The Girl in a 'White Baju Kurung'

It was almost 11pm as my husband and I drove through the highway. There was not a lot of car at this hour, which is very typical. We just got back from our hometown in Kelantan, visiting my mother in law. She was sick with diabetes. Diabetes seems like a common thing within the community in Kelantan, I realized, probably due to the fact that their dishes were mainly sweeter, often delicious. Kelantanese do have a sweet palate, I chuckled in my head, glancing at Rashid, my husband, who was busy maneuvering the wheel, concentrating his thoughts on the road. Rashid would end up with diabetes if he continued to devour his Nasi Dagang on a daily basis, chances of a heart disease too. I made a mental note to monitor Rashid's diet.

We drove quietly in content. When you're married for almost thirty years, sitting silently with your partner can be peaceful. Rashid and I had three kids together, all boys, growing into men. All three were still studying, in different university, one in Pahang, one in Kedah and another one in Sabah. I stared at the black shiny street and felt relief to hear the pitter patter of the rain. I love the rain. I love the after rain smell too. The pouring rain wasn't heavy at first, but a few second in, my husband needed to slow down the speed of the car, from 100 kilometer per hour to 80 kilometer per hour, as to not lose control of the car as the heavy rain made it harder to see. It is roughly some hundreds of kilometer distance from Kelantan to our house, and we have roughly 4 hours more to reach there. At this rate, it's going to be about 3 in the morning when we reach our house. But better late than never, right?

It was becoming harder to see, Rashid started leaning forward, his chest against the steering wheel.

"Does it help?" I teased. "Could you see better when you do that?"

"Nope," my husband laughed, leaning back, realizing how ridiculous he looked.

My mind started to go elsewhere. I stared blankly out the window, eyes trying to look for the moon but couldn't find it. They promised it would be a full moon that night, but all I could see was a faint glow among the clouds. Probably the heavy rain clouds were hiding the moon.

"I'm bored," my husband suddenly gave me a playful slap on my lap. I jumped, startled.

"What do you want me to do?" I scowled, "Sing you a song?"

"You know," he smiled, eyes squinting, again thinking he could see better when he does that. "I've heard a lot of ghost experience from friends driving on this road."

"Don't you dare," I warned him. I'm very afraid of ghosts to be honest. But at the same time, I am a bit curious what kind of story my husband will spin. He's a creative soul. He can narrate things at the spur of the moment. At the same time, I am still frightened. I like to imagine things, especially when I am alone.

"You know Max, right?" he asked. "Max who worked with me?"

Nope. I did not know any Max. I did not answer his question, instead glaring at him to stop telling stupid ghost stories.

I don't think he noticed me glaring because he went on with Max's story. "Max was driving alone on a rainy night like this, but very late around 2 to 3 am. It was very dark and there was no one else but him."

I rolled my eyes and stared ahead. There was a sudden flash of lightning, followed by a low rumbling of thunder seconds later.

"Well, he was cruising down the road, of course he felt a little sleepy. So he turned on the radio and tried to get a clear transmission because you know, these area, you can't get a signal." He jabbed his finger on the radio button to turn it on and we sat there waiting to listen to any sign of songs. There was nothing but a static sound. After waiting for almost a minute, he turned it off just to prove a point. He looked at me sideway to observe my reaction.

I rolled my eyes and half shrug my shoulders, eyes returning to the road. I could see my husband grinning from the corner of my eye. He obviously knew that I am easily scared. Making me shit my pants was his favorite hobby, still is. Once, I accidently punched him in the face when he jumped me in our house. I thought I was home alone, returning from work. He had his face powdered white, wearing an all-black outfit, and he stood in the corner of our kitchen in the dark. I did not see him as I walked into the kitchen feeling thirsty and went directly towards the refrigerator for a glass of cold water, not bothering to turn on the lights. He jumped me when my back was turned with a loud boo! I screamed, turning around, when I saw his white face, I gave him punch. We didn't talk to each other for several days, his left eye blackened. Friends thought it was domestic abuse.

"So Max, he decided to listen to his playlist that he had on his phone," Rashid continued. "So he connected his phone to his car with the Bluetooth and hit play. Max increased the volume of the radio so that it would, you know, make himself less sleepy."

"Is this story going anywhere?" I asked. "Because this story makes me sleepy."

"Don't you dare leave me alone," Rashid playfully poke the side of my face. "So anyway, after a while, Max smelled something. Something rather rancid."

"Did he fart?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly. If he farts I would say that he smelled his own fart."

Suddenly Rashid hits on the emergency break and the car went into a halt. Luckily there was no car behind us and luckily both of us had our seatbelts on. Rashid leaned forward again to see what was on the road ahead of us. It looked like medium sized log, but it was moving fast. It was very hard to see as the rain keeps washing against the windshield. He moved the car closer to get a better view.

"It's a 'Biawak Air', honey," Rashid said. He put a signal on and carefully maneuver his car slowly to proceed on the highway. Biawak Air is the Malay term for Water Monitor, which is not that rarely seen crossing the roads in Malaysia, even highways. I laughed nervously thinking that it would be ironic if we had an accident in the middle of nowhere because of the Water Monitor.

'So Max smelled something," Rashid continued as soon as the road was cleares, unaffected of what had just happened. "He thought maybe his window was open or something, but it's not. His windows were shut. Max had this air freshener which he always keeps in his car, so he started spraying it, aiming for the back seat, because he think it came from the back."

Rashid paused for a yawn. Seeing him yawn, I yawned too. Yawning, it's contagious.

"The music was loud, right? I told you Max had turn up the volume, so he could hear everything. The voice of the singer singing. He's a big fan of Evanescence, you know the rock band?"

"Nope," I shook my head. I'm not a big fan of rock. I'm more of a pop taste. I liked local music. Faizal Tahir is my favorite.

"Meh, doesn't matter," Rashid said, disappointed. "Anyway, Max had this Bring Me to Life song on the radio. Because he had turn on the volume so loud, he could hear the singer's voice, and also another woman's voice that seems to be singing along."

I looked at him, wide eyed. "Really? It's not the overlapping voice of the singer?" I asked because sometimes there are layered voices in songs.

"Nope. Positive. Max said he's positive the voice does not sounded like Amy Lee, the singer. He didn't know where it came from. But when he turn off the radio the voice stops, but like half a second late. So that was pretty creepy."

"That's it?" I said, pulling a face. "The story ends there? What did he see?"

"Nothing."

"That was bland." I replied. I wasn't invested with his story, but I rather say I was a little disappointed. I was hoping for a grand finale or an encounter with a ghost.

Rashid yawn again, this time stretching like a cat. I glance at the clock which showed 12:05 am. I did not notice that the rain had stopped. The moon was still in hiding behand heavy grey clouds, shy to show itself. We passed a green sign which tells us that there is a RNR stop five kilometers away. I nudged my husband, thinking that he might not notice the sign.

"Honey, look." I said. "There's an RNR stop. Maybe we could stretch our legs a little. We still had not prayed for Isya' have we? Besides I really have to go to the toilet."

My husband nodded. It's a good idea for a rest since we still have hours ahead of us. For those who did not know, RNR stands for 'Rehat dan Rawat' in Malay. It is basically a place where drivers could rest and get some refreshments, or any essential needs, from driving long hours on the road. It is usually scattered, a few miles apart, along the highways. In Malaysia, usually on RnR, there's a toilet, a convenient store, a petrol store and a 'Surau', or a small mosque for the Muslims to pray. RNR can be a large area, with several restaurants and café, and a petrol station. Some, it can be a very small compound, equipped with only a toilet and a Surau, depending on the popularity of the area. This type of RNR, where it is less visited by people, tend to be very spooky when you decided to stop there at night.

I watched as my husband exited the highway to enter the RNR. Although I feel a bit giddy to relief myself from my full bladder, I can't help to ignore the uneasy feeling forming at the back of my throat. You know, the kind of feeling when you think that something bad is about to happen.

My husband headed towards one of the empty parking spots and parked the car head first, right in front of a small building which showed the 'Toilet' sign. Clearly there were no people around, except for us. There were only two buildings, one is the toilet, where we had parked in front of, and another one, is the slightly smaller building beside it which showed the 'Surau' sign. The place was dimly lit from the streetlamps and lights pouring from the two small buildings.

Like all public toilets in Malaysia, it was separated for both genders. I looked at my husband, to see his reaction. He only smiled back at me. "Okay, we'll meet again here after we had done our businesses." He turned off the engine, ushered me to exit the car, and we went our separate ways.

I walked hurriedly towards the toilet as my bladder felt like it was about to burst. As I entered, I was greeted with a very strong odor of urine. My reflex was pulling a pickled face, and was shocked to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face looked like I had swallowed a very sour lemon. I laughed at myself, for my own silliness, and remembering the urine smell, I cursed at those who did not seem to know how to practice hygiene.

I devise a conclusion, that the people who had used the toilet, instead of aiming for the bowl, they seems to prefer to urinate all over the place, hence the overwhelming urine smell. There were five cubicles, and I chose the one nearer to the door. As I went inside the cubicle, suddenly the lights started to flicker. I did not think of anything else at the time, and continued with my business peacefully.

After I emptied my bladder, like all sensible people should do when using a public toilet, I pulled the lever to flush the toilet. As I was donning my trousers, I heard a faint cough. Good, I thought to myself. Someone is here, and I am not alone. I stepped out of the cubicle and proceed to wash my hands at the sink. I glance to my right and noticed a woman wearing a white Baju Kurung with a white shawl over her head. She was standing still at the end of the four sinks, facing the mirror. I couldn't see her face. Though I was a bit weirded out, still I did not think of anything. I was too focused on having my Isya' prayer done and getting out of the somber place.

I exited the toilet and walked straight towards the building next to it, which was the 'Surau'. As I walked towards the building, I noticed that there were still no other cars around, except for ours. Which were still parked opposite the toilet. I suddenly remembered the woman I saw earlier, in the toilet, and wondered whether she is the cleaner who lives on the compound on her night shift to look after the RNR.

Very dedicated, I thought foolishly. As I walked towards the entrance, I could see that the Men's part of the Surau was lit and I knew Rashid must already been inside, praying. The Surau were divided into two partition, so that both men and women can perform their solah separately.The Women's part of the Surau was dark. Very dark. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt shivers down my spine.

I closed the door behind me, hands fumbling as I tried to find the switch to lighten the room. Once the lights were on, the room does not look anything as bad. It was clean and neat. I noticed that the Surau was actually one large room, divided into two using a long curtain to separate between the Men and Women. My husband was still on the other side of the room as the lights were still on.

I went over to the bidet to take my wudhu' and put on my Telekung, which is a type of garment worn by Muslim Women to cover my body during prayer. I shouldn't admit that I was not concentrating to my prayer as my mind kept wondering who that woman was, the one that I saw in the toilet. Then, Rashid's story, about Max's driving alone and hearing voices singing along to his Evanescence Song Bring Me to Life appeared in my head. It was a lame story, but it suddenly bothered me. What if I suddenly heard someone during my prayer?

I heard a clicking sound and noticed that the room was dimmer. My eyes darted towards the long curtain separating the room, and noticed that the lights on the other side of the room had turned off. This indicates that Rashid had already done with his prayers and would wait for me in the car. This means I was completely alone. I panicked for a while. But then I thought of God, that Allah s.w.t is with me and I should not be afraid.

As I was about done with my praying, I heard the creaking sound of the door opening and closing. I knew that somebody had entered the room, and I felt an urge to protect my belonging. From the corner of my eye I could make out a white silhouette. I thought it was probably the woman I saw in the toilet, which I had assume was the cleaner living in the RNR compound.

I felt a little bit of relief, that somebody was in the room with me, that I wasn't alone anymore. When I had reached my last raqaat, I turned to my right first to give my salaam. When I turned to my left, I was absolutely petrified at what I saw. I tried to remain calm and poised as possible. Ending my prayer, I collected my belongings, and quickly walked out of the surau, without taking off the Telekung I was wearing.

As soon as I was out, ignoring the fact that I did not turn off the lights, I dash as fast as I could towards the car. My husband was already inside, with the engine running.The sight of me, still wearing the Telekung made my husband jumped. He locked the door as quickly as he can, which almost made me hysterical, screaming at him to unlock the door. After he realized it was me who was pounding and pleading for the door to open, he quickly unlocked it to let me in.

Once inside, I ordered my husband to drive away as fast as he could. Amid the panic, both of us was quiet throughout our journey home. In the Malay beliefs, it is bad luck if you spoke too soon about a tragedy or anything bad that had just happened. So, normally we would let it sit for a while before telling the story. We reached our house around 5 in the morning.

The next day, I told my husband what had happened the previous night. I mentioned to him the woman I saw standing in the bathroom, which I thought was the cleaner who worked night shifts in the RNR we visited. I told him that when I completed my prayer alone in the Surau, I turned to give my salaam, I saw the same woman from the toilet, sprawled on her belly, like a crocodile. She was sprawled with her chin lay flat on the floor, facing me. Her face was the palest face I had ever saw. And her eyes, were all white, I couldn't see her pupils, like normal people should have. She also had the worst black-eye, like she had been punched and her eyes were bruised.

Until this day, I could not figure out, whether the woman I saw was a ghost or just a random psychotic woman who was not right in her head.

-The End-