It all started when my family and myself moved into a four room HDB flat in Clementi one year ago. The flat was old and it had been around for decades. The neighbours knew each other, and the families lived in that building harmoniously. I cursed myself that very day I lifted my suitcase into the creaky lift that stopped only on three particular levels, which means that if you live anywhere between the particular levels, you need to use the staircase. Thankfully, father chose a house just a couple of steps from the lift.
When the lift door opened, I was welcomed by the voices of Cantonese opera coming from the house beside ours. It was the Cantonese old lady who told my father that someone died in our flat years ago and several people who stayed in always left within a year. My father, being a staunch Christian, brushed that off as mere rumour and insisted on moving into the dirt cheap, spacious flat.
My mother was against the idea of living in there too, but once my father lay the cards, we all have to obey them.
The house was barely furnished. The living room was sparce except for some simple furnitures. Father had engaged a moving company to shift our furnitures and beds into this house. So, the living room had a dark brown sofa with a little bit of coffee stain on it, a wooden coffee table, and a small television. That was about it. No fan, no fancy lightings.
I moved my suitcase into my room and looked at the small space I was given for my privacy. There were transparent wrappers all over the room, apparently the irresponsibility of the moving company's workers. My bed was resting against the corner of the room, right beside the windows that were facing the common corridor. I stumbled across the room and flipped the stoppers upwards to open up the windows. I needed some sunlight and fresh air. The air in the room was too stagnent and stuffy.
My closet was placed directly at the foot of my bed.
Bad arrangement. I thought.
I decided to leave it be at the moment to be busy with other things more important. I opened up my suitcase and took out my things. I had nothing much to bring along, unlike my mother who brought three suitcases full of her own things. Women, I can never understand them.
I picked up the top layer of T-shirt and found a silver photoframe of a couple smiling happily back at me. I placed the T-shirt I was holding onto the bed and picked up the photoframe.
Betty. She and I were dating for four years before we broke up a year and a half ago. She was my first love, and so was I to her. We were committed to each other. You know - I met her parents, she met mine, we wore each other rings - that sort of commitment. But things got bad when she attended University. I had to serve my National Service, and within that two years, we had our worries and fights. We seemed to be drifting further and further apart. She was the one who spoke of breaking up, and I gladly obliged at that time, happy to shake a burden off. Now that I am out of National Service and is working in a computer company, I realised that I could never forget her, so I was bent on getting her back.
I placed the photoframe on the study desk and continued to unpack. That was when I heard my mother's soft, muffled voice, coming from the living room.
"Look at this house. Is it fit for living?" She asked, her voice almost inaudible.
Father did not respond. Or was it because he could not overcome his own opinion of this house? I listened intentively for a good one minute before I decided to continue unpacking.
Night came faster when I was busy. Before I knew it, darkness engulfed my bedroom.
I flipped on the switch that lit the entire room with a pathetic light bulb and continued to finish unpacking.
******************************************
Things went well on our first night.
It was the second night that something peculiar happened.
I came home from work, totally bushed. I was irritated at the loud volume coming from the Cantonese old lady's flat, blasting Cantonese opera all day long. What I looked forward towards the end of a tiring day was a calm and quiet evening.
My parents were out that evening. There was a note on the fridge handwritten by my mother teling me to settle my dinner on my own because they will be out till late to visit a friend in church.
I threw the note away and decided to boil some water to cook some instant noodles. The gas hissed as I striked a matchstick and started fire at the stove. I placed the small pot with water half filled in it on top of the stove and left the kitchen.
I did not know what happened after I sat in the living room while waiting for my water to boil. What I knew was, when I woke up from a supposedly short nap, the house was overwhelmed with the awful smell of gas. I ran into the kitchen, coughing and gasping for air. The fire was out and the stove was hissing at me like a snake, ready for a deadly attack. I turned off the stove and rushed to open up the windows in the kitchen. I poked my head out of the window and inhaled deeply as I felt fresh oxygen filling my lungs.
Feeling better, I rushed out of the kitchen and opened up the other windows that were closed. The Cantonese opera was still blasting loudly from the neigbour. I slumped into the sofa as I felt the smell of gas escaping the house.
The strange thing was, I could not remember what happened, but what was still fresh in my memory was that, I never closed any window.
Definitely not the kitchen ones because I felt a breeze after I came out of the shower earlier on and even looked outside the window.
Someone's in here.
That was the first thought I had. Instinctively, I sat up and became aware of my surroundings. It was weird, to be aware of one's own home, but then again, it had only been my home for one day.
I walked into the kitchen and was even more surprised when I saw the water in the pot. It was still half full, and that indicated that before the water even start boiling, the fire went out.
I looked around the kitchen and went into the bedrooms. No signs of intruders, no signs of break-ins.
What I didn't know was, that was the first sign of HIM.
****************************************
A couple of days went past without any strange happenings. I was convinced that it was probably my hallucination or it was simply due to fatigue. I brushed that incident off and continued doing what I do everyday.
My parents' relationship, on the other hand, was starting to go downhill. My mother hated this house and nagged at my father's failed business relentlessly. The house often got noisy during evening time and for once, I actually thanked the Cantonese opera blasting from the neighbour.
"Did you look for a new job?" Mom was asking father during dinner.
I gripped onto my chopsticks and stuffed rice into my mouth. Such topics were going to lead to more arguments and I really had enough of that.
Father kept quiet and picked up a piece of pork from a plate and ate it.
Mother dropped her chopsticks by her bowl with a dull "thud" and rubbed her temples. Father reluctantly put down his chopsticks too. The atmosphere was intense. I could hear a fly buzzing around our table.
"James, how many times have I told you to give up this damn business of yours? It's not going to work out." Mother muttered under her breath, still rubbing her temples.
"Give it some time." Father replied.
Mother flipped the chopsticks off the table and her bowl of rice trembled at the edge of the dining table, threatening to drop. "Time, time, time! How much time do we have to give you?! How long more do we have to stay in this shit hole?! It's all because of you and your stupid health business, this had to happen! If you stayed on your previous job and continue saving up the money we have been scrimping and saving all these years, I don't think we'll end up in this house!"
She was close to sobbing towards the end of her argument. I had to stop eating and sit closer to her. I wrapped my arm around her and tried to comfort her. "Ma. It's fine. We'll just give Pa another chance to try it out. Maybe, things might work out?"
Mother stood up from the dining table and walked away despondently, back into the room. Father's face was in his hands. I think, he was also sobbing softly. I understood the necessity of leaving him alone in times like these. I walked into my room quietly as well and decided to complete some paperwork I decided to complete at home. The workload in the office was overwhelming and I had to stop staying back in the office because the air conditioner at the office shuts down automatically by eight. After that, the office would be heating up like sauna.
I opened up my bag and was about to take out my work file when shreds of paper were scattered onto the floor as I lifted the file. I opened up my file and to my horror, the documents in the file were all torn to bits and pieces. I was shocked at what happened. I fell onto my chair and tried to recall anyone who came near my bag.
Jeff. Jeff Teo.
That was it. Jeff Teo was one of my colleagues at work who was competing competitively with me in the office. Everyone was talking about the promising managerial position opened after our previous manager left unexpectedly. Jeff and I were the most possible candidates, so as we were told.
That day, I left my bag at my desk when I picked up a phonecall from Winnie's desk that was three tables away from mine. Winnie had knocked off exactly at six and only a few of us were around. When I hung up the phone, I saw Jeff walking pass my desk and hurried into the pantry.
I threw the file onto the bed and kicked my desk. I was angry, fuming. To think that Jeff would resort to such underhand methods to get that managerial post.
*****************************************
The following day, I went to office slightly earlier. I did not sleep at all for the night, trying to rush out the documents that were shredded. Although I completed only half of what I did the past week, I was comforted that I could maybe, hand in the proposal by the end of next week, which was the dateline.
I was suprised to see Jeff sitting by his desk already, typing away on his keyboard. I was determined to find out why he did what he did.
I marched up to him and threw my black file on his table. He stopped typing and looked up at me, slightly startled, but recovered shortly.
"I think you have alot of explanation to do." I started, resting against his divider.
He swiveled his chair towards me and played with his pen. The ticking sound was irritating me.
"What are you talking about?" He asked.
I opened up my bag and took out the folder file that contained the shreds of paper, messily torn. I threw it on the table and looked at him.
"You are really childish, you know? To do such things at your age. It really makes me ashame to be of the same gender as you. It's fucking gay." I was trying my best not to raise my voice or sound angry. I wanted him to admit it before I throw him a heavy punch. I was clenching my fist.
Jeff lifted the folder slightly and looked at me with a puzzled expression. "What is this? I don't know what you are talking about."
I grabbed his tie and pulled him close to me, close enough to smell my coffee breath.
"Look here, Jeff Teo. What you did, was totally unethical and if I ever catch you doing this again, I'll make sure you get it from me. Fucker." I muttered under his nose and threw him back against his chair roughly.
I took my bag and stormed off. It felt good, for once, to vent my anger like this. I have never used violence on anybody, not even the classmate who punched me in Primary school. I was born to learn about peace and love in the name of Jesus. But Jeff really went over the line, plus the fact that I did not sleep for a night, I lost it.
What I did not know was, this was the start of what HE wanted me to do.
To be angry.
****************************************
That night, I went to bed early because I was extremely tired after staying awake for a night and an entire day. Throughout the entire day at work, Jeff looked at me weirdly. I remembered growling at him once, which I have never done so in my life.
At about 3AM, I woke up to a loud knock on my door. I was startled. I sat up and listened intently in the darkness for another knock.
Then it came again. The second knock.
I got the door and peered outside my living room. Nobody. No one. I took a glance at my parents' room and found the door closed.
I closed the door and went back to my room. As I shut the door, I heard a male's laughter coming from the living room. It was low, and almost like a snigger.
I threw opened the door and peered out once again, to find the cushions on the floor. When I opened the door a minute ago, the cushions were nicely placed on the sofa.
I stepped out and braced myself as I walked towards the light switch near my main door. Before I could flip the switch on, I heard the laughter again.
Instinctively, I turned around and saw a dark shadow of a man, standing near my room door, almost three feet away from me. I could not make out his features, but he was tall, taller than me, and slightly well built.
I squinted my eyes at the dark shadow, trying to figure out the features, but realised that I could not, no matter how I strain my eyes.
"Who are you?" I asked, bracing myself, just in case he was some burglar or something.
He sniggered at me again. "I am your fear." He replied, his voice raspy.
"What?" I asked, totally puzzled.
"You're such a loser. You lost your girlfriend, and you are of no help to your poor parents who have to live in this damn house with you. Plus, you are not going to get promoted. Tsk. You're fucking pathetic." The shadow said, and walked over to the sofa. He sat down and looked at me, his head turned to me. "You should just die. Don't you hate your parents? Don't you hate your girlfriend? How about Jeff Teo? Don't you just hate all of them for ruining your life? If you are, why are you not doing anything about it?"
I was almost leaning against the wall now. I was breathless and I felt faint. Why was I even talking to something that was probably not there?
I had to admit, I was totally freaked out. Like what anyone would do, I flipped on the switch and my living room lit up. He was gone. No more shadow, no more voices.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was starting to think, maybe, I starting to go crazy.
My mother came out from her room and looked at me with squinted eyes, due to the bright light. She must have heard me talking to someone.
"Wei ah! Are you okay?" She asked with concern, coming up to me. "You look so pale. Who were you talking to?"
I opened up my eyes and hugged my mother like a five year old child. I was afraid. I was fucking afraid.
And HE knew that too.
********************************************
Things started to go terrible for me. My mother prayed for me every single day, but I just could not shake off the image I saw that night. In fact, after that particular incident, I had been seeing him around me. All the time.
When the lift door opened, I was welcomed by the voices of Cantonese opera coming from the house beside ours. It was the Cantonese old lady who told my father that someone died in our flat years ago and several people who stayed in always left within a year. My father, being a staunch Christian, brushed that off as mere rumour and insisted on moving into the dirt cheap, spacious flat.
My mother was against the idea of living in there too, but once my father lay the cards, we all have to obey them.
The house was barely furnished. The living room was sparce except for some simple furnitures. Father had engaged a moving company to shift our furnitures and beds into this house. So, the living room had a dark brown sofa with a little bit of coffee stain on it, a wooden coffee table, and a small television. That was about it. No fan, no fancy lightings.
I moved my suitcase into my room and looked at the small space I was given for my privacy. There were transparent wrappers all over the room, apparently the irresponsibility of the moving company's workers. My bed was resting against the corner of the room, right beside the windows that were facing the common corridor. I stumbled across the room and flipped the stoppers upwards to open up the windows. I needed some sunlight and fresh air. The air in the room was too stagnent and stuffy.
My closet was placed directly at the foot of my bed.
Bad arrangement. I thought.
I decided to leave it be at the moment to be busy with other things more important. I opened up my suitcase and took out my things. I had nothing much to bring along, unlike my mother who brought three suitcases full of her own things. Women, I can never understand them.
I picked up the top layer of T-shirt and found a silver photoframe of a couple smiling happily back at me. I placed the T-shirt I was holding onto the bed and picked up the photoframe.
Betty. She and I were dating for four years before we broke up a year and a half ago. She was my first love, and so was I to her. We were committed to each other. You know - I met her parents, she met mine, we wore each other rings - that sort of commitment. But things got bad when she attended University. I had to serve my National Service, and within that two years, we had our worries and fights. We seemed to be drifting further and further apart. She was the one who spoke of breaking up, and I gladly obliged at that time, happy to shake a burden off. Now that I am out of National Service and is working in a computer company, I realised that I could never forget her, so I was bent on getting her back.
I placed the photoframe on the study desk and continued to unpack. That was when I heard my mother's soft, muffled voice, coming from the living room.
"Look at this house. Is it fit for living?" She asked, her voice almost inaudible.
Father did not respond. Or was it because he could not overcome his own opinion of this house? I listened intentively for a good one minute before I decided to continue unpacking.
Night came faster when I was busy. Before I knew it, darkness engulfed my bedroom.
I flipped on the switch that lit the entire room with a pathetic light bulb and continued to finish unpacking.
******************************************
Things went well on our first night.
It was the second night that something peculiar happened.
I came home from work, totally bushed. I was irritated at the loud volume coming from the Cantonese old lady's flat, blasting Cantonese opera all day long. What I looked forward towards the end of a tiring day was a calm and quiet evening.
My parents were out that evening. There was a note on the fridge handwritten by my mother teling me to settle my dinner on my own because they will be out till late to visit a friend in church.
I threw the note away and decided to boil some water to cook some instant noodles. The gas hissed as I striked a matchstick and started fire at the stove. I placed the small pot with water half filled in it on top of the stove and left the kitchen.
I did not know what happened after I sat in the living room while waiting for my water to boil. What I knew was, when I woke up from a supposedly short nap, the house was overwhelmed with the awful smell of gas. I ran into the kitchen, coughing and gasping for air. The fire was out and the stove was hissing at me like a snake, ready for a deadly attack. I turned off the stove and rushed to open up the windows in the kitchen. I poked my head out of the window and inhaled deeply as I felt fresh oxygen filling my lungs.
Feeling better, I rushed out of the kitchen and opened up the other windows that were closed. The Cantonese opera was still blasting loudly from the neigbour. I slumped into the sofa as I felt the smell of gas escaping the house.
The strange thing was, I could not remember what happened, but what was still fresh in my memory was that, I never closed any window.
Definitely not the kitchen ones because I felt a breeze after I came out of the shower earlier on and even looked outside the window.
Someone's in here.
That was the first thought I had. Instinctively, I sat up and became aware of my surroundings. It was weird, to be aware of one's own home, but then again, it had only been my home for one day.
I walked into the kitchen and was even more surprised when I saw the water in the pot. It was still half full, and that indicated that before the water even start boiling, the fire went out.
I looked around the kitchen and went into the bedrooms. No signs of intruders, no signs of break-ins.
What I didn't know was, that was the first sign of HIM.
****************************************
A couple of days went past without any strange happenings. I was convinced that it was probably my hallucination or it was simply due to fatigue. I brushed that incident off and continued doing what I do everyday.
My parents' relationship, on the other hand, was starting to go downhill. My mother hated this house and nagged at my father's failed business relentlessly. The house often got noisy during evening time and for once, I actually thanked the Cantonese opera blasting from the neighbour.
"Did you look for a new job?" Mom was asking father during dinner.
I gripped onto my chopsticks and stuffed rice into my mouth. Such topics were going to lead to more arguments and I really had enough of that.
Father kept quiet and picked up a piece of pork from a plate and ate it.
Mother dropped her chopsticks by her bowl with a dull "thud" and rubbed her temples. Father reluctantly put down his chopsticks too. The atmosphere was intense. I could hear a fly buzzing around our table.
"James, how many times have I told you to give up this damn business of yours? It's not going to work out." Mother muttered under her breath, still rubbing her temples.
"Give it some time." Father replied.
Mother flipped the chopsticks off the table and her bowl of rice trembled at the edge of the dining table, threatening to drop. "Time, time, time! How much time do we have to give you?! How long more do we have to stay in this shit hole?! It's all because of you and your stupid health business, this had to happen! If you stayed on your previous job and continue saving up the money we have been scrimping and saving all these years, I don't think we'll end up in this house!"
She was close to sobbing towards the end of her argument. I had to stop eating and sit closer to her. I wrapped my arm around her and tried to comfort her. "Ma. It's fine. We'll just give Pa another chance to try it out. Maybe, things might work out?"
Mother stood up from the dining table and walked away despondently, back into the room. Father's face was in his hands. I think, he was also sobbing softly. I understood the necessity of leaving him alone in times like these. I walked into my room quietly as well and decided to complete some paperwork I decided to complete at home. The workload in the office was overwhelming and I had to stop staying back in the office because the air conditioner at the office shuts down automatically by eight. After that, the office would be heating up like sauna.
I opened up my bag and was about to take out my work file when shreds of paper were scattered onto the floor as I lifted the file. I opened up my file and to my horror, the documents in the file were all torn to bits and pieces. I was shocked at what happened. I fell onto my chair and tried to recall anyone who came near my bag.
Jeff. Jeff Teo.
That was it. Jeff Teo was one of my colleagues at work who was competing competitively with me in the office. Everyone was talking about the promising managerial position opened after our previous manager left unexpectedly. Jeff and I were the most possible candidates, so as we were told.
That day, I left my bag at my desk when I picked up a phonecall from Winnie's desk that was three tables away from mine. Winnie had knocked off exactly at six and only a few of us were around. When I hung up the phone, I saw Jeff walking pass my desk and hurried into the pantry.
I threw the file onto the bed and kicked my desk. I was angry, fuming. To think that Jeff would resort to such underhand methods to get that managerial post.
*****************************************
The following day, I went to office slightly earlier. I did not sleep at all for the night, trying to rush out the documents that were shredded. Although I completed only half of what I did the past week, I was comforted that I could maybe, hand in the proposal by the end of next week, which was the dateline.
I was suprised to see Jeff sitting by his desk already, typing away on his keyboard. I was determined to find out why he did what he did.
I marched up to him and threw my black file on his table. He stopped typing and looked up at me, slightly startled, but recovered shortly.
"I think you have alot of explanation to do." I started, resting against his divider.
He swiveled his chair towards me and played with his pen. The ticking sound was irritating me.
"What are you talking about?" He asked.
I opened up my bag and took out the folder file that contained the shreds of paper, messily torn. I threw it on the table and looked at him.
"You are really childish, you know? To do such things at your age. It really makes me ashame to be of the same gender as you. It's fucking gay." I was trying my best not to raise my voice or sound angry. I wanted him to admit it before I throw him a heavy punch. I was clenching my fist.
Jeff lifted the folder slightly and looked at me with a puzzled expression. "What is this? I don't know what you are talking about."
I grabbed his tie and pulled him close to me, close enough to smell my coffee breath.
"Look here, Jeff Teo. What you did, was totally unethical and if I ever catch you doing this again, I'll make sure you get it from me. Fucker." I muttered under his nose and threw him back against his chair roughly.
I took my bag and stormed off. It felt good, for once, to vent my anger like this. I have never used violence on anybody, not even the classmate who punched me in Primary school. I was born to learn about peace and love in the name of Jesus. But Jeff really went over the line, plus the fact that I did not sleep for a night, I lost it.
What I did not know was, this was the start of what HE wanted me to do.
To be angry.
****************************************
That night, I went to bed early because I was extremely tired after staying awake for a night and an entire day. Throughout the entire day at work, Jeff looked at me weirdly. I remembered growling at him once, which I have never done so in my life.
At about 3AM, I woke up to a loud knock on my door. I was startled. I sat up and listened intently in the darkness for another knock.
Then it came again. The second knock.
I got the door and peered outside my living room. Nobody. No one. I took a glance at my parents' room and found the door closed.
I closed the door and went back to my room. As I shut the door, I heard a male's laughter coming from the living room. It was low, and almost like a snigger.
I threw opened the door and peered out once again, to find the cushions on the floor. When I opened the door a minute ago, the cushions were nicely placed on the sofa.
I stepped out and braced myself as I walked towards the light switch near my main door. Before I could flip the switch on, I heard the laughter again.
Instinctively, I turned around and saw a dark shadow of a man, standing near my room door, almost three feet away from me. I could not make out his features, but he was tall, taller than me, and slightly well built.
I squinted my eyes at the dark shadow, trying to figure out the features, but realised that I could not, no matter how I strain my eyes.
"Who are you?" I asked, bracing myself, just in case he was some burglar or something.
He sniggered at me again. "I am your fear." He replied, his voice raspy.
"What?" I asked, totally puzzled.
"You're such a loser. You lost your girlfriend, and you are of no help to your poor parents who have to live in this damn house with you. Plus, you are not going to get promoted. Tsk. You're fucking pathetic." The shadow said, and walked over to the sofa. He sat down and looked at me, his head turned to me. "You should just die. Don't you hate your parents? Don't you hate your girlfriend? How about Jeff Teo? Don't you just hate all of them for ruining your life? If you are, why are you not doing anything about it?"
I was almost leaning against the wall now. I was breathless and I felt faint. Why was I even talking to something that was probably not there?
I had to admit, I was totally freaked out. Like what anyone would do, I flipped on the switch and my living room lit up. He was gone. No more shadow, no more voices.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was starting to think, maybe, I starting to go crazy.
My mother came out from her room and looked at me with squinted eyes, due to the bright light. She must have heard me talking to someone.
"Wei ah! Are you okay?" She asked with concern, coming up to me. "You look so pale. Who were you talking to?"
I opened up my eyes and hugged my mother like a five year old child. I was afraid. I was fucking afraid.
And HE knew that too.
********************************************
Things started to go terrible for me. My mother prayed for me every single day, but I just could not shake off the image I saw that night. In fact, after that particular incident, I had been seeing him around me. All the time.
Weeks passed and I was still shakened by the experience. Many times, he would appear infront of me, laughing. He was laughing at me. My head ached intolerably and I spent my days in bed, trying to get some sleep. I stopped shaving and I looked dishevelled and skinny. My mother tried to make me eat, but I refused, because whenever I tried to eat something, I would see him, standing at some corner in the room, sniggering at me. He hardly spoke anything, and I could not figure out his features. He was just a dark, evil shadow.
"Mingwei," Betty called out softly as I was curled up like a little baby in my bed. My eyes were closed, but my mind was awake.
She came into my room and sat gently beside me. That was when I realised that the only girl I loved was really there. She touched my shoulder and I opened up my eyes. I was sobbing.
"Bet!" I cried aloud and hugged her waist. "I'm so scared. There's a ghost in this house and he's haunting me everyday! I'm really scared!"
"Mingwei, there's nothing to be afraid of. You're worrying your parents, you know that?" She asked, her voice light and crisp.
I sat up immediately and shouted at something behind Betty.
"Betty! Watch it!" I called out, but it was too late, HIS hands were already around her neck, tightening every second. Betty started to struggle. I tried to pull HIS hands away from her, but it seemed as though he was invisible. I was not able to feel him.
I was totally shakened by the whole experience. I knelt before Betty and grabbed her warm hands. She was starting to feel cool. I cried. I cried like a helpless child. It was not common for a twenty four year old man to cry like that. I tried to shake her, maybe, she would wake up or something, but nothing like that happened.
************************************************
That evening, I sat beside Betty's lifeless body for a good one hour before my mother came into the room. When she saw Betty lying infront of me, looking tortured and dead, she took several steps back before she started screaming.
"Ma!" I cried and ran after her. She was trying to search for the keys in her handbag.
"Don't... Don't come near me." She was stuttering as she overturned her bag nervously. Her things fell out freely onto the sofa as she went on her knees and started searching for her keys within her belongings.
I was nervous. Why was my mother afraid of me? I was not the murderer! It was HIM!
"Ma! It wasn't me! Really!" I exclaimed, trying to prove to my mother I was innocent. "It was HIM! I swear! You know I will never kill anybody!'
I was moving forward when my mother looked at me with the key in her hand, her eyes filled with terror and tears of fear. Her mascara ran down her cheeks as her tears fell. She was shaking badly. She pointed the key at me and stuttered. "You.. You are the son of the devil! How could you kill Betty?! How could you kill anyone?!" She was crying now.
I stepped forward and she screamed. "STOP! Don't come any nearer! You are no longer the Weiming I used to know! We used to know! You are just a murderer! Everyone told me you're a devil's son but I chose not to believe them and see where it's leading me!"
"Ma! Listen to me-" I was about to explain myself when the shadow appeared behind my mother.
"Get away from her!" I shouted into the air. My mother looked at me with a puzzled look and sniffled at her mucus, her hands still shaking.
"Get lost!" I shouted again.
HE was sniggering at me again. "Tsk, tsk. Look at you, so fucking pathetic. Your own mother calls you the son of the devil. Ain't you fucking pathetic? Don't you want to do something about it? To people who call you useless?"
I covered my ears in my hands and knelt down in tears. I was breaking apart, and HE knew it.
"Stop, please, stop." I was crying now. "Please don't hurt anyone."
HE laughed and grabbed my mother's hand that held the key. I looked up when my mother gasped at the invisible force that was grabbing onto her hand.
Slowly, he slitted my mother's throat using the edge of the key. My mother was screaming as I lunged forward and pushed her down towards the direction of HIM. The cut went deeper when I did that.
"Ma!" I cried out loud and grabbed her hand to stop her from continuing what she was doing.
It was too late. Mother stopped breathing when I finally pulled the hand down that fell freely by her side.
I fell back onto the floor and pushed myself away from my mother's corpse. "No...No!" I cried, pulling my hair as I screamed repeatedly. My face was smeared with my mother's blood.
HE stood infront of me now. For the first time, I saw how he looked like. He had dark brown hair that curled a little, and dark brown eyes that contained a little sadness. I shook my head as he bent forward and looked at me in the eyes. He was extremely pale and there was an evil grin when he did that.
"When I look at you, you reminded me of myself. Useless, and pathetic. I chose to die because I dare not kill. See now, I've killed those who criticises you. Now, nobody will speak ill of you. Don't you feel better now that these damn people are dead?"
"No! No! Why?! Why must you do this to me?" I cried and buried my face in my hands.
HE laughed and stood up straight. "Because you are living in my house. I do not allow coward people to live in my house. Others have been scared off, but you, I want to help you. Look what I've done! I've destroyed all the evil people around you. You are safe now! Shouldn't you even thank me?"
I kept quiet and continued sobbing for the longest time.
****************************************************
My father came back that day and found the house in a mess. He also found the two bodies, and me, crying with blood in my hands. I did not explain to him, or spoke to him when he demanded to know what happened. He called the police and I was arrested within six hours after their murder.
I told the police what I knew, but they said that there were only my fingerprints on them and also on the key that mother used to slit herself. They were convinced that I was the killer.
Readers, please believe me. I am not a murderer. That house, is now vacant. Do not live in there! Please do not live in that damn house! I am now in the Institute Of Mental Health. I have to be locked up forever all because of HIM.
I still see HIM once in awhile, and when I do, I simply look away because that is when I know that he is going to find his next victim.
Nobody knows the truth except Mother, Betty, and I.
That evening, I sat beside Betty's lifeless body for a good one hour before my mother came into the room. When she saw Betty lying infront of me, looking tortured and dead, she took several steps back before she started screaming.
"Ma!" I cried and ran after her. She was trying to search for the keys in her handbag.
"Don't... Don't come near me." She was stuttering as she overturned her bag nervously. Her things fell out freely onto the sofa as she went on her knees and started searching for her keys within her belongings.
I was nervous. Why was my mother afraid of me? I was not the murderer! It was HIM!
"Ma! It wasn't me! Really!" I exclaimed, trying to prove to my mother I was innocent. "It was HIM! I swear! You know I will never kill anybody!'
I was moving forward when my mother looked at me with the key in her hand, her eyes filled with terror and tears of fear. Her mascara ran down her cheeks as her tears fell. She was shaking badly. She pointed the key at me and stuttered. "You.. You are the son of the devil! How could you kill Betty?! How could you kill anyone?!" She was crying now.
I stepped forward and she screamed. "STOP! Don't come any nearer! You are no longer the Weiming I used to know! We used to know! You are just a murderer! Everyone told me you're a devil's son but I chose not to believe them and see where it's leading me!"
"Ma! Listen to me-" I was about to explain myself when the shadow appeared behind my mother.
"Get away from her!" I shouted into the air. My mother looked at me with a puzzled look and sniffled at her mucus, her hands still shaking.
"Get lost!" I shouted again.
HE was sniggering at me again. "Tsk, tsk. Look at you, so fucking pathetic. Your own mother calls you the son of the devil. Ain't you fucking pathetic? Don't you want to do something about it? To people who call you useless?"
I covered my ears in my hands and knelt down in tears. I was breaking apart, and HE knew it.
"Stop, please, stop." I was crying now. "Please don't hurt anyone."
HE laughed and grabbed my mother's hand that held the key. I looked up when my mother gasped at the invisible force that was grabbing onto her hand.
Slowly, he slitted my mother's throat using the edge of the key. My mother was screaming as I lunged forward and pushed her down towards the direction of HIM. The cut went deeper when I did that.
"Ma!" I cried out loud and grabbed her hand to stop her from continuing what she was doing.
It was too late. Mother stopped breathing when I finally pulled the hand down that fell freely by her side.
I fell back onto the floor and pushed myself away from my mother's corpse. "No...No!" I cried, pulling my hair as I screamed repeatedly. My face was smeared with my mother's blood.
HE stood infront of me now. For the first time, I saw how he looked like. He had dark brown hair that curled a little, and dark brown eyes that contained a little sadness. I shook my head as he bent forward and looked at me in the eyes. He was extremely pale and there was an evil grin when he did that.
"When I look at you, you reminded me of myself. Useless, and pathetic. I chose to die because I dare not kill. See now, I've killed those who criticises you. Now, nobody will speak ill of you. Don't you feel better now that these damn people are dead?"
"No! No! Why?! Why must you do this to me?" I cried and buried my face in my hands.
HE laughed and stood up straight. "Because you are living in my house. I do not allow coward people to live in my house. Others have been scared off, but you, I want to help you. Look what I've done! I've destroyed all the evil people around you. You are safe now! Shouldn't you even thank me?"
I kept quiet and continued sobbing for the longest time.
****************************************************
My father came back that day and found the house in a mess. He also found the two bodies, and me, crying with blood in my hands. I did not explain to him, or spoke to him when he demanded to know what happened. He called the police and I was arrested within six hours after their murder.
I told the police what I knew, but they said that there were only my fingerprints on them and also on the key that mother used to slit herself. They were convinced that I was the killer.
Readers, please believe me. I am not a murderer. That house, is now vacant. Do not live in there! Please do not live in that damn house! I am now in the Institute Of Mental Health. I have to be locked up forever all because of HIM.
I still see HIM once in awhile, and when I do, I simply look away because that is when I know that he is going to find his next victim.
Nobody knows the truth except Mother, Betty, and I.
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