Truth Be Told

By Raden Puteri

When Qishtika Adam started getting strange recurring dreams about her grandmother, she instantly knew the omens were unfavorable. The problem was that her family, especially her father—whose mother she'd dreamt of—simply refused to believe her. One hundred days after the dreams first started, her grandmother whom everybody called Tok Perempuan was found dead in tragic circumstances.

Qishtika had thought that her nightmares would be over but Tok Perempuan’s death presented her with a fresh set of dreams that spoke of things that happened before she was even born.

With her father hostile and dismissive, her mother playing the dutiful wife to the point of being uncooperative, and the rest of her family shunning her, Qishtika was left alone to discover the vile secrets that Tok Perempuan had kept while she was still alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al Dente Books
• Release date: Sep 6, 2016

Book preview

Malay Names and Terms

Abah – father

Abang – elder brother

Alang – uncle—a parent’s third brother

Al-A’raf – Chapter 7 of the Noble Quran

Al-Baqarah – Chapter 2 of the Noble Quran

along – first/eldest child in the family

Al-Falaq – Chapter 113 of the Noble Quran and one of the Four Quls

Al-Kahfi – Chapter 18 of the Noble Quran; The Cave chapter

An-Nas – Chapter 114 of the Noble Quran and one of the Four Quls

asar – afternoon prayers

attar – Arabic perfume

atuk – grandfather

azan – Muslim call to prayer

baju kurung – traditional Malay dress for females

baju melayu – traditional Malay dress for males

batik – traditional, intricately designed hand-drawn or stamp-printed fabric

cik – (in this context) short for makcik, meaning auntie

ciku – sapodilla fruit

doa – supplications to God

Eid ul Adha – Muslim celebration honoring Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son to God

Eid ul Fitri – Muslim celebration marking the end of Ramadan fasting

Fatihah/al-Fatihah – Chapter 1 of the Noble Quran

Fiqh – the study of Islamic jurisprudence

Four Quls – Chapters 109, 112,113, and 114 of the Noble Quran

hajat – prayers for the accomplishment of a particular purpose or need

hajj – pilgrimage to Mecca that all Muslims are expected to take at least once in their lifetime

hajjah – title given to a woman who has completed the hajj

halal – permissible—referring specifically to something that is religiously permissible for Muslims, such as an action, conduct, or food

haram – impermissible/forbidden—the opposite of halal

Hari Raya – Malay name for the Eid ul Fitri celebration

Imam – person who leads prayers in a mosque

Istighfar – the act of saying "astaghfirullah al azim" to seek forgiveness from God

isya’ – nighttime prayers

jinn/jinni – supernatural creature in Islamic belief, known as ‘genie’ in English

Juz Amma – Part 30 (the final part) of the Noble Quran

kakak – elder sister

kemban – a style of wrapping plain or batik fabric to cover the body from the bosom down—usually worn by women while bathing

keris – traditional Malay daggers

Kursi/Ayat al-Kursi – Chapter 2:255 of the Noble Quran

lontong – Malay dish of compressed rice cakes with turmeric-infused, coconut-milk-based gravy

madrasah – Muslim school or university that is often part of a mosque

maghrib – early evening prayers

mamak – Indian Muslim proprietors selling Halal comfort food in Malaysia

nasi lemak – reputedly Malaysia’s national dish, consisting of coconut rice, sambal, and condiments

orang putih – literally ‘white man’, a term used colloquially to refer to white-skinned Westerners, particularly the British

pak cik – term used generically for ‘uncle’ or to respectfully address an elderly male

pak long – eldest uncle—’a parent’s eldest brother

sambal – sauce made from pounded chilies and onions

selawat – invocations to the prophet Muhammad

songkok – traditional Malay headdress for males

subuh – dawn prayers

surau – a building smaller than a mosque used by Muslims in Malaysia for worship and religious instruction

susuk – certain objects, usually gold needles or rings, that are inserted into a person’s body through witchcraft to enhance beauty

syahadah – creed declaring belief in the oneness of God

Syawal – the month after Ramadan

syirik – the forbidden act of associating or equating Allah with any other being

tahlil – prayer session conducted for the recently departed

tarawih – evening prayers performed only during the month of Ramadan

tawhid – the study of the concept of monotheism, or the oneness of God

teh tarik – hot milk tea poured back and forth between two containers to create a thick foam on top

tudung saji – cone- or dome-shaped cover woven from screw-palm leaves or made from plastic that is used to protect food from houseflies

ustaz – male religious teacher

ustazah – female religious teacher

wuduk – ablution, or the ritual washing of parts of the body before Islamic prayers

Yasin/Surah Yasin – Chapter 36 of the Noble Quran

Zikir – the act of remembering Allah through the utterance of words of praise or prayers like Allahu Akbar

Zuhur – midday prayers

CHAPTER 1

HER LIPS MOVED, mouthing the same supplication over and over. She silently whispered her prayers, while her fingers deftly counted the repetitions. Fatigue gripped her body, but sleep would not come. She rolled restlessly on the bed, her lawyer’s mind suffocated by so many questions that a normal, reasonable person would deem nonsensical and illogical. But she was far from normal.

Her name was Qishtika, and she was the firstborn in her family. Nine other siblings followed her. Her porcelain-white skin was the natural result of her mixed Malay Chinese heritage. Her schoolgirl features belied her actual twentysomething years.

Ever since she was a child, Qishtika had always been different from the rest of her horde of siblings. Her deep brown eyes ‘saw’ things before they happened. Constantly. At night, bizarre dreams plagued her slumber.

Dreams that were impossible to comprehend but that always materialized into reality.

Dreams that functioned as both a sign and a warning to be on guard.

So far, not one of those signs had been wrong. Every single dream had become reality. Qishtika had endured this life for more than twenty years. She genuinely feared that these experiences would eventually affect her health. Sighing at her heavy burden, she rolled over again.

Of late, she’d been extrememly pensive, staring into space for long periods of time. A litany of troubles preyed upon her mind, none more constantly than the dreams that had been haunting her night after night recently.

Why?

The shadow of a human with changing faces kept appearing in those dreams. In her waking moments, she felt as if she were being watched.

Please don’t tell me that thing is searching for a new master.

The thought made her body shiver with fright.

She stared at the ceiling of her well-appointed five-star hotel room with rounded eyes. It was almost midnight, but the sky was bright. Despite her wakefulness, she was exhausted from an entire day of pretending to be part of the perfect family. Tomorrow would be another important day—the norm of every family member breakfasting together must be observed. She knew she needed rest and tried to coax her sad, tired eyes closed, but still she could not fall asleep.

Didn’t anybody else see what I saw? She thought back to earlier in the day at the hospital, and how every time she felt something pass by her, she would turn to look at the rest of her family. Not one of them showed any reaction. She was disappointed, but not surprised.

Mama, did you see the person who just walked past us? she had asked her mother, as they sat in the waiting area, of the hospital’s forensic unit.

What person? Her mother, Ameera, answered her question with one of her own.

Qishtika nodded at her like an enthusiastic fool.

I haven’t seen anyone walk by, Ameera confirmed.

There was someone. A man dressed in black went into that room, Qishtika insisted, pointing to a door directly opposite of where they sat.

Ameera lifted her head and looked toward the door. She blinked a few times, reading and rereading the word written on it.

Morgue.

Maybe it was the doctor. Ameera’s reply was brief but her agitation was obvious.

Qishtika shook her head. Mama, doctors don’t wear black coats. Aren’t all doctors’ coats white? ’She sounded like a curious preschooler.

Ameera let out a snort, a deliberately loud exhale of breath that clearly said that she was not pleased with where this conversation was heading.

Qishtika shut her mouth and stared ahead silently. There was no point arguing with her mother, or even with her father and siblings for that matter. She knew that they would never agree with her.

Why is it that, like always, I am the only one who sees? Why must it only be me?

* * *

AS SHE LAY limply on the soft hotel bed, memories of the last three months came flooding back to her, nights filled with terrifying dreams that were difficult for Qishtika, a weak-spirited girl who frightened easily, to endure.

Maybe those dreams had some connection with what happened this morning? The death of Tok Perempuan.

Her grandmother on her father’s side had died—a death that Qishtika had warned her family of three months before.

And now, she was starting to see new things.

The human face of a person who has died morphing into the face of an animal may sound impossible for any right-minded person to believe. A headless human walking around, smoking a cigarette, may sound too mystical. But these beings truly exist! All of them share this world with us. They can see us, but very few of us—by God’s grace—can see them.

And Qishtika could. She saw them all the time.

That was what was preying upon her mind. She debated with herself. It would have been so easy to unravel this problem if only she could gain the trust of her family.

But that would be a very big if.

Without realizing, tears had started to fill her eyes.

Frame by frame, those memories from three months ago replayed in her mind. More than once, Qishtika had called her mother to tell her of the dreams. Dreams that terrified her. Dreams that felt as if they truly happened to her in real life.

The question was: Why was she the only one, among her siblings, who was haunted by these dreams?

CHAPTER 2

TOO MANY TIMES, Mama. And that same grave was in every single dream. Mama, you must tell Abah. At the very least, get him to call his mother. You never know when these dreams are actually signs, Qishtika spoke softly over the phone, trying to persuade her forty-five-year-old mother to act.

It’s only a dream, Qish. Everybody dreams while they’re sleeping.

This is not just any dream, Mama, she insisted, trying to stem her growing annoyance. She knew that her mother was deliberately trying to deny the truth of her dreams. It had happened too many times before. Past experiences had proven that her family wouldn’t believe the warnings from her dreams until the events actually occurred before their eyes.

By then, it was too late.

What do you mean? Ameera asked, confused.

You must tell Abah that maybe Tok Perempuan is about to die

"Ish, you’re being ridiculous, Qish. The old lady is back in the village, healthy and well. Your father just spoke to her yesterday."

That was yesterday, Mama. Anything can happen in the blink of an eye. And we need to warn her. Dreams that we get today don’t necessarily become real immediately, Qishtika replied spiritedly.

Why are you being so adamant?

I have to be, because I’m certain that the grave I dreamt of will become Tok Perempuan’s grave, Mama. This is an important sign!

Ameera lapsed into silence as she contemplated the dilemma her daughter was facing, and her own. It was true that Qishtika was different from all her other children. Before, when Ameera’s father-in-law was approaching his end, it was Qishtika who had forewarned the family of his impending death. Every time Qishtika had received similar signs, things had happened. Ameera felt helpless. She was genuinely unsure of what to do. Should she fulfill her daughter’s request or simply ignore it?

Her daughter’s dreams, her words about graves and faces, were impossible to comprehend. How could she even begin to explain them’? If she were to simply tell her husband exactly what Qishtika had told her, he would accuse them of slander; he had never accepted the fact that his mother had issues. But they had no intention of bad-mouthing the old lady. How could she deliver this message without making her husband angry with her?

On the other end of the line, Qishtika waited for her mother’s reply. She had been standing the whole time and sat now, restlessly.

How do you know that the grave you dreamt of is Tok Perempuan’s grave? Ameera asked finally.

Frustrated, Qishtika shook her head several times. That’s not important, Mama. The warning has been given. What’s wrong with being prepared?

You sound so sure, Ameera commented sharply.

"Mama, don’t we all have intuition? And my intuition tells me that the grave from my dream is Tok Perempuan’s grave."

"Qish, dreaming of a grave doesn’t necessarily mean that somebody’s going to die, you know? Maybe the dream is just to remind you about death. Every living thing will die one day."

I know that, but this dream is different, Mama. Qishtika said, curling the telephone cord around her finger. She blinked several times, hoping to remove the image of the grave that seemed to be pasted to the insides of her eyelids.

Don’t you think that you’re just assuming that your grandmother ’is going to die, just because you saw a grave and she’s the oldest one in the family? Ameera reasoned.

Qishtika acknowledged her mother’s words with a short humph. She knew that a lecture was coming. She heard a scraping sound and could picture her mother pulling a chair up to the phone, sitting down before launching into her lecture. In spite of herself, she felt her lips form a smile when she heard the first words flow through the receiver. Her mother wouldn’t be her mother if she didn’t nag.

"In this world, death will come no matter what age you are, you know? People who are perfectly healthy will die if their time has come. You are just having bad dreams. Enough. My advice to you is just to ignore them. Zikir—remember Allah more. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. Dreams like this are quite normal. Dreams of death, marriage, promotions at work, having children, they’re all just ‘games of slumber.’ No need to bother about them anymore," Ameera said in one long breath.

But even as Ameera brushed aside Qishtika’s ill thoughts, a small part of her silently believed her daughter’s intuition. Her daughter could not be wrong. She had proven time and time again how sharp and accurate her intuition was. But what could she do to show her family that her daughter was right? Ameera fought with herself.

Don’t you want to try, Mama? Qishtika attempted.

Try what?

Persuade Abah, Qishtika said carefully.

Persuade him how, exactly? You act as if you don’t know how your father is.

Just tell him that I saw Tok Perempuan’s grave and her face had changed…into a ghost.

My God, Qish! Watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that. If your father heard…

Qishtika felt a tinge of worry. Her mother was right. Abah would flip if he heard what she just said. But she didn’t want to give up.

That’s the problem with everybody. When I give a warning, nobody wants to listen. Then when things really happen, everybody comes looking for me, she complained. She was getting angry now.

* * *

QISHTIKA STILL REMEMBERED the time when Tok Jantan, her late grandfather, was nearing his end. The new school term had just begun. They’d spent the long school vacation in Johor with her father’s parents, and as they were getting ready to leave their house to head home for the new term, Qishtika had warned her father. She remembered very well how her father had dismissed her words out of hand. He’d even yelled at her in front of Tok Jantan, her mother, and her siblings. She had never forgotten that particular episode, how her heart was ripped to shreds by the harshness of his words.

The pain was excruciating.

I don’t want to go home, Abah, Qishtika had said between sobs, her little body racked with sadness. I want to stay with Tok Jantan. In three days, he will be gone.

Her father had roared like a madman. "You say my father is about to die? he’d asked with bulging eyes. What, do you think you’re God now? You think that you can know when it’s time for people to die?"

Qishtika’s hands had trembled as she packed her clothes into her suitcase, her chest heaving with uncontrollable sobs. But she had trained herself to be stubborn and hardheaded because she knew that if she gave in she would feel guilty when her visions eventually become reality.

I want to stay with Tok Jantan, she continued to cry. Her small frame shook. I don’t want to go back, she said repeatedly. She truly did not want to go. She didn’t want to leave her grandfather.

What do you need to stay here for? Tok Perempuan will take care of Tok Jantan, her father countered.

Tok Jantan need not be sad if I’m here. I will recite Quranic verses for him when he can’t speak anymore, Qishtika answered. That had been her real intention. The dream that she’d had of Tok Jantan’s death a few days before was so sad. Tok Jantan died alone on a thin mattress spread out in the living room, while Tok Perempuan laughed heartily.

Enough! Don’t talk so much. When I say ‘we are going home’ it means ‘we are going home’! That was how it always ended with her father, until whatever Qishtika feared most eventually came to pass.

One day after they returned home, Tok Jantan started showing signs that he was about to pass. He could no longer take in food. He slowly started losing mobility, and by the third day he could not move at all. That third day was the day of his death. In the morning, Abah called Tok Perempuan as usual to ask about Tok Jantan. She told him that Tok Jantan was too weak and no longer wanted to eat. He had to be carried to the toilet, and she complained that she was not strong enough to support him every time he needed to relieve himself or wash for prayers.

On that same morning, Qishtika went to school with a heavy heart. That whole day in class, her body was present, but her mind wandered, eventually eliciting a reprimand from her teacher. Tok Jantan’s face seemed to be pasted inside her eyelids. It went on like that until the last bell finally rang, signaling it was time to go home.

When she got home, her father shocked with of the news of Tok Jantan’s weakened state. As usual, she voiced her opinion.

Abah, let’s go back to Johor now. There’s still time to see Tok Jantan.

We’ll go back on the weekend, was her father’s short reply.

"We can’t, Abah. The weekend will be too late. We must arrive in Johor before maghrib. Let’s leave right now."

Are you out of your mind? Your brothers are still in school.

Pick them up. Let’s pack whatever’s necessary and go see Tok Jantan now, Qishtika pushed. If you don’t get the chance to see Tok Jantan, you’ll regret it.

Don’t be ridiculous. Tok Perempuan is there.

What use is her being there? She’s not going to recite the Quran to lessen his pain, said Qishtika, without thinking about the consequences her words might bring. I don’t know if Tok Perempuan even knows the Quran. I’ve never even seen her recite anything from it, she added forcefully.

Go to your room, her father instructed. Who are you to order me around? Who is the elder here, you or me? he yelled after her as she made her way to her room.

At exactly 8:15 p.m. that night, while their family was having dinner, the house phone rang, bringing the news of Tok Jantan’s passing. It was Tok Perempuan who called. Qishtika was not shocked; she had already known this was going to happen and warned her father. But the look of regret on her father’s face caused her even more heartache. If he had listened to her, they would probably have been by Tok Jantan’s side in his last moments. The tears streamed continuously down her face reflected her deep frustration that her father, mother, and the rest of the family had all disregarded the special ability that God had granted her.

* * *

AMEERA FELT GUILTY. Circumstances did not permit her to side with her daughter. She didn’t want her husband to accuse her of slandering her own mother-in-law, even if she was only trying to speak the truth. Adam’s behavior wasn’t like that of other people’s husbands. He wasn’t someone you could talk to, especially if his mother was the topic of conversation.

Ameera’s married life was painful enough, and she did not need to add salt to existing wounds. There was also no need for her children to have to share the pain and heartache she’d been living with for more than thirty years in a marriage full of lies.

The tortured memories of her life’s journey were still fresh. She’d had little choice but to leave the decision of which man she would marry to her mother and grandmother. And she had accepted Adam’s proposal against her will—the result of his mother’s malevolence in casting some kind of spell upon her that made her unable to refuse, even though she felt that she was still too young to marry. No one had told her, of course, that she was under a spell, but that was what her heart whispered on her engagement day. It wasn’t until much later, in the last days before her grandmother died, that she found out the truth.

Whatever ability Qishtika possessed was not unknown in her family. Ameera’s grandmother had also possessed the special ability to see beyond the vision of a normal person. It was her grandmother who told her that Adam’s mother had cast the spell and tried to make her become submissive. Ameera never shared her grandmother’s words with her husband, who did not like to discuss matters pertaining to his beloved mother. Even so, Ameera did what she could to be rid of her mother-in-law’s influence. She learned to keep her distance from her. Slowly, she tried to ignore the old lady’s presence. It always pained her to see her husband acquiesce to his mother’s orders and commands without so much as a question. He was like a dog on a leash, always obeying. Ameera was despondent.

* * *

MAMA, IF THE same dreams disturb us every night, aren’t those dreams the kind that bring signs? Qishtika solicited her mother’s opinion.

Maybe, but it’s not necessarily a sign, answered Ameera shortly.

Do you still remember the advice you gave to me once before?

Which advice was that? asked Ameera, scratching her head, which didn’t itch.

Your advice when I was little. You said that before we go to bed, we have to recite al-Fatihah, Ayat al-Kursi, and the Four Qul. If anything bad was going to happen, we’d wake up, answered Qishtika.

Oh, that.

Yeah, remember?

I remember. What about it? Is anything wrong?

Nothing wrong. I just wanted to tell you that I have always practiced that, even to this day.

That’s good. It’s good that you make a practice of reading Quranic verses.

So, now do you believe my dreams? asked Qishtika. She was already feeling uncomfortable. What’s the use of talking if Mama refuses to believe me? It’s just wasting time.

I do want to believe, child, but— Ameera started but stopped abruptly. The words that she wanted to say disappeared. She was afraid that those words might hurt her daughter.

By my count, this is the fourteenth time that I’ve dreamt of the same thing. The only difference is that, every night, the grave becomes clearer and closer than before. It’s very scary, Mama, said Qishtika, who still did not want to give up, still did not want to stop expressing her thoughts. It saddened her to think of how her family kept belittling her ability to see the unseen and refusing to believe in her portentous dreams.

Those are just bad dreams. I too had the same kind of dreams when I was younger. Nothing ever happened, said Ameera. Again, she dismissed her daughter’s words.

Mama, you really don’t have anything else to say, do you? That’s why you keep saying ‘bad dreams’ over and over.

Whatever hopes Qishtika had that this time would be different vanished instantly when she heard her mother’s words. She felt hurt too. But what should she be feeling hurt for? Her dreams were obviously out of reach for the normal human mind, but she knew in her heart that there was hidden meaning behind them.

"Maybe the dreams that you had were just dreams, Mama, but my dreams are different."

What is so different? Why don’t you finish telling me about them first, Ameera suggested.

I dreamt of myself at a graveyard, and it was as if I were attending a funeral. There were a lot of people around. Voices of people talking, screaming, and wailing all filled the air at the same time—

"Hah, Ameera cut her daughter off. Here you go with your ridiculous stories."

Qishtika drew a deep breath and let her growing anger subside. Come on, weren’t you the one who ask me to tell you about it? Why don’t you listen first?

Okay…okay…

If you were at this graveyard, your head would definitely be spinning from listening to all the voices seeking attention. From afar, I could see a freshly dug grave. The place was very scary and dark, and it smelled horrible, Ma. Qishtika tried to describe her dream as clearly as possible. Around the grave, there were other graves that were equally dark and scary. I don’t know why, but in the dream, my heart told me that all those graves belonged to people who weren’t exactly decent when they were alive—

Don’t think you are so clever to judge people, her mother opined.

This is what I hate, Qishtika countered.

What?

You keep cutting me off. Just let me finish my story first, Qishtika grumbled, which elicited a small laugh from her mother.

Okay…okay. Continue. I’m listening.

Coming from those nearby graves were voices screaming for help at the top of their lungs. They were very loud. Echoing all around. The problem was that I couldn’t see exactly where the voices were coming from. But in the empty grave, a fierce fire was burning. Weirdly, the fire was there one second and gone the next.

Telling her mother about the dreams made the hairs on her arms stand at attention. Qishtika was certain that if her mother were in her place, she would surely feel the creepiness of the surroundings.

Is that all? asked Ameera, who sounded bored. She had yet to feel the horror of the most frightful moments in the dream.

I haven’t finished yet, Ma. You know what happened next? Those empty graves suddenly became filled with water.

How did that happen? I thought you said there was fire inside.

Initially, there was fire. Then there was some kind of foul-smelling water. The insides became slimy and stinky. And all the graves were dark and creepy.

"Well, it is a dream. You can’t simply switch on some streetlights, can you?" Ameera asked sarcastically.

Qishtika felt herself being mocked but let it pass. Maybe the graves were already dark and creepy to begin with. What do you think, Mama?

"Mmm…" Ameera replied, noncommittal. She didn’t really know what to say. There were many things that her daughter did not know about Tok Perempuan. There was a time when Qishtika was ill for months. They referred her to countless doctors but none could cure her. Her condition not only became worse, but also took a strange turn as time went by. This went on until the doctor who had been treating her for months concluded that she was afflicted with some mysterious sickness that he’d never seen before. It was at that point that Ameera was forced to believe in these hocus-pocus things.

But when Qishtika spoke of the suffering that she had to endure from being disturbed by these dreams, Ameera did not know how to react. Is it not enough that she has already suffered so much? she thought.

I guess it’s just like humans. For people who have pure hearts, their faces will always glow, even if they aren’t particularly handsome or beautiful. But for those who are evil and heartless, we can tell from afar that they are bad. Their faces won’t have that kind of radiance. Only gloom.

Don’t be too clever with your conclusions, Qish, Ameera warned. That made Qishtika chuckle. She had no idea how troubled her mother felt.

I’m just speaking from experience, Ma. You just refuse to admit that my dreams contain signs.

"You’re the one who’s so quick to make assumptions about the meaning of your dreams, and you’re blaming me?"

I’m not making assumptions, Ma. I’m using my intuition. I’m telling you what those graves looked like. And if you want to blame it on the lack of lights, you should know that there were plenty of streetlights near that graveyard, Qishtika countered. The whole dream was still fresh before her eyes.

Ameera cleared her throat and swallowed. She couldn’t say that her daughter was wrong, as she didn’t have any experience and certainly didn’t know how dead people were like in their graves. Now it was her turn to feel mocked. She had taken a dig at her daughter, and now she was getting it back. Well, that’s the problem with being sarcastic, Ameera thought. Even when people aren’t mocking you, you feel like there are.

In the dream, Qishtika continued, the streetlights were brightly lit. But the graveyard was dark, as if the light from outside wasn’t able to penetrate through to the graveyard area. I walked for a long time, until my feet were tired, she explained, playing with her feet, which dangled down from the reclining chair in her bedroom.

And then what? Ameera was already feeling weary from listening to her daughter’s story. She massaged her tired legs.

Then I disappeared for a while. Maybe because the graveyard was so dark. But somehow I could still see clearly, even though it was pitch-dark. Only God knows how. There was silence. Ameera gave no response to this. Mama, are you still listening? Qishtika asked, to make sure her mother was still on the line.

Yes, I’m listening. You finish your story first, she said, as her hands continued to move up and down her numb legs.

I thought you weren’t listening. You’ve been so quiet.

You asked me to be quiet and try to understand your mystical story. Now when I keep quiet, you get worried, Ameera complained. Qishtika laughed dryly.

"Then, somehow, I found myself in the grave. Not standing beside it, Ma. I felt like my body was actually in the pit."

Your story is not making any sense, Qish.

Of course it sounds like nonsense, but you must hear it until the end.

"Mmm…"

My feet felt swollen, and I was stuck in that dark pit. There were a lot of bones in there. They were heaped on my body, and I couldn’t move because I was wedged in that narrow hole.

That bad? Ameera asked, showing some interest in her story for the first time. Qishtika smiled to herself.

It was really narrow in there. The stench of the bones made it difficult to breathe. It was so scary, Ma. I don’t know how, but those bones moved around and touched my cheeks.

"Then what? Ish, you’re making me squeamish," Ameera reacted. She could almost feel the bones touching her own face. She had listened to religious sermons about punishment in the realm of the dead, but she had never imagined how narrow a grave could be.

The weight on my body became heavier. From the inside, I could feel burning embers being tossed into the grave. And before the grave was filled with earth, I saw many horrible creatures from inside the hole.

Who shovelled the earth?

I’m not sure…

The creatures you mentioned, what were those?

Strange beings. They were like humans, only they weren’t. I’ve never seen them before. One had a trunk like an elephant. Another had a pig’s head. There was even one who had the face of a dog. And the weirdest and most nonsensical thing was—

Qishtika hadn’t finished her sentence when Ameera cut in. What was so weird? she asked, as if in disbelief.

It was really weird, Qishtika replied.

Yes, weird. But what…?

The scariest thing was, the last face that I saw was the face of Tok Perempuan grinning at me, Qishtika said. She rubbed the back of her neck.

"Huh? You must be kidding!"

I’m not kidding. Why would I lie to you? I have nothing to gain.

You saw it clearly?

Clear as day. I felt really angry. I felt like if I could stab her to death in the dream, I would have.

Why would you want to stab Tok Perempuan?

Because, in the dream, I felt like I hated her so much. Every one of those creatures threw sticks into the grave. Only Tok Perempuan poured water.

Water?

Yeah. She poured lots and lots of water into the grave until it became flooded, Qishtika replied, nodding her head even though her mother could not see her physical reaction. The weird thing was, water usually puts out fire, right?

Yes, of course water puts out fire. An elementary school kid would know a basic thing like that.

But not when Tok Perempuan poured the water from the beaker that she was holding. The more she poured, the more the fire raged, Qishtika explained enthusiastically.

So weird! Ameera exclaimed.

I know this is all a dream, and it doesn’t seem to make sense, but while I was dreaming it, it felt so real, as if it was really happening, Mama.

Ameera puckered her brows, trying to make sense of it all. What must that have felt like for her daughter? You felt the water touch your skin in your sleep, Qish?

I felt it all, Ma. The pain on my hand when the sharp end of the sticks pricked me, the burning sensation when the fire licked me. It was all so real.

"Mmm, what is it with that grave? I don’t understand; how you could end up in there?" Ameera asked. She felt her heart start to race, even though she was finding it hard to believe what she had just heard.

She knew that, among all her children, only Qishtika was extraordinary. Ever since she was a little girl, Qishtika was the only one who would get these ominous dreams. Still, because she didn’t want to bother especially about problems relating to her mother-in-law, she’d rather not get involved. In any case, she was all too familiar with her husband’s character, who had a quick temper when it came to discussing matters like this. So it was best to just listen and let it go.

I really don’t know how. I just saw myself in there but, at that moment, my heart told me that the grave wasn’t for me, and it isn’t me who’s meant to die.

If you’re not the one who is supposed to die, how come you ended up in the grave?

Qishtika chuckled. There was nothing funny, but she did anyway. I was just trying it out, Ma, she replied, still snickering.

Of all the things to try out, you chose a grave? Ameera asked in a regretful tone.

Sounds like a crazy thing to do, right? But at that moment, it was like I wanted to know what it felt like to be inside that grave, she explained.

"It doesn’t sound crazy, it is crazy! Ameera commented. Even in dreams, you like to do stupid things."

Qishtika could sense her mother’s anger. Wasn’t it just a dream? Everything makes sense in dreams, Ma. Only after waking up, I realized that it was a pretty stupid thing to do.

Good that you realized it. Ameera retorted. It was her turn to laugh a little. She didn’t want things to be too tense.

The scary thing was, I heard a number of men’s voices talking. Some were whispering, like they were trying to conceal something.

Whose voices?

I don’t know. Maybe it was the people with the elephant, pig, and dog heads. Maybe they were the graveyard’s caretakers. I couldn’t be sure exactly. What I do know is that, afterwards, I felt as if the pit had been completely filled with earth.

Where were you then? Ameera asked. While it was undeniable that her daughter’s dream did not make sense, there was no harm in her trying to understand it.

I was still in the grave, alone. I was so scared because they’d buried me alive. It was horrifying.

I can imagine it was. If it were me, I would’ve passed out immediately.

Qishtika laughed loudly at that comment.

I still remember, I felt my chest heaving. My heart was racing. It was like somebody had clamped my nose with a clothespin and stuffed me in an airtight container. It was difficult to breathe. Only God knows how it felt.

"Mmm…"

But strangely, even though I was inside the grave, I could still hear the voices of those men who were filling up the grave from above.

Did any of the voices sound familiar?

"No, but I heard somebody reciting the talkin, the prayer for the dead, but he did not mention my name. He said the name Kalsom Binti Puteh."

Are you for real, Qishtika? Ameera snapped. Don’t play around. If you father hears of this, he’ll lynch you.

Isn’t that Tok Perempuan’s name, Ma?

"Yes, it is her name, but don’t