Yea back again after a l0ng break=)
Many things had happened...
1) I got a new 17-inch LCD monitor computer(finally!)
2)There is this hannah fight going on in class.
3)I'm not in good terms with my mum(quite a lot of fights lately)
4) 6a2 blog got hacked again who's the culprit OWN UP!!!
5) Shawn got into revival round YAY!
6)NAPFA test is coming(today- 5 items)
7)i'm going to work on my new blogskin with adobe photoshop
ANd Finally... I will try to SMILE =) more often~
Oh yea!
here's a horrifying ghost story:
This story was an enigma when it happened. I was a little boy of four. At that age, everything seemed nothing more than just what met the eye. I didn’t think much about this story and even stopped analysing it because I only knew half of it. Then one day, I had the opportunity to understand and put the enigma to sleep.
You see, my family and I used to live in a kampong (a Malay village) somewhere in Singapore. This was way back in the year 1964. Our house was made with wood and the doors were creaky.
Every night, for a month or so before my mother died mysteriously, a pretty woman would visit my parents. This was at bedtime, I remember, because I'd be lying in my bed when I'd hear the front door creak open. The woman would walk by me, smile and go into my parent’s room. As soon as she'd be in there, my parents would start to argue and fight. I remember dreading the fights but unfortunately, they became very regular and I got used to it.
The strange thing was, I wouldn't hear the woman’s voice at all during the entire squabble.
After some time, the woman would come out of the room and just as she does, the squabble would immediately end. She would then sit by my bed. She’d just look at me with a beautiful smile on her face.
I’d feel very calm and happy whenever she was there.One day, mysteriously, my mother died. I remember not being able to sleep and cried often. What I realized much later, sadly, was that it wasn’t for my mother alone that I was crying, but for the mysterious woman as well, who stopped coming by altogether.
As we know, time is the best healer. I got used to not having both women in my life. Then, my father died – also mysteriously.
One day he was well and the next, he never got out of bed. It was the saddest day of my life. I was distraught and felt miserable. We went to live with our aunt: my 8 years brother, my 6 years old sister and myself.Years passed and all was progressing fine. Then one night, I had a dreadful dream. My father was on his bicycle and riding away.
My brother, sister and I were crying and running after him. We were calling on him to stop but he just rode away, leaving us all alone and confused. I woke up feeling very sad and angry. That morning, after the dream, a distant uncle from Penang visited us. He brought a suitcase that belonged to my late father. In the suitcase, I found something that stunned me – it was a picture of my father with a very pretty young woman. That young woman was the same woman who visited me by my bedside in my younger years.
I could never forget her face. My uncle told me that she was my father’s first love and that I was her son. My father had made her pregnant then offered to marry her but her family disapproved of him and almost killed him. He was beaten up to the point of near death. He was in the hospital for three months.As for her, she wasn’t allowed to be seen in public until the baby, me, was born.
One day, she appeared at my father’s house when he wasn’t home and left me there with my grandmother. Some days later, my father received a bad news – she had drowned in the river. It seemed obvious that it was suicide.After knowing this truth, I became very upset and went into depression. I stopped school soon after and worked as a shop assistant. I was only 12. Gladly, like all pains, time heals but the scars remain.
