ConfessionsA dedicated space for anyone who’s ever had a supernatural experience.
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Confession by Hoon I was sickly as a child; always going in and out of hospital. My constitution was very jialat. If you are to ask what I remember the most of my primary school days, I will tell you it’s the hospital. I think I was absent for half of the school term.
My father’s friend was a temple helper and he said that if I took on Guang Kong as my guardian deity, it would help me through life. I believe a ritual was done for me but I can’t recall the details exactly. Anyway, it's not important. For the remainder of this story, I will refer to him as GK. I feel that even calling out his name will invoke power. What's important is that I got healthier after that. When I grew older, I was interested in all things GK. Of all the deities in the Chinese temple, I would say GK has the most pop culture merchandise. He’s in books, figurines, computer games, collectable cards, etc. Anytime I come across something interesting, I would add that to my collection. Eventually, in the army, during reservist, I was inspired to get a full back tattoo of GK after seeing one of my campmates with it. I got a recommendation for a tattoo artist in Geylang who does this sort of tatts. I had to go back a few rounds to finally finish the entire piece. I remember my tattoo artist asked if I wanted to complete the whole image. At that time I was still thinking - “what a dumb question, of course complete lah.” And that’s when my life did a 180 turnabout. My health deteriorated almost immediately, my relationship with people around me soured, and my girlfriend of five years left me. This streak of bad luck went on for another year until a chance encounter with my father’s friend, the one who helped me as a child. We got to chatting and he asked me how life has been. I told him everything was ok; like what else did he want me to say? Should I pour out all of my troubles? When we were about to part ways, he called out to me: “Eh, what have you done?!” I blur siah. “What do you mean?” He said GK not happy with me. Very bad. I’d done something very bad. I stun siah. I couldn’t think of anything wrong that I did. To be fair, I can think of many things wrong I did, but I don’t know what would anger GK. Somewhere in the discussion, I revealed that I have a tattoo of GK on my back and wondered if that was the problem. I didn’t think anything was wrong with it because I saw others with it as well, and my intention of the tattoo was to give thanks to GK for protecting me. He saw my tattoo already he lecture me jia lat siah. He said GK tattoo not for everyone. It’s too hiong for me already. Siao liao lah. What to do now? Laser off whole back meh? Thankfully the solution was not so serious. After I lasered off GK’s eyes from the tattoo, my life slowly went back to normal. My friends and I wanted a quick getaway so we decided to drive up to Genting for a 3D2N stay. I booked the hotel on Agoda and found two rooms for 300RM, for three days and two nights. It was a steal! They had 7.3 stars so okay lah, it can’t be that bad. The two girls - me and another friend, let’s call her Fergie - would share one room, and the guy - Let’s call him William - would take the other room.
It was relatively easy to navigate our way to the hotel. William was a seasoned driver, Fergie and I took turns to ride shotgun as navigators. We left Singapore at 5am to beat the causeway jam, had breakfast along one of the pit stops and by the time we arrived at the hotel, it was about lunch time. We made good time, and so far, everything was going as planned. There was a bit of confusion during the check in as we realized that I had booked the service apartment and NOT the hotel. So we had to move our luggages back in the car and drive to the other building. The apartment block was facing a famous building with a terrible reputation for haunting; even though the tenants vehemently deny it. I soon found the reason why the rooms I booked were so cheap. It was because it was a single apartment homestay unit with two bedrooms! The place looked decent and as long as the toilets were clean and functioning, I was okay with it. After putting down our stuff, we went out for the day and by the time we came back, it was almost midnight. Even though we followed the GPS, this time we could not find the way back to the hotel. We drove around in circles, making U Turns passing by the Shell Gas station multiple times, but for some reason we just couldn't find the road to take that led up to our hotel. We pulled over by the side of the road and just waited. All of us were tired and a bit annoyed. Fergie thought I was a lousy navigator, which pissed me off, and when she couldn’t find the place, I had a good time gloating at her, which pissed her off. William was taking our instructions and driving in circles, so he was pissed off too. Tension was high. Somewhere at this point, a strong, foul stench entered our car. My first thought was that someone farted, and I said it out loud - “Eh Fergie, you farted ah”. William straight away shot me a look and said, “eh don’t say already.” Fergie didn’t respond. She looked straight ahead and didn’t flinch. We waited a while longer and the smell intensified. I asked William to check the ventilation function and to close it if it’s open. We probably stopped by a place with a pile of manure nearby, I thought. William snapped this time, “eh can shut up already or not?” Like I said, tension was high. So I just kept quiet and looked out the window. From out of nowhere a black dog leaped up to my window right in my face and started growling! I screamed! William and Fergie turned to look at me. “What the fuck?” “Dogs!” I yelled back. “Where?” I turned to look at the window again but nothing there. “I was sure as hell that a dog pounced up just now.” “Ok everyone just be calm,” Fergie said and played a Buddhist mantra from her phone. After a while, we saw a beam of light behind us, a car drove past us and turned into a lane that we hadn’t noticed before. We were all surprised. Driving by so many rounds none of us saw that road but now that the car has gone up, the road became obvious again. William followed the car and drove up the hill in silence. We eventually found the hotel, parked the car, and went up to the room. Amongst the three of us, Fergie is a sensitive. Meaning she can sense entities around. Once we were safely back in our rooms, she told me that there were lots of ghosts crowding around the car where we had stopped, and that was why there was the smell. When you smell such things at night, you never ever acknowledge them. Cos once the ghosts know you can sense them, they will follow you. William turned out to be more chicken shit than me and asked if we could all sleep in the same room. Fergie wasn’t comfortable with squeezing so she offered to let William share the room with me while she slept alone in William’s room. We didn’t sleep right away. William and I, still feeling the adrenaline rush from the strange incident stayed up to chat and laugh about what we had encountered. At 3am exactly - I know that as William had an old Casio watch that beeped every hour - there were scratching sounds on our room door and the sound of a dog whimpering. Mind you, it was just right outside our bedroom door. It was not outside the window, it was not anywhere. It was right at our door. Fuck lah, how was this possible. Oh my god, I was really about to die on the spot, I didnt know what to do. I was about to get up to open the door to check but William held me back. “Don’t bloody open the door! It’s not a dog!” We stayed in our beds. Letting the scratching and whimpering go on. Then the whimpering turned to loud angry barks and the scratches got more furious. From above us, it sounded like furniture was being dragged across the floor in the unit above us. We recorded a video of us, the door, and the noise, and posted it on the group chat that Fergie, William and I shared. Fergie didn’t see the message so we guessed that she must be sleeping through the noise. William and I looked at each other and said let’s go to sleep. We left the room light on and did our best to ignore the noise. Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep. William didn’t sleep a wink. Fergie woke shortly before me. We went to check the door, but the door had zero scratches. Fergie didn’t hear any noise either, and the strange thing was that even the video we had taken and posted on the group chat had no barking sound or scratching noises. Just the humming of the aircon and our voices saying, “can you hear that? Can you hear that?” Fergie’s experience was a little different. There was a woman crying-laughing in her attached toilet. She scolded the spirit, put on her earphones and went to sleep. Midway through the night, the room got really cold. Fergie reached for the aircon remote control by her bedside but couldn’t find it. She got up to search for it and eventually found it in the toilet wash basin. I tried to contact the owner of the apartment but since I didn't have the direct number, I could only leave an email and wait for a reply. Now that it was in the morning again, we were quite brave, and the previous night’s event didn’t seem as scary. So, same thing, we went out to shop, play, and makan, and all the horror was forgotten… until we drove back. Again, it was close to midnight, but this time all three of us were looking out for the “hidden” road that we had missed yesterday. This time thankfully, we did find it. But something else happened. Our apartment block had a convenience store downstairs; KK Mart. Along the drive up, there’s a signage that says - KK Mart in 500m. We drove past it 4 times. Then I had to say out loud, “eh are we driving in circles again?” Both Fergie and William lamented at the same time: “Wah Lao eh! Diam lah!” Then William continued, “I know I can be stupid, but this is very obvious. I know there’s something wrong already.” “Nothing we can do now, just keep going, don’t stop. They want us to stop,” Fergie said. “Huh? Who want us to stop?” “Diam lah! Aiyoh, stop asking already,” Fergie yelled at me. This time Fergie didn’t just play the Buddhist mantra, she called her husband who was residing in Singapore and gave him instructions and some steps he should take with the altar at home. What Fergie was doing was invoking her god’s help directly. I heard something about a whip, lighting of incense, and burning of specific talismans. The road seemed never ending, just straight and endless. But this time it was different. One of the hotels in the vicinity loomed into view - greasy, sinister, with an eerie glow. We continued driving round the bend towards our building. We parked the car and headed up to the sixth floor. Our unit is 606. When the lift door opened, I had shocked of my life. The lights in the corridor had gone out. It was almost pitch black, except for some light coming out from under the doors of the units that were occupied. Fergie took charge and walked ahead using her handphone torch. Fergie’s demeanour was aggressive. William was trying his best to maintain composure. I was biting onto my jacket so I don’t end up saying stupid things. When we got to the room, the door couldn’t open, and I don’t mean that the security card couldn’t work. I sell digital locks for a living so I know very well how they work. When we tapped our card, the green light came on, and the sound of the bolt drawing back, but the door couldn’t be opened. Fergie tried, William tried, I tried. The handle could turn, but the door could not open. Fergie let loose a string of expletives. She called her husband again and gave him some more instructions. This time to call upon a different deity. After she put down the phone, she started yelling at the door in Hokkien. “Don’t make me angry. I don’t want to banish you, so don’t force me.” The door opened by itself by half a foot. She pushed the door open and proceeded to pack her bags. “Quick, we don’t have much time. She would be back soon.” Seeing her in such a frenzied state, we didn’t question anything. We just followed. A metal fixture fell close to Fergie, narrowly missing her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Fergie muttered. “She’s coming back.” We all dashed out of the place, down the dark corridor, no handphone lights this time cos our hands were all full, and straight to the elevator. Behind us, we could hear sounds of cupboard doors banging coming from the unit. When the lift arrived, we all bundled in and got the hell out of the apartment. We drove over to another hotel and stayed the night. The next hotel also one kind lah. But I don’t know if the hotel room was haunted or something followed us, but it was nothing as sinister and obvious as the first apartment. Just noises and shadows. After what we had just gone through, these new spirits got a scolding from all of us. After that, whole night was peaceful. Eugene, I need to get this story off my chest. It’s an experience I had during the June period almost a decade ago, but each year around this time I will recall this incident and the memories haunt me. The trauma is so real that since then, I’ve not traveled or stayed in a hotel.
The problem is my husband doesn’t believe it - or rather he chooses not to believe it - but it’s also easier for him to turn a blind eye because he was the one possessed and I was the one who saw and remembered everything! It’s damn unfair lah! We stayed in a heritage hotel in Georgetown. It’s a beautiful colonial style hotel with paintings and furniture that added to the vintage vibe of the place. Even though it’s old, it didn’t give off the haunted hotel vibe. The carpet was a bit musky and the wallpaper is dated, but that’s to be expected. We checked into the hotel by midday, went to makan, but by around evening time my husband said he wasn’t feeling well. Counting it off as probably exhaustion from the traveling and the heat, we went back early to rest. He took Panadol, and slept. It was only our first day in Penang, and if he got sick now, the holiday would be pretty much over. He only had a short nap before waking up about two to three hours later. It was after sundown, around 8pm. He suddenly woke up and for a while he was a bit disoriented. Kept asking, “where am I? Why am I here?” I felt his body and it was hot. His fever had just shot up. I didn’t know what the temperature was but you could tell it was very high by feeling around the forehead and neck area. He was also perspiring. I went to the toilet to wet a towel when I got back, he was sitting up facing the window and humming a tune. I don’t know what song that was but from the melody it sounded chinese. I even joked with my husband. I said, “You so sick until the brain sot already ah?” He didn’t reply. I toweled his neck and back then and then let him lie back down. He looked at me and asked who I am. I even joked back that this one special service better pay me for this extra. He didn’t reply. Just closed his eyes and dosed off. Throughout the night he was murmuring in his sleep. I had a shallow sleep all the way till sometime in the middle of the night, then exhaustion overtook my conscious mind and I also fell asleep. When I got up in the morning my husband was already awake and in the toilet showering. When he got out he was in high spirits. There was no fever. No lethargy. No recollection of anything from the previous night. He said he remembered feeling tired and sleepy. He came back to the hotel and slept till morning. I called him an ungrateful twat but was just glad that he was ok now and the holiday wasn't ruined. Second day we went out for more sightseeing. No fever at all but complaints of mild headaches and aching back, but by nightfall the fever started again. This time he said the migraine was unbearable. We skipped dinner and headed back to the hotel. The behavioral change on the second night was drastic. He came in and crashed straight away. Didn’t even take off shoes, just fell face first to bed. I took off his shoes and flipped him over in case he suffocated and died. That’s when he totally freaked me out. When I flipped him over, he started to giggle. Giggle, ok!? Giggle! And it’s in a girly voice! And there were voices coming out of him even though his lips weren't moving. I managed to catch the words - mari kita mayain. Let’s play together, in the malay language. Those were the only words I understood, the rest sounded like conversations between two people. And then more giggles. I kept thinking it was just my husband playing a prank on me. “It’s not funny,” I said. “You keep this up, you’re on your own. I’m leaving the room. My luggage, which was open, slammed shut. That shocked the piss out of me. I swear, I think at that time I really did piss myself a little. Then I looked back at my husband, but by this time his eyes were opened and he was sitting up, but one look at him and you could tell the “lights were on but there was no one home”. It’s like looking at you but through you. I was done here. I tried to run out of the room but the door wouldn’t open. My husband was bouncing his way forward from the seated position towards the edge of the bed. Till today, I close my eyes, and I can still recall him bouncing forward. Retelling you this story is giving me goosebumps! The only place left to go was the toilet. I ran in and shut the door behind me. I’m not a religious person so I don’t have any mantra to recite or gods to call but I did attend Sunday school when I was in kindergarten so I called out to Jesus for help. I avoided looking into the mirror because I can’t bear to see the reflection of my eyes looking back at me. The memory of looking at my husband’s glazed eyes is still fresh in my head. Knock, knock, knock, on the toilet door. “Go away,” I screamed. “Fuck off!” Then the handle started rattling as it tried to force its way in. “Sorry sorry! Just leave me alone!” Knock, knock, knock, again. I pressed my back against the door, and held on to the lock to prevent it from turning open. I just kept praying. Then the light went off. What else can I do? No phone, nothing. Just stood there in total darkness braced against the door. Outside I can hear the giggling, the banging. Things being moved about. Talking: I don’t understand the language but from my guesstimate, it sounded like three maybe four people were talking. I stayed in the toilet, sat there in total darkness, until it was totally quiet, and then waited even longer until I was very, very, very sure there was no more sound for another hour or two. I waited until I saw a bit of light from under the door. Opening the damned door was the scariest part. I braced myself to slam the door shut with my body weight if anything popped within line of sight. I waited a bit, opened the gap slightly, waited a bit more, then opened the gap slightly more. Until I felt really safe, I stepped out of the toilet. It was already morning and the light was coming through from the parted curtains. My husband was in bed, snoring. I was very confused at this point. Everything looked normal. I half expected the place to have been turned upside down with all the noise from the previous night. I left my husband there to sleep and ran downstairs to the front counter. There I just broke down and cried. The manager came, and other female staff were all present. I was shivering and crying uncontrollably. When I could speak, I told them what had happened. According to the night shift staff who was still on duty, there was no complaint of noise from the adjoining room or any guest seen on CCTV that had entered my room. Two of the staff offered to accompany me back to my room. I stayed outside with one of the staff, the other went in to wake my husband. When he woke up, it was as if nothing had happened. He was surprised to see the hotel staff in the room and me standing outside, probably looking like a mad woman. He looked genuinely confused. After the staff had ascertained that everything was safe and sound, they left. My husband had zero recollection. Once again, in the morning, no fever, and he was feeling fine. We had one more night stay, but there was no way I was going to stand another night. I broke down again, packed my bags quickly and insisted that we book a flight home. I didn’t feel safe. Poor husband, confused as hell, just went along with what I wanted. We flew back to Singapore and everything was normal. The husband felt fine, the fever was gone, and so were the aches and headaches. This story came from a couple whom I'm acquitted with. Let’s call them Tommy and Gina. They were in their mid 30s and knew each other as friends before getting together. Tommy had fancied Gina on the sidelines but never plucked up the courage to make the move. Them getting together was also a little controversial. She was engaged to another common friend, Paul; Tommy even attended the engagement party.
Shortly after the party, Gina started to see more and more of Tommy, and one day she declared to us that the wedding was off and she wants to be with Tommy officially. This took us all by surprise, but considering that it’s not our problem and matters of the heart can be really fickle, we just left it as that. Grown ups making their own grown up decisions. Paul unfortunately was distraught and inconsolable. Tommy and Gina too weren’t very thoughtful about their relationship and were living life loud and proud, posting their adventures all over social media. It all happened way too fast. This was not the Gina I knew. Though we weren’t really close, I’ve known her throughout my youth within the extended circle of friends. Paul disappeared entirely from the scene. Didn’t reply to messages, didn’t pick up calls. Three months later, Tommy and Gina's relationship started to show cracks. They would fight constantly. Of all the people, Gina chose to call me. One night, she wanted me to meet up at the stone table under my void deck. She was lost and confused and needed someone to speak to. I happened to pop up in her head so she reached out. I listened to her telling me about her relationship with Tommy and how she was thinking about going back to Paul. Being a concerned yet curious friend, I started to ask more questions. That was when I started seeing signs that there could be magic at play. Tommy had recently started visiting Thailand and did so often. From a shy boy, he suddenly became more confident and assertive. Gina, on her part said she loved Tommy “like mad” but it was strange because her feelings swung between very intense and cold detachment. When she was with him, she was head over heels in love. When they were apart, she sometimes wondered why she was even with him in the first place. Recently, she found that he no longer spoke to her the same way he did before during the courtship, and he smelled funny. Love making was extremely explosive in the first three months, but now she says he reeked of rot and she could not bear to be intimate with him due to the “stench”. His touch repulsed her. Lately, she had been having thoughts - even intimate dreams - of Paul. I passed her an item that was gifted to me by an Ajahn. “I want this back,” I told her, “but I want you to hold on to this for now, and whatever you do, avoid seeing either Paul or Tommy the next 5 days. We’ll talk again next week.” Three days later, I received a text from Paul, out of the blue after three months of silence. The message read: stay out of it. Notes:
The hotel I stayed at is no longer in operation. I think it was shut down during the covid pandemic period. Also good lah, because I think by the time the lockdown was lifted and people start to stay again, they have to fight for space with the resident ghosts.
I went there for work and stayed in the hotel alone. My needs are simple - I just need a place to sleep. Morning, I go out makan, I go for meetings, I come back at night, shower and sleep. This makes the chambermaid's life very easy. Nothing much to clean. Even the instant coffee packets, tooth brush, soap and shampoo, all I don’t touch. When I arrived at the hotel, I had a bit of a booking issue. The hotel could not find my records to check me in. As the booking was done through the client’s company and it was the weekend so the admin department could not be contacted for verification, the contact person suggested that I got another room for the time being and he would file for reimbursement. There were a couple of big festivals happening at the same time in Malacca so the hotel was fully booked. Same for other hotels around the area. So I “puay” with the hotel staff - begged them - to help get me a room. I didn't mind taking a downgrade. After a bit of chatter and “let me ask so-and-so”, the manager finally got back to me and said they have a suite for me. Wow, I thought that was a massive upgrade. He told me to come back in an hours’ time as they would need some time to prep the room. I went to makan first and came back in an hour. The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the room was that it smelled musky. The type of old room that hadn’t been cleaned or used in a while. But it was huge, with a walk-in wardrobe. There was an area for sleeping and another for watching television. But I didn’t care for that because I wouldn't be in the room for long anyway. I left everything as they were, changed into a new set of clothes and left the room. When I came back that night, my room was a total mess. It was as if an 80s rock band had a party. Contents from my luggage were strewn all around the place. The drinking glass by the kettle had shattered. I went down to the front desk and demanded an explanation, politely. The manager I met in the afternoon was still on duty. “Sir, I’m so sorry for your experience,” he said calmly and with a tinge of regret. “We really don’t have any other rooms available. You said you didn’t mind a…. Downgrade”. I stood there to process the exchange. He looked at me. I looked at him. And then it dawned on me what he meant. “A downgrade you say?” “Yes sir, a downgrade,” he said, nodding slowly with a polite smile. I went back up to my room. I spoke out loud to whoever was in the room: “I’m sorry for taking your place. I will be here two more nights and then I’m gone. Thank you for sharing your room.” The toilet door slammed shut in response. “Fuck lah, I don’t have a choice you think I want to stay here? Fuck. I also got played out ok? You and I both. Like it or not, suck it up. You have me for the next two days.” I opened the toilet door and went to shower. In my mind, I was too pissed to care. I think short of the hantu appearing in front of me, I can deal with any petty poltergeist activities. I went to bed and knocked out. That night I had a very brief dream. In my dream, or shallow sleep, I can’t be sure, I saw a woman in a traditional red wedding gown standing by the foot of the bed. Her face was covered by the red silk handkerchief. I felt anger and sadness from her. When I woke the next morning, I left the mess just as it was. I didn’t bother cleaning up; I didn’t want to give the ghost the satisfaction of throwing a tantrum again. For the next two days, there were no further activities. The dream of the woman in the red traditional wedding dress still persisted briefly before I fell into deep sleep. But otherwise nothing new. Before I left, I asked for the hotel manager again and thankfully he was on duty. I thanked him for the room nonetheless and assured him my stay was pleasant and I wasn’t going to leave a negative review. I asked him if he knew the background of the woman in a red wedding gown but he looked at me puzzled as if he didn’t understand what I was asking. I decided not to pursue it and left the place. This story was shared to me by a very close friend. Due to the nature of his job and to protect his family’s identity, I will omit or tweak some details about him.
I met up with this friend A over lunch and as usual, we asked each other questions like “how’s life”. Most times you would expect the casual responses like “life’s ok”, or the cursory complaints about cost of living. This time he remarked, “My father got admitted to IMH last week.” Shit. Where would the conversation go from here? From the look he was giving me, I knew there was more to what he was letting on. We let the pregnant pause linger between us. I'm terrible at small talk and consolations. But I'm worse at dealing with long silences. “What’s wrong with him?” I asked. “He thinks someone casted a black magic curse on him.” Ah, ok. I can see where this is going already. “What makes you say that? I feel it's my responsibility to set down this disclaimer that most genuine cases of mental illness can look like supernatural afflictions. We should consult medical doctors before seeking alternative healing.” “Do you really believe in that?” I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose. I can’t possibly contradict my own disclaimer now can I? I’m a responsible man, so I persevered. “I’m sure many things may look like it can be pegged to the supernatural, but rational people will tell you otherwise.” A interrupted me. “My dad can see things. He said at night he can see paper effigy dolls standing by his bed. One in pink and one in blue. They follow and appear in front of him everywhere he goes. Initially, we thought maybe the boredom of retirement is causing his mind to run wild, but then we started finding giant centipedes in the toilet bowl and giant toads under his bed. Where did they come from? Although he sees them at all times of the day, at night it gets worse, and it's been getting even worse. He blames my mom, he blames everyone.” “When did this happen?” I asked. “About 9 months ago. Around July - August, it started right before the hungry ghost festival...” “What happened during that time?” “Nothing out of the ordinary. Dad retired, and started staying home a lot more.” "Does your dad have any enemies? He doesn’t strike me as the superstitious type - and I've spoken with your dad on numerous occasions over the years - why the sudden claim that it’s black magic?” His dad was under observation and the social workers assigned to him wanted more time to assess his behavior before making recommendations. This meant he was discouraged from having visitors which I found to be a small blessing. It would be hard to reject a close friend’s invitation to see his father, and at the same time, I really didn’t want to get too deeply involved in a black magic situation. But… I pointed my friend to a good starting point. “I’m just pulling this out of the air,” I said, “but you might want to poke around your father’s old business. I’m guessing you may find a thread there to tug at.” A week later, A came back with some news. “Dad didn’t retire. He left. He left the entire company to his partner. He just left.” Notes:
Confession by Saiful Bahri My story happened in 2009, two nights before the fasting month. At Tekong of course, where else?
I was fresh out of SISPEC. Assigned to do the TFT (Tekong Ferry Terminal) guard duty, a 'rite of passage' for all new specs posted there. Like all guard rooms, there were monitors for the CCTVs installed around the complex. Amongst them was this one CCTV facing the old jetty. It wasn't even late at night when my senior spotted something. Then he called me to confirm what he saw. I came over to take a look. We saw a very, very 'pocong' like being at the jetty just hopping about. I say 'like-being' because it was a blurry figure. Then my senior did the unthinkable. He pulled seniority and asked me to go outside to check the 'thing' out. I said no of course. I didn’t care if he was going to charge me for insubordination. So we decided to ignore it. Two hours into the incident, I wanted to go for a smoke break. I took a glance at the monitors to see if the "thing" was still there or not. It was no longer there at the old jetty, instead, it was now hopping in front of the CCTV monitoring the carpark, which is right beside the smoking area. Needless to say, as smart readers and educated Singaporeans, that smoke break never happened. Linda Ng, 34, mother of two I went to Tokyo, Japan, for a holiday with my girlfriends. This was in my late 20s or early 30s. We had two twin sharing rooms; I was bunking in with my childhood friend, Sharon. We knew each other since the Katong Convent (KC) days and this wasn’t our first trip out together.
Everything went well. Sharon’s a planner, and I was happy to tag along. My other two friends, Zee and Kat, were equally fun people to have around. They weren’t from KC but were also from an all girls' school, so we could all vibe on the same level. My mum was helping me with caregiving for my kid so I had the week away from packing lunch boxes and dealing with the constant “mommy, mommy, mommy”. We checked into a 4-star, 5-star hotel in Minato City. From the looks of it, you would hardly think it’s haunted, but on the day we checked out, we learned that this hotel has a notorious reputation. First thing I do as a habit when I get to any hotel is to pull aside the curtains to let sunlight in. Though I hadn’t had prior paranormal experiences, I am after all Asian and having listened to enough stories on Supernatural Confessions, I know how to… take the necessary actions, when checking into a hotel room. The strange thing about this room is that for some reason, it “felt” dark even with the sunlight coming in. First instinct was that this room didn’t feel right, but since Sharon didn’t mind, I ignored the feeling and went about the day. The first night we went to bed, I swore I saw shadows moving about the room and not even in a surreptitious way. The first shadow stood at the foot of my bed. I was not yet asleep and on my phone. The thick curtains shut the lights from outside completely, but the toilet light was on, so the room wasn’t in total darkness. When I looked up, I could see a silhouette of a man - it was shaped like a man - standing at the foot of my bed. I was startled, of course. I rubbed my eyes and looked up again, but there it was. Clear as anything, it wasn’t my eyes playing tricks on me. I could make out the shape of the shadow and it was this black blot that blocked out my view to my suitcase that was against the wall. The shadow then turned to its left, and I followed its gaze to see another taller shadow on the wall. This one was even clearer. Because of how the toilet light seeped out, there was a pale orange glow on the wall, and the shadow was standing in the middle of it. I fucking screamed. Sharon woke up, lights were turned on. Everything went back to normal. The fear somewhat dissipated and I questioned what I saw. It sounded ludicrous even as I was retelling the story. That night we slept with all the lights on. Exhaustion eventually took over my frayed nerves and I think I must have drifted off to sleep an hour-ish later. That was around 3am. We didn’t tell Zee and Kat, because quite frankly by the time morning came around, the previous night’s experience really felt like a figment of my imagination. The second night we took preemptive measures. We kept all the lights on. Curtains drawn open. Sharon had her sleep mask that she had gotten on the SQ flight. I was the kind that could sleep with lights on so the brightness didn’t bother me much. Seeing the light through my eyelids gave me more of a comfort actually. Sometime in the middle of the night, I heard a couple of loud clicks and got startled awake. The room was in total darkness. I was sleeping on my side facing the wall, with my back towards the window. The curtains were out of sight but I could hear the sound of the curtain rails moving, slowly closing. First of all, waking up in darkness when I was expecting light was jarring enough - but now with the sound? I went into full alert mode. I rolled over and saw a shadow figure closing the curtains, at a slow pace. I scrambled for the light switch but the lights didn’t come on. I grabbed my phone and used the torch function. There were more shadows around the room. Two at the foot of my bed, one by the window, one in the corner, and another was in bed with Sharon. Then they all fucking turned to look at me, at the same fucking time. I knew this time round, I could confirm - and double confirm - I was not conjuring or imagining anything. Like I said, I was alert. This was the second night. After what happened on the first night, my brain was more prepared this time. For some reason, I wasn’t as fearful as the first night. I yelled, “get the fuck out of my room! Get out!” Nothing happened. Then the one on top of Sharon, got off her and crawled its way towards my bed. Ok, now that freaked the hell out of me. I leapt out of bed, ran through one of the shadows at the foot of my bed and out of the room! I had a split second to think about whether I was going to run through the shadow or not, but between the shadow crawling towards me and the one just standing there, I took my chances. I ran to Zee and Kat’s room and pounded on the door. It took them quite a while to open. Honestly I was standing there getting more and more pissed. I think I must have been quite hysterical and was pretty much just yelling, but what I can’t really remember at this point. We went back to my room together. It was on the same floor but a few doors away. Because I had run out without the door keycard, we couldn’t get in. So we rang the doorbell and pounded on the door. Just as I was ready to run down to the concierge to get another card, Sharon opened the door, sleep mask on her forehead. She looked surprised to see me outside the door. “Babe?” We tried to switch but the lights wouldn’t come on. That’s when we realized the keycard had been removed. Sharon had the spare so she went back into the dark room to find it. I yelled at her not to go in, but she didn’t seem affected at all. When we finally got the lights on, we all piled into one room and nothing looked amiss. The curtains were closed, our beds looked like they were slept in. Other than that, there were no signs of shadow people. Not taking our chances, we went to the front desk to demand a change of room and the lady gave us an upgrade, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience. There was no more sleeping for us that night. I had told the girls what I saw and they were spooked. This time, it was hard to say I imagined it. Sharon and I deliberately left all the lights on and curtains open. Something or someone had removed the keycard and closed the curtain. The only explanation was that one of us sleepwalked and did those things without conscious knowledge but neither of us have a history of that. The next morning at breakfast, as we were talking about the night’s incident, a couple at the next table overheard us. They told us this hotel is known to have such incidents and that we were “lucky” to have encountered it. They booked this hotel hoping for an encounter but didn’t get any. I told them the number of my previous room, and that they are welcome to try. They said according to feedback, it didn’t matter which room as the entire hotel is haunted. That was enough for us to G.T.F.O. from the hotel that very afternoon. I’ve traveled and stayed in other hotels since, but thankfully nothing like that ever happened again. P.S. Sharon later on came clean that while she was sleeping on the second night, she had a sexy dream that she was making out with her crush. I don’t know if that was just a coincidence or if she was making out with the shadow person I saw in her bed. I moved to Perth after getting married in 2006. My husband is Aussie but I met him in Singapore at Harry’s Bar. He proposed about a year and a half later, around the Chinese New Year period, and I said yes. When we were dating, he met my parents a few times, but I did not meet his family. This is an important point and you will see why later.
On the third day of Chinese New Year, we flew over to Perth to break the news to his parents. Initially I suggested we should stay at the hotel but my in-laws would have none of it. They cleared out one of their rooms that had been used as a store for us. At that time I didn’t know that the room belonged to my hubby’s grandfather. That night I had a dream of a soldier standing over my bed and smiling at me. He placed a hand on my tummy and I felt warmness radiating from within me. I didn’t think much of it after my first night dreaming of this but by the fourth time I dreamt of it, it became too much of a recurring incident that I couldn't keep mum about it. When I told my hubby about the soldier, I had half expected him to pop-poop my experience. He didn’t seem like the superstitious type so I didn’t know what to expect, but certainly not in the way he had reacted. At first he appeared startled, then he smiled and called for his father. I was like - hey, wait, what was going on? When his dad came into the room, my hubby requested for me to repeat my story and describe what I saw. After I did that, they excitedly called for his mother and made me tell my story for the third time. Then they all hugged me and said it seemed as if his granddad was agreeing to the union, just like them. They went to one of the boxes in the room to retrieve an old black and white photo of a soldier who fitted my description somewhat. But to be fair, the photo and my vision were not quite the same lah. I had seen an older version of the soldier. In the photo, the soldier was younger but the smile was unmistakable. A few months later, I got pregnant. The wedding date had to be bumped up. Thankfully both families were supportive. I was able to hide my baby bump during the wedding but felt regretful that I still looked bloated in all the photos. Anyway, the baby was born a couple of months after the wedding. When the hubby looked at our son, he was more than convinced it was a reincarnation of his grandfather. In fact he was so convinced that he named our son Gary, after his grandfather. Grandfather had participated in some war and died by a bayonet stab wound that had gotten infected. My son has a birthmark on his side, apparently at the same spot where Gary Sr. was stabbed. Our daughter arrived a few years later but she is thankfully not some dead relative. She’s called Marylene. I’d be damned if I had to name her after my hubby’s grandmother, Nancy. Confession by Sheen K. My nenek (grandmother) had passed away by the time I was born so I never had the chance to know her. When I see other kids with their grandparents or when school essay writing involves the subject of grandparents, I always feel sad that a part of my childhood was incomplete.
I only knew what she looked like from old photographs and there weren’t many of them. My parents didn’t tell me much about her. When I asked what she was like, they would tell me she’s a kind woman and that was all, not much other details. When I was coming of age, I started seeing her in my dreams. When I first “saw” her, she was standing in the corner of my room just looking at me. Then she got closer and closer. Sometimes we would spend the entire night playing - in my dreams, of course. I looked forward to this every night. Her visits were very consistent all the way through my secondary school life into my young adulthood. I knew Nenek would always look out for me. When the girls at school bullied me, Nenek said she would punish them. When my first boyfriend cheated on me, he got into a motorbike accident. It got to a point where I was in my mid 20s and found myself with no friends or boyfriends. All my relationships ended badly. I spiraled into a state of severe depression. Nenek comforted me and said that it was ok if I wanted to take my own life, as she would take care of me. I felt that all along, only Nenek cared for me. My parents were worried for me and insisted on taking me to see a medical professional. I remember that I had a big fight with my parents about it. In a fit of rage, I told my parents to “go and die”. Next morning before they took me to the hospital, my dad had a stroke and fell in the shower. I felt immensely guilty and broke down, saying that it was my fault. It was all my fault. I confessed to my mother that it was Nenek who did it and that I was sorry for saying mean things the day before. Mom got really angry, but not at me. She shouted at the room and told her to “take her evil heart to the grave”. The more I told mom about what had been happening the past few years, the more appalled she got. She asked me why had I not toldl her about it, but I had no reply for her. It wasn’t a problem before. I always felt safe and protected. Then mom told me that she hasn't been entirely honest with me. Her mom, my nenek, had been a black magic practitioner and was the kind that would sacrifice her family members if it came to that. My mom wasn’t close to her mother and when she could leave home to start a family, she did. She married my father and they moved to Singapore. From the stories that mom had heard, grandmother had many enemies and not surprisingly, one of them had taken her out. Before grandma died - she had predicted her demise - she had made bold claims that she would come back. Mom believed that grandma was either going to swap places with me or use me to finish her work. For some reason, mom was immune to Nenek’s curses. Maybe because she’s blood. This was the point where I began to realize that my emotions were not really my own. After hearing what mom had said, I started getting angry, but at the same time I was still sad and frightened. The problem did not go away right after that. It still persisted for a few more months but because I was now more aware, I was able to control my thoughts and emotions better. The good news is that I didn’t have to go to the hospital for my depressive issues. Instead, we visited many ustaz, shamans, and the likes, to find a way to wean grandma’s hold over me. Eventually, one of them found a way to sever ties. The effect is only temporary though. Knowing how vengeful nenek is, she is not used to losing and will keep trying. Since she’s already dead, she’s got all the time in the world to keep looking for me. |
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