If you think high school is scary, try holding a piece of ancient batik that suddenly hisses at you.
I should probably start at the beginning.My name Alya Saraswati, sixteen, professional bookworm, amateur caffeine addict, and—according to my teachers—"promising, if only she'd talk more in class." Yeah, well, maybe if class wasn't three straight hours of formulas that made my brain cry, I would.
Anyway, the disaster started on what should have been the most boring school trip of the year. Our history teacher thought dragging us to a dusty old museum in Jakarta would "enrich our cultural knowledge." What it really did was enrich the layer of sweat under my school blazer.
I wasn't even looking at the exhibit when it happened. I was too busy taking notes like the responsible nerd I am. Then—bam. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the batik cloth in the glass case… move. Not like a breeze-rustle. Like a snake uncurling.
I froze.Cloth doesn't usually slither. Cloth doesn't usually hiss, either.
"Uh, did anyone else see that?" I whispered.Of course, nobody was paying attention. Half the class was busy taking selfies for Instagram. The other half was daring each other to touch the creepy stone statue of some elephant-headed god. Typical.
The batik's patterns shimmered—red lines twisting into shapes I swore looked like sharp teeth. The air turned heavy, like the room itself was holding its breath. And before I could blink, the fabric pushed against the glass.
Glass cracked.The batik lunged.
Yep. You heard that right. The thousand-year-old piece of cloth came alive and tried to wrap itself around me like I was a burrito.
I stumbled back, but it was fast. Threads lashed out, wrapping my wrist, my arm, tugging me forward. My throat went dry. This was not in the museum brochure.
"Help!" I yelped, but my voice came out smaller than I wanted. Nobody noticed—except one boy.
Raka Adiwangsa.Class clown, troublemaker, professional bad idea in human form. He was supposed to be laughing at his own jokes in the back row. Instead, he was staring at me like he actually knew what was happening.
And then—this is the part that really fried my brain—he shouted:"Don't let it touch your neck! That's how it drains your soul!"
Excuse me, what?!
So yeah, that was the moment I realized two things:
One My class trip wasn't going to be boring.
Two My life had just gone completely insane.