” An old golden-yellow metal coin sat right in the center of the board, lightly touched by the tips of Nina, Ria, Wati, and Intan’s index fingers.
The white fluorescent light overhead flickered weakly twice before finally going out, leaving the classroom lit only by midday sunlight filtering through the dusty windowpanes. Nina slowly lifted her face. Her eyes looked empty, her lips stretched into an unnaturally wide smile, and she whispered softly toward me:
“Lana, look. We just managed to summon it.”