Black Avatare

12 | FLOWER

The sun peeped through the jackfruit trees, but the mist was still thick, shrouding the undergrowth and clinging to leaves. Binara hummed a song as she clutched her doll and tramped through the grass. The rain had stopped during the night, and petrichor filled her nose. She wanted to pick some binara flowers but most had wilted. She was determined to find good ones nevertheless.

"Malki," Binara said, holding up her doll, "I will get you flowers today. I promise!"

The rich purple of binara would go well with the doll's dress—even her own. She resumed her quest, short legs wading through ferns.

It occurred to her that she had ventured further than she thought. Binara shaded her eyes and looked around. On one side, the closed wing of the house glowered down, partially covered by foliage. She wasn't supposed to wander far, but in the distance, there was a telltale splotch of purple, beckoning her into the gloom.

She lengthened her steps, sneakers crunching leaves and twigs. The sunrays were too weak to dissipate the mist, and it grew thicker until visibility plunged to near zero. Binara whirled around, straining to see. A twinge of worry squeezed her heart.

"Malki, are we lost?" she mumbled.

The doll made no response. Binara hugged Malki tighter and tried to find her way back. She tripped over a root and fell to her knees. It hurt only a little, so she decided not to cry. Instead, her eyes landed on a dab of violet right before her. It was a perfect binara bloom.

"So pretty..." She plucked it, spirits soaring. "Malki, isn't it lovely?"

Another bloom peeked through the grass, just a few feet away.

She had picked five flowers when she came upon loose rocks. It only meant one thing. Sure enough, the old well loomed into view, crusted with moss and lichen.

Binara's heart stuttered. She had sensed something in its depths on many occasions. It was there now, stronger than ever.

Even as she watched, tendrils emerged from the well—slow, gaseous and ethereal. This smoky substance collected mass and spilled over the rim. Terror paralyzed Binara, turning her legs to lead. Then the entity itself hovered into view—a pale boy with black holes for eyes.

Binara screamed. Panic clouded her brain, and she broke into a stumbling run. The flowers fell from her hands, violet petals scattering in the air.

She hurtled on, one arm hugging the doll. The fog pressed in as if to blot her out and absorb her into its dreary whiteness. Leaves and branches thwacked her arms, each hit jolting her frayed nerves. She couldn't help imagining the apparition giving chase. Sobs shook her little form as her wild eyes darted around, but she might as well have been blind. It didn't help that her vision blurred, drowned in tears.

Suddenly, the mist thinned ahead, revealing the deserted side of the walauwa. Binara slowed down and panted, each breath as shaky as her limbs. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the building. It was dark and foreboding, with ornamental eaves and high windows, barred with grilles. Everything was deathly still, except for the movement of the tree limbs, their leaves a solemn green.

She was about to continue running when something else snagged her gaze. A cloaked figure approached her, fabric trailing over the grass.

It was the strange girl Binara saw at the window.

Out in the open, the girl's hair bobbed with each step, short and lustrous as it caught the foggy light. She was a vision in black but for her flower hairpin, its purple hue as vibrant as the real deal. A peculiar expression veiled her face, as if it was caught between warring emotions.