A dedicated space for anyone who’s ever had a supernatural experience.
Let’s demystify the world unseen. We learn a little more with every story shared. Increase the knowledge repository by telling your story here.
Confession by Ram
Malaysia has a famous urban legend of a Phantom Yellow Beetle that haunts the Karak highway. You would probably have heard of it. There was one night I had to drive back from a durian plantation in Pahang back to Kuala Lumpur, and that route meant I had to drive through Karak highway. Now, I'm not particularly spooked by the tale lah. I had driven along Karak many times and so far never encountered anything. But those times were in the day. Ghost stories aside, I had other things to worry about the Malaysian highway at night, and seeing the Volkswagen Kunning was the least of it.
As the living conditions in the plantation weren't suitable for my wife who was heavily pregnant at that time, we decided that if we drove slowly and carefully, we could minimize the risk of a night drive, and be home by 1 or 2am, in the comfort of our own beds.
From the beginning of the drive, I had already felt something wasn’t quite right. When walking to the car, we could smell the strong scent of the banana tree, which wasn't surprising because there were banana trees planted as shade for the young durian trees. When we got into the car however, the smell turned to something rotten. It was so strong, I had to wind down the window. In such situations, the best thing to do is to ignore these entities and the signs; never acknowledge them. I prayed under my breath and soon the car felt peaceful again. I felt that whatever that had been following us had left.
About an hour into the drive I turned into a petrol station to fill up my tank. When I pulled out of the station and back onto the highway, the car felt extremely heavy. I stepped on the accelerator and pushed my car all of the way.
Then knocking sounds started coming from the floor of the car - Knock knock knock. It really wanted us to know she’s there. By now it’s a bit hard to ignore.
I looked into the rear view and said to whoever was in my backseat to let us “tompang jalan”, meaning to excuse us if we had trespassed on “her” land. By "her", I’m sure you know who I'm referring to - the Pontianak.
If you have driven along Karak, you would see that on either side of the road are just plantations. If you are in need of any help along the way at this time of the night, you are quite screwed.
I prayed even harder till we got home. I left my car outside, instead of driving into the house. My wife and I quickly got in, showered thoroughly, prayed some more and went to sleep.
That night we slept peacefully.
The next morning, feeling more courageous in the day, my wife and I spoke about our experience. We both smelled and heard the same thing, so what we encountered could be validated. When we got into the car again to head out for lunch, we smelled the rotten smell again. This time stronger than ever, and we found a packet of durian apam that had been left in the car since yesterday afternoon and had probably turned bad in the enclosed heat of the car.
And also, I found out that I had driven home without disengaging the handbreaks, and according to the mechanics who serviced my car later that day, the sway bar link had broken off and was knocking on the undercarriage when I drove over bumpy roads.
So yeah. I guess there was no hantu. Just one goondoo driver.
Confession by Simon
I remember the day I enlisted to Pulau Tekong for Basic Military Training or BMT as we call it. I was deployed to Bravo company, bed twenty four, upper deck. My paranormal encounters started right after my first book in.
Lights off was at 10.00pm. Even though the day’s training had been tough, it was still difficult for me to fall asleep in a new environment. I kept tossing and turning, and adjusting the mosquito net. When I was finally on the verge of dozing off, I heard footsteps and the sounds of chains being dragged.
My initial thoughts were that it must be the platoon sergeant playing a prank on us - some form of hazing ritual for the new recruits - so I lay on my side, kept very still and pretended to be asleep.
Then I felt someone climb into my bed and tried to shove me off. The string holding up the mosquito net snapped and fell away. It got terribly cold. The noises from the crickets and other insects amplified.
Something started pulling at my hair.
I kept my eyes closed and braced myself against falling off the bed by stiffening my body. By now I knew it couldn’t have been my sergeant. After what felt like a few minutes of resisting, I fell, but instead of falling off the bed I fell from a height onto my bed. It was as if I had been levitating or was teleported.
Now lying on my back, I could hear and feel someone or something breathing heavily right beside my face. I couldn’t move at all.
My mother had given me a rosary to keep with me at all times for protection, and I remembered I had it in my shorts pocket. Though my body was paralyzed I still willed my fingers to reach for my pocket. I recited my prayers in my heart.
I heard a snap and felt that thing jumped away from my bed. I stayed motionless for a few minutes. Those few minutes must have turned to hours because the next sound I heard was my platoon mates getting up to prepare for the first parade.
When I finally plucked up the courage to open my eyes, the first thing I did was reach for the rosary in my pocket. It had broken into tiny bits as if it had been rolled over by a truck. When I eventually looked at myself in the mirror later, I noticed that the part of my head that I felt my hair being pulled was now a bald patch. I carried on with training but couldn’t shake off the feeling that what I had experienced was not just a dream, though I don’t really have any other explanation for it. I kept this experience to myself thinking that it was probably just a one off incident.
Even though there had been no further incident since, I felt safer having the rosary on me. After booking out that weekend, I went to church to get another rosary and have it blessed by the priest.
When I got back to camp, I placed the rosary at the foot of the bed. In case any entities approach my bed, it would be repelled before even getting the chance to get in bed with me.
That night, the encounter was even more ferocious than the first. My whole bunk bed and locker was shaking violently. I kept my eyes shut and prayed, but I could sense that something was hovering right above me. I heard a loud cracking sound, and then all of a sudden the entire commotion stopped. I got up to reach for my rosary but it was no longer there. I looked around and found it on the floor, broken into pieces, again.
Everyone else was asleep or in bed pretending to be asleep. It was as if I was the only one who heard the locker banging sounds.
The next morning I told my platoon sergeant about the incident and he told me, “don’t think so much, and don’t go around telling people or I make you sign seven extras.”
Signing extras mean staying back in camp alone or with other offenders while the bulk of the platoon book out for the weekend. I wasn’t going to stay here alone with whatever that was in the bunk, so I kept my mouth shut.
In my third book-in, I was armed with another rosary. This time, I had it around my neck. There was violent shaking of the bed or the locker this time, but instead I felt someone shaking me as if it wanted me to wake up and look at it. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep.
I could feel my blanket slid off me and an invisible force tightened its grip around my neck. It was trying to say something to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. That thing was very, very close. Right beside my ear. As it spoke, it could feel the breath against my face. I was paralyzed throughout the ordeal. I tried to scream but no sound came out; I couldn’t even breathe.
All I could do was pray. I kept praying and praying until there was the sound of a loud crack, and everything was quiet again. This third, and more direct assault, rattled me to my core and I didn’t dare open my eyes. I stayed in bed until I heard the sound of the other platoon mates starting the day. The rosary had shattered around my neck, just like the previous two.
This time, I wasn’t about to keep the experiences to myself. When I spoke to my buddy, I found out that he and others in my platoon had experienced some “disturbances'' but were reluctant to get into details. One of the platoon mates had brought talismans and he shared it around with us. We pasted it on both entrances to the bunk. Another sprinkled holy water around the place. We basically combined our religious forces. The following week when we came to be booked-in, the intensity of the haunting had de-escalated.
There were the noises and the occasional shaking, I still could feel someone hovering above me and talking to me, but I was not so afraid anymore. Maybe I was getting used to it, or I was getting braver knowing that I wasn’t the only one experiencing this. Power in numbers!
When we were nearing the end of our BMT, the platoon sergeant told us that he knew about the haunting. There was a recruit who was so afraid of National Service, he couldn’t handle the stress and hung himself from the ceiling fan that was above my bed. Then he added, “Don’t tell anyone, or I'll make you sign fourteen extras!”
Confession From Property Owner
My husband and I bought a house in Sambuca. It was in a quiet, rural part of west Sicily. Most people would avoid a place like this because it was old and far from civilization, but we loved it precisely for that. The Villa cost us about 100k sgd. With renovations and all, the total amount came up to about the price of a 2 room HDB in Singapore.
But a place that had been around for hundreds of years surely came with some ‘thing’. The moment we saw the place, I could tell him which parts of the house had ‘things’ but like typical ‘ang mos’, he didn’t believe in them.
I sensed about 3 ghosts in my house and they didn’t get along with one another. One of them is the spirit of a nanny, who seems to be stuck and wanders about the second level only. She is a grumpy old soul and didn’t like the renovation work being done. She would show her displeasure by knocking on walls and doors. My husband said it was just the old building making creaking noises.
It is always chilly in the cellar. In there lives two ghosts; the spirit of a man who died by hanging and another that was hacked to death with an axe. His body had been found hidden in the vat.
Every morning when I do my prayers, I dedicate merits to them. I think it took them by surprise when I didn’t chase them away. When they realize that I have no animosity towards them, I feel the energetic vibration reduce in intensity.
I even consider them the house guardians. When we are back in Singapore, and the house is vacant, I know they take care of the place and prevent other spirits from taking refuge in our house.
The thing about me is that I see ghosts since I was a child. As I got older, the spirits became clearer and more defined. There was a period of my life in Uni where I simply couldn’t function because I could see them all the time. Eventually I learnt that the best way to handle spirits is to show your compassion. Most times, they are like any normal human beings and mean no harm to us.
“Hey Merlion, can you come out for a while? You have a call from your mother…”
I was at my school’s orientation camp when I received the news that my beloved grandma had slipped into a coma and was rushed to the hospital. I dropped out of camp immediately to rush to her, tears flowing uncontrollably down my cheeks the entire journey on the cab to the hospital. We knew her time was coming soon but I thought she would’ve lasted till I returned from my orientation camp.
She passed on a few days later, not waking up from her coma for me to have the chance to tell her that I loved her, and to thank her for looking after me and bringing up my siblings and me. That was my last regret; I never got to express in person my love and gratitude while she was still alive.
But, even though I didn’t get to see her in her last moments of life, I had the fortune to see her in the first moments after her death.
Shortly after her passing was certified by the doctors, my grandma’s body was wheeled into a small holding room at the end of the ward. We said our last tearful goodbyes as our new reality of life without Ah Ma slowly sinked in. When we were done, the elder family members left the room to discuss her funeral arrangements. Us, kids, stood outside the room and waited around in case the elders needed us to run errands.
I stood there, still staring at the door that separated us from my grandma’s lifeless body. “Ah ma has passed away”, I told the other part of me that was still in disbelief, “She’s gone.”.
Right at that moment, I saw my grandma fly - and I meant flying through the door of the holding room, towards the right and through the walls into the corridor of the hospital’s ward. She was covered in a silvery-blue glow and looked as if she was radiating light of her own. She had the biggest smile on her face. In that instance that I saw her, I had a sense of pure happiness from deep within me and the words “I’M FREE!!” forming in my mind. I think that that was the moment her soul left the body after being trapped in a comatose state for a few days. It had discovered the new found freedom of movement and perhaps, even the ability to fly around! That very short glimpse of her brought great comfort to me, at least I know for real that she is happy now.
I would catch a few more glimpses of her at her funeral. You know how at Chinese funerals, a chair would be adorned with the deceased’s clothes behind the altar and a portrait placed in front of the coffin? Multiple times I saw a shadow figure wearing grandma’s favorite blouse sitting in that chair, throughout the five-day funeral. I would then go up to the chair at the altar and whisper the five words I wished I had said to her while she was alive: “I love you, thank you.” and really hoped that she could hear me.
The last time I saw her was almost a year after she passed on. It was a Saturday morning and I was asleep in my room. I had a lucid dream and was aware of my actions in the dream.
In that dream, I was awoken by a strange buzzing sound in my room. I sat up in my bed and saw a window appearing on the blank wall directly in front of me. The window was made of wood similar to those you see on the old shophouses along Chinatown. After the window fully materialized, it opened into my room. I saw a vast darkness that appeared to stretch on forever. Occasionally someone would walk past the window on the other side and they wore olden day clothing like what you’d see in Mediacorp’s period dramas of pre-war Singapore, like ‘Wu Suo Nan Yang’. Strangely, even though the place was void of any light, the people who walked past the window looked like they were self-illuminating with their own glow of light. (The closest visual example of what I saw through the window would be the scenes of ‘The Further’ in the Insidious movie franchise.)
Anyway I was just looking into the window and wondering what the hell was a magic window doing in my room when a familiar figure of an old lady walked into the frame of the window, turned around to face me and said “hello”.
“It’s Ah Ma!” I kept calling for her in my dream, “Ah Ma! Ah Ma!”. She just smiled, waved to me and said gently “Hallow, ah boy, hallow”. I guess the regrets I previously had still ran deep because even in my dreams I instinctively shouted back those few words again. “Ah Ma! I love you! Thank you! Thank you for looking after me when I was young and watching me grow up! I love you, Ah Ma!” I shouted incessantly as if this was my last chance to let her know how I felt. She smiled contentedly and replied “I know, I know. I love you too. Ah ma has to go now. Okay, bye bye, bye bye.” With that, she took a step back, fading into the void as the magic window closed itself and disappeared. I then jolted awake to find myself seated in my bed like how I was seating in my dream. A dream… it was all a dream… but it felt so real. I asked myself if my Ah Ma was really here.
I got up and went outside. It was earlier than the time I usually got up on weekends but I couldn’t go back to sleep after that emotional dream. I decided to turn on the TV in the living room and waited for my siblings to wake up. Oddly enough, about 5-10 minutes later, my sister walked out of her room, earlier than usual as well. She looked at me, surprised to see me awake that early too. Then she said, “I just dreamt of Ah Ma.”
“Strange, me too.” I chirped in.
We shared the details of our dreams with each other and settled down to watch the TV. A few minutes later, my brother walked out of his room. We nonchalantly asked if he had dreamt of our grandma. He was puzzled and asked, “How did you know?”
“We dreamt of her too.”
I believe that morning, she came into each of our dreams to say goodbye for the final time. In that dream I finally heard her telling me that she knew I loved her and was ever so thankful that she brought us up.
Confession by Roy Ng
When I got married, my mom bestowed upon me a vintage handcrafted dish cabinet that she had inherited from her mom when she got married. It was very well made and extremely heavy; ihe type that requires four movers to lift. It’s slightly taller and broader than a fridge. Both doors are netted, and the cabinet stood on four ornate legs carved to look like dragon’s feet. The top has some ornate designs like flowers or phoenixes or some winged creature. I have seen this cabinet and lived with it all my life, but never really took much notice of it.
The cabinet came along with sets of pretty dishes and cutleries, the kind of designs you would find in the Peranakan Museum. By my estimation, these were much more modern compared to the cabinet.
The wife however didn’t like the cabinet all that much. She felt it was more of a burden than a gift. The cabinet didn’t go with the design and look that she had intended for the new house. And due to its sheer size, it’s going to take up valuable real estate in the tiny HDB flat. It can’t fit in the kitchen, so in the dining area it would have to go, but if you are familiar with HDB flats, the dining room has enough size for only one dining table and six chairs. So the next best thing is to put it in the living room. Dish cabinet in the living room? You can see why the wife is upset.
When I tried to decline, my mom said it wasn’t a choice. Granny had given her strict instructions for the cabinet to be passed to me when I, the only son in the family, was married and mom intended to keep that promise. Granny believed this was a magical cabinet that was going to ensure a smooth life for the owner; that there is always going to be food on the table.
Granny had inherited it from her mother-in-law who told her the same thing. We are not sure how many generations this cabinet has passed hands, but by the structure of its build, I think plastic bags may degrade faster than this chunk of wood.
I understand granny’s good intentions but it’s really just… not that practical in this time and age, lah. Besides, granny had already passed on more than a decade ago, so she probably wouldn’t mind if the cabinet stays where it was at my mom’s place. Saying that out loud got me an earful from my mom: “yau siew budak! Ungrateful ah!”
Mom believed in the magic of the cabinet too, citing that we never had any financial issues and that we were blessed to always be able to put food on the table.
Up to this point in my life; I hadn’t believed in the supernatural and superstitious beliefs were just stories from the past because people were less educated. People say cannot enter hotel room without knocking on the room door first, cannot pee on trees at night, or cannot step on burnt joss offerings during Seventh month Hungry Ghost Festival. I did all that also like that
To me, the threat from my wife throwing me and the cabinet out was more real than the magic cabinet.
To make life easy for me, I’m going to agree with both ladies. I will accept the gift from mom, keep the plates, and then give or sell the cabinet away to someone else who would appreciate it better. Everybody wins.
But that’s the start of all the problems…. for the new owner of the cabinet.
I gave the cabinet away for free. The only caveat is that the new owner needs to settle the movers and transport over. I stated in the description the dimension of the cabinet and its probable weight - 3 tonnes.
It was snapped up within the week and I was happy to have solved the problem. About slightly less than a month later, the new owner called me again and said I needed to take it back. It sounded urgent.
I told him that he could give it away, because I don’t want it. Then he replied that I must take it back, and without any further word, he , nothing happened.
said he was going to arrange for it to be sent back to me and hung up.
But here’s the thing. He doesn’t know my new address, so where the cabinet was going to end up would be at my parent’s place. That was going to create more problems for me. Not ⅝&5 to have this conversation on the phone, I texted him for the address on the pretext that I was coming to help see to the removal.
The owner lives in a large three story semi-detached house. From the front porch, I can see an eclectic collection of furniture and fittings which gives the house a Bali resort feel.
The new owner invited me in and seemed calmer than he was over the phone.
“What seems to be the problem,” I asked. “You have the space for it and clearly the cabinet matches the rest of the furniture.”
That’s when he told me that his family hasn’t had proper sleep in a month. Every night, there would be a sound of a woman wailing coming from the cabinet. At first they thought it was the maid crying and chose to ignore it, giving her the privacy to grief. They imagined it was probably due to relationship matters.
A week later, the family was woken up to the sound of glass breaking. When they came down to check, they also saw the maid running into the kitchen at the same time. The ceramic plates that the new owner
had placed inside the cabinet looked as if they were tossed out against the wall. The broken pieces lay scattered all over the place.
When the family and the maid sat down to discuss the event, they learned from the maid that the crying sound was not only at night. It happened during the day too, and it certainly did not come from her. The cabinet door would open and close on its own. When the maid was in the kitchen preparing meals for the family, her knife would shift around the place when she wasn’t looking.
When asked if the maid was afraid, she said she was but as a staunch Catholic she prayed for courage and protection and that her God would prevail.
When the wife of the owner asked the maid, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” The maid replied, “how to tell you mam? Say got ghost in the cabinet ah? How you believe me?”
The next thing the family did - they were free thinkers by the way- was to negotiate with the ghost in the cabinet. “What is it you want to make your life better here, let us know.”
After that incident, the following weeks the family started getting vivid dreams. The wife would dream of a woman dressed in an old Javanese outfit asking to go home. She kept saying “Ibu maki”. The wife felt it was an odd statement because she did anything but scold the spirit. If anything at all they welcomed her to their home.
The husband dreamt of a woman running around the house, and hiding in various rooms or under the beds. Other shadowy figures were chasing her. Large silhouettes, towering so high they were hunched against the ceiling.
There was an overall sense that time was running out. What exactly would happen, they cannot say.
The children felt generally fine. The parents shielded them from the actual story and if they had felt anything, they didn’t say.
From their collective dreams they decided that the spirit wanted to return to the original owner, fast.
I didn’t know what to make of their encounter. I had lived with that cabinet all my life and had encountered nothing like this. At the same time, this story would be unnecessary at all if the new owner had a change of heart and wanted to get rid of it.
In any case, I thought to myself that I will just bring it back home first while I find a new buyer.
The wife wasn’t happy, of course. The compromise is that the cabinet will be placed outside the house. Which I was agreeable to because it would mean it would be easier for the movers to take it and go when I found a new buyer. In the meantime, the dish cabinet became a shoe cabinet.
To date, I have had no dreams. No crying woman. The previous owner too has no more encounters the day the cabinet left their home.
So what do you make of this Eugene? Is my cabinet haunted? How do you explain what that family encountered? You are free to take this cupboard for the occult museum you are setting up if I haven’t found any buyers by then.
Confession by Roy
Eugene, I’ve got a confession for you that I don’t think you have ever heard of before.
I’m a 5th generation Singaporean and I know little about my family lineage beyond my grandfather. I know the snippets of information like my great, great grandfather sailed to Singapore in the early 1800’s. Apparently he came from a wealthy and powerful family but something happened and he was forced to flee. He put his wife and son on a boat to sail southwards and promised to catch up on the next boat but he never made it over.
My great, great grandfather was just a young boy back then, and they were forced to sell most of the family jewels and items in order to rebuild their lives and survive. Whatever that was left was of little real historical value. Whenever this piece of family history came up at gatherings I'd groan and say, “Wasted, if only he survived, my family and I would be living comfortably in one of those large bungalows in Sixth Avenues or have a road named after our family.”
One of the regrets my grandfather had was that he wasn’t able to fulfill his father’s last wish, which was to have him buried in his hometown.
He had however left behind a sword, one of the only remaining items of his father's. That sword is now somewhere in my storeroom tucked away in some old boxes. But that sword contains the soul of a chinese soldier who had vowed to take care of my great, great grandfather’s family and his descendants.
Now, how did I know this? Because I think that in one near death encounter, I had a visit from this spirit who told me things I never knew but was validated by my grandpa and dad after I got out of my coma and told my family what I saw.
I was involved in a motorbike accident in 2012, and from the wreckage, you wouldn't think I could have survived that crash. The insurance company that investigated the claims couldn’t believe it too. I was taking the exit from Lornie road to Eng Neo road, when a car sped past me, coming so close I was forced to swerve to my left. My tire must have clipped against the curb and I lost control of my vehicle. I slammed right into a tree and the bike broke into two parts.
I was brought to a hospital, concussed and in a coma for three days. But I had no recollection of it. In that time my consciousness was somewhere else, spiritually speaking. I had no recollection of any pain, or knowledge of being transported to hospital.
In that dream, I was walking along a forested path following an animal - seriously can’t remember what animal it was but it doesn’t matter - I followed this animal to a courtyard with a large house the type you see in period dramas. An old Chinese soldier in one of those ancient outfits was waiting there for me. It was a bit strange because the courtyard turned into a graveyard, even though the house and the wall still stood. I didn’t understand the significance of what I was seeing but I instinctively knew that it was my family home.
We talked, but the strange thing was I do not recall ever hearing him speak Mandarin or me speaking English, yet we spoke in a language I had no idea what but we could communicate. From him I learned that he and my great, great, great grandfather were good friends and that he had saved this soldier’s life and this soldier made a vow to return the debt ten fold. He has been looking after our family all these while. There were many things he imparted to me that I couldn’t remember, but there was this bit he said about my great, great, great, grandfather which I remembered: “He stayed behind to do the right thing, you should be proud of him.” I remember sobbing uncontrollably and asking where he was. The soldier just replied that he was not here. This went on a repeat loop for some time.
Eventually, he handed me his sword and said, “this is my solemn promise - ten folds to repay a debt.”
As I reached out to take the sword, I realized that my hands are not mine. I was looking out from the eyes of someone else. The body I was in was also dressed in ancient Chinese fashion. I took the sword and immediately woke up to find myself in a hospital bed.
There were a lot more that happened in my dream but by the time I managed to find the opportunity to jot down my encounter, I'd forgotten most of them. What I shared with you are the main points that perhaps my consciousness had thought was important enough to retain.
I didn’t tell my folks about the dream until much later. At that moment we were all happy that I was unharmed. Just minor scratches and bruises. For the most part, the bike took most of the damage. If ever there was a description of what a miracle looked like, this would be it.
Weeks later, still disturbed by the event, I began to slowly unpack what had happened and why everyone was so concerned. To be fair, I probably wasn't able to empathize with them. I had lost consciousness then woke up feeling fine, but everyone was fussing about me as if I had died.
It was during one of the family dinners where, for the umpteenth time, I was asked what happened and how I was feeling, that I decided to relate my dreams. There was a stunned silence and tension so thick in the air it was hard to miss.
The place I described was something that my grandfather found familiar because he had heard his grandfather talking about it, which was the family’s home in China. There was also a sword fitting the description which I had never before seen in my life. Apparently it had been passed down through the generations as a heirloom of sorts. In fact, that was the only thing my great, great grandfather did not sell. It had been kept away before I was even born… because the item didn’t quite suit the modern look of the house. I asked my dad if I could see the sword and he said that he remembered he had packed it in a box before we moved to our current place and it’s still in a box somewhere in the store.
When I related that a spirit of a soldier had made a vow to protect us ten fold, each of us started sharing stories from our past of moments that we narrowly escaped death or injuries. Again, to be fair, all that really doesn’t prove anything. My family has also been relatively healthy with none of us having any major illnesses. Deaths in the family have all been of old age and peaceful.
So you can see why it’s hard for me to share this story elsewhere, but I think with SC, you guys will know what to do with this.
Confession by CF
Hi Eugene and Jon,
I have been a great fan of supernatural stories since I was a child and of course when I happened to watch Supernatural Confessions I became a fan of yours. Since young my grandmama shared many supernatural stories with me which triggered my curiosity with the supernatural. I love to watch ghost movies too.
I realize I can sort of sense if anything is unusual and it triggers extreme headaches for me. Up till now I have had a fair share of experiences with incidents in the UK, orbs on ghost tours in The Rocks, Sydney (where I coincidentally met David Acorah), orbs in Tampines, in my working offices and many strange dreams which were related to my family.
Let’s begin with my first story in Tampines.
This happened when I was living in my unit in a HDB maisonette in Tampines. We had a 14 year old dog, Dusty who was old and weak and had difficulty eating. My partner JR had to carry her down the stairs to go for her daily walks. As usual it was the evening of a Sunday and we were just barely outside our gate when we met our neighbour, Ed. We started chatting and he was telling me there was a wake two blocks away from us which we could not see.
Suddenly Dusty made a screeching yelp and continued this weird screeching/yelping and ran around the lamp post (bear in mind Dusty had no strength to even walk down the short flight of stairs, let alone run around). We have never heard such a yelp in Dusty’s entire life with us! We were dumbfounded. My neighbor ED panicked and told me that the next day was the first day of Seventh month and he rushed home to his house.
As Dusty did not stop yelping and running around, I told JR to take Dusty home immediately. We gave Dusty her dinner. Lo and behold she gulped all her food down. Very unusual of her to be so hungry.
As I do believe in supernatural things I was just wondering if Dusty had been possessed? JR had heard many of my encounters but he had always been skeptical of them.
With passing days, I noticed Dusty was not as close to me. She could now walk around and had a good appetite. Sometimes while doing my work, I’d turned around to look at her and notice her looking at me in an unusual manner. It definitely was not my Dusty. Has something gone into Dusty? I shared my presumptions with JR.
A week passed by. I noticed that Dusty’s cataract was sort of clearing up. Hmm, was I just imagining it? I think JR agreed with me. I had shared with JR that if there was something possessing Dusty then by the end of the month which would be the seventh month, Dusty would revert to her weak self.
Believe it or not for those few weeks Dusty could eat and walk and by the end of the 7th month she did revert to her weak self and had liver and kidney malfunctions. Dusty succumbed to her illness and died peacefully. Is this supernatural or just coincidence? You decide. FYI I had experienced unexplained headaches living in this unit for 5 yrs and when JR took snapshots of me we do see orbs near me☹
Thank you for reading this. Regards CF
Confession by an Ex Flight Attendant
I was flying with one of the airlines that required me to be based in Dubai. We were allocated accommodations where 3 crew members shared a unit. The more senior crew member would take the room with the attached toilet.
So when my senior roommate asked if I would like to swap rooms with her, I immediately jumped at the opportunity. My senior room mate was a Singaporean so we were naturally closer. I didn’t think much about the swap and thought she was just looking out for me because at that time I was seeing someone and the attached bathroom was very much welcomed.
A few days later, however, she asked for her room back. It raised red flags when she absent-mindedly commented, “It makes no difference which room I go”.
I started digging for more information and learned that her boyfriend had recently passed away from a boating accident. Ever since, she would wake up to find wet footprints around her room. One side of her bed would be wet in the morning. The worst of it was when she brought her dates back for the night. At least on three occasions, they had run away mid coitus, saying that her room was haunted. One got strangled in his sleep. He did come back a second night but that was the last I saw of him.
She wanted to change rooms to see if there was any difference but it didn't matter as he would even follow her overseas.
I didn’t care if she was senior, I f**ked her up ‘gao gao’ (meaning excessively in hokkien dialect). She thought her room was haunted and wanted to change with me? What the f**k lah? Sabo (meaning sabotage) !!!
I don’t think her situation ever improved. We didn’t talk about the incident again but I noticed she stopped bringing guys back. About half a year later, she quit the airlines. Rumour was that she was very ill and couldn’t fly anymore.
Confession by R.J.
Eugene, it’s nice to hear that you have picked up meditation. I do have to warn you that meditation is like a double edged sword. It can be bad for you if you don’t know how to meditate, or meditate wrongly. I would strongly recommend you get guidance for this.
I had an unfortunate incident about five, six years ago.
You know what’s a yantra? Yantras are used for the worship of deities in temples or at home, and also as an aid in meditation.
The one I bought online was corrupted. It was a cloth poster, digitally hand painted, but very artistically done and looked great on the wall. That was my first mistake.
Yantra, when energized and used correctly, can help the practitioner connect with the right deities, but when used wrongly…. Which was what happened to me.
I started experiencing funny things in my house. There would be portions of the house where it would be very cold. I’m talking about air-con level cold in hot, Singaporean weather. All I had on was a ceiling fan.
Electronic items started breaking down. My television had to be changed twice in a year and repaired once. The second time I wanted to it sent for repair, I was told to get a new one as the circuit boards were fried.
I found out I wasn’t the only one experiencing this. When I bumped into the neighbor in the lift, we got to chatting and he shared very openly that he hadn’t been sleeping well. He believed his house was haunted.
He said he could see multiple female entities in his house, outside his window. He would sleep at night, and find himself on the floor in the next morning. There were no bruises or anything to indicate a fall, and it was not likely that he would have rolled off the bed but not wake up. His TV and lights would turn on and off. Then his house cat ran away, never to come back.
I told him perhaps it could be due to the ongoing MRT construction works causing vibrations resulting in these experiences.
When I went back home that day, I made the second mistake - I started making offerings to the Yantra. I didn’t even know why I did that. At that time, It just seemed like a good idea.
The haunting got worse. This was also during the time of the Hungry Ghost Festival so I assumed it was just a phase, and since my neighbor was also experiencing weird incidences, I didn’t think it was all that bad.
By October that same year, the encounters were no longer subtle. I was home earlier from work one day as I wasn’t feeling too well and saw my “wife” in the kitchen. I chatted with her as usual. It didn’t occur to me why she would be home at this time. It seemed that during that whole episode I was in a state of trance.
I went to shower and came out seeing my wife waiting for me on the bed in an inviting manner. Of course we got intimate. Midway during intercourse I saw that the person on top of me wasn’t my wife. It had gray skin, long red tongue, multiple hands and it was huge!
Then my senses came back to me, as if a fog had been lifted. I found that I was alone on the bed. I called my wife immediately and found that she was still at work.
I went to my study room and meditated to calm myself. Each time I meditated, I felt at ease. Which was the whole point of meditation, wasn’t it? So if you were to ask me if I suspected anything wrong with that Yantra at that time, I would say no.
After that incident, I can no longer tell what was real or an illusion anymore. I would be going through some days that seemed very real, only to “wake up” in a different place or in the midst of doing something inappropriate.
My wife suggested calling a medium to our house. I had kept her up to date with my experiences. On her part, she wasn’t affected at all. She had encountered some strange things, but everything could be rationalized, which she did.
When the Guru walked into the house, the first thing he said was. “Wah, how do you all live in this place?” He said that with the level of negative energy present in my house, it was amazing we could still stay on. He conducted a ritual and traced the problem to my poster.
He asked me why I bought it. I said it was to help me with my meditation. He told me to take a closer look at the poster and then it dawned on me that the image on the poster looked nothing like the initial yantra I had bought. Over time the image had transformed into something unrecognizable. Again, it was like a fog was lifted. Only when he had pointed it out then it became obvious.
He wrapped the poster with a red thread and burnt it. He placed the ashes inside an earthen jar and brought it away with him.
He said he couldn’t capture all the entities, some had run to the neighboring units, but he could seal our home to prevent them from returning. Also, without the portal, our house should not have further problems.
Confession by Ron
Due to the nature of my job, I would like to be anonymous. I can only tell you that my work involves coastal patrol.
People say in the 7th month, we should avoid swimming, and I think there’s some truth to that. For us, we noticed that especially during this period, there’s an exceptionally high number of water related accidents that take place, and the bodies aren’t always recovered.
Some of the common reports we receive are people falling overboard. So if you intend to be on a boat this month, I would advise you to wear a life jacket. Sometimes you may find that you are being careful and there’s no reason to fall over, but we have seen reports where people felt they were being pushed. At least with a life jacket on, you got one more layer of protection.
Some of my colleagues mentioned that around the southern islands, it’s where there’s the highest number of sightings.
Confession Journal is a collection of stories and reviews submitted by the public.