The second morning in our new house greeted us with the sharp smell of wall paint and towering stacks of cardboard boxes piled in the corners. I rubbed my rough-feeling face, trying to pull myself together after spending the night battling a female ghost with a crooked head. Beside me, Zayn was busy slamming around the cardboard boxes filled with his toys.
“Sis Yuna, where do I put this box of comics?” Zayn asked between heavy breaths.
“In your room, Zayn. Where else? The bathroom?” I answered weakly while stretching my stiff muscles.
Actually, there was one main reason I was this exhausted. It wasn’t just from hauling things around. It was because this old, ’90s-era house was “crowded.” Extremely crowded. As an oldest child blessed with the ability to see the unseen since I was little, I had already waved the white flag. I was tired. Back then, every time I admitted I could see them, my life turned into social services for ghosts. Today, I swore to myself that I’d pretend to be spiritually blind for the sake of my peace of mind.
I headed for the kitchen. Mom was already busy battling the frying pan, rummaging through the ingredients in the refrigerator. Dad was nowhere to be seen yet, probably still happily watering the dead plants in the front yard.
“Yuna, help Mom wash last night’s dishes, okay? Then we can have breakfast right away,” Mom called without looking back.
“Sure, Mom,” I replied shortly.
I tied my hair up high, turned on the faucet, and started scrubbing the dishes. Everything went smoothly until water began pooling in the sink. The drain was clogged.
“Ugh, clogged again,” I muttered.
I peeked into the tiny drain hole. Hmm, what was that? It looked like coconut fiber, but it was black. Strangely, the thing was crawling upward. Was it a caterpillar? Or hair? Why was there so much of it? Curious, I pulled on it.
Screeech... screeech...
My hand felt a strange sensation, like I was shampooing someone’s hair. Sure enough, from inside that impossibly narrow drain, a pair of blood-red, bulging eyes appeared, followed by the head of a woman with a deathly pale face and skin peeling off in places. Her face was barely three centimeters from mine. The smell of blood and wet earth stabbed straight into my nose.
“Demon!” I cursed.
I was so startled that I didn’t have time to control myself. I immediately threw the creature’s head into the sink. Unfortunately, I lost my balance. I slipped on the drops of water and landed hard on my butt on the kitchen floor. It felt like my ass had split in two.
Mom, who had been flipping fried tempeh, ran straight toward me. The spatula nearly flew out of her hand. “Oh, God, Yuna! What happened? How did you manage to fall flat on your back like that?”
Mom helped me to my feet. Meanwhile, the female ghost’s head was still floating above the sink, sticking out her long black tongue and waiting for me to scream hysterically.
I swallowed. My heart pounded wildly, as if it wanted to break out of my chest. Not wanting to give myself away, I hurriedly put on the most innocent, blameless expression in the world.
“It’s nothing, Mom. There was a cockroach. It flew right into my face,” I improvised, rubbing my throbbing butt.
Mom shook her head. “Always making excuses. Whatever. Go sit at the dining table. Mom will finish washing the dishes.”
I trudged toward the wooden dining table in the middle of the kitchen, massaging my sprained wrist. But the moment I sat down, I smelled that bloody odor again. Sitting directly in front of me was the ghost woman in full, wearing a tattered white dress. She leaned toward me, her neck snapping to the left with an unbearably painful KRAK.
“I know you can see me, Yunaaa...” she whispered hoarsely. “Help me...”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Hang in there, Yuna. Don’t respond. If you respond, she’ll demand a forty-day tahlilan ceremony.
I pretended to stare straight ahead, looking through her as if she were nothing but empty air. I felt around on the table, grabbed a kitchen knife and an apple, then pretended to casually peel it—even though my hand was shaking violently.
“Don’t ignore me! My neck hurts, Yunaaa!” She started throwing a fit. She flew in circles above me, thrusting her frightening face right in front of my eyes.
I almost gave up and screamed, “GO AWAY!” but I held it in for the sake of this performance I intended to keep up for the rest of my life.
I rose casually from the dining table, ignoring the chilling air the creature blew against my neck, then strolled unconcernedly toward the living room. I dropped onto the thick sofa in front of the TV and turned it on, trying to find a morning cartoon to take my mind off the stress.
Zayn, passing by with another cardboard box, stared at me in confusion. “Sis, why are you watching TV? We’re not done cleaning up yet.”
“I just fell, you know. Don’t be jealous,” I replied firmly.
Suddenly, the television screen displaying a colorful cartoon turned into snowy static. A loud buzzing filled the room. The TV screen bulged outward like thick rubber. From behind the glass, two pale hands with elongated black nails emerged, crawling out onto the wooden floor!
Widya crawled out of the TV, just like the ghost in the movie Sadako, her long hair trailing across the floor. The living room suddenly grew dark and menacing.
“Heennhh... heeennhh... you can’t run from meee...” she groaned eerily as she crawled toward my sofa.
I let out a long sigh. I picked up the TV remote and pressed the Power button.
Click.
The TV screen went dark. Widya’s body, which had only just emerged halfway, suddenly became wedged in the television frame. Her head and hands were outside, while everything below her hips remained trapped inside the now-dark screen.
“Ow, that hurts! Hey, why’d you turn it off? My hips are stuck!” Widya shrieked, instantly losing all of her terrifying aura.
I folded my arms and stared flatly at the television.
“Looks like this TV’s broken. Whatever. Dad can get it fixed later.” As I said this, I walked away, leaving her thrashing around as she tried to free her hips from the monitor.
That’ll teach her, I grumbled inwardly.