EERIE AND SCARY TRAIL HOME

Brother cycled me home

In my first year at RI, I was scared to walk home alone. By the time I disembarked from the bus, it was night. As mentioned on my earlier blog, I needed to walk through the pitch dark isolated stretch of walking trail. Without fail, my elder brother Bobby would be waiting for me at the community centre.

I sat on the bicycle bar between the steering handle and him. Without any lighting, with almost animal instincts, he cycled and meandered through the trail, avoiding potholes and stones while ignoring the pursuing dogs. The wheels rolled through, breaking the silence of the night with cracking sound of leaves and twigs on the trail. Inevitably, I could feel the warm breath over my head as he exerted energy riding up the slope. Definitely, I felt a sense of complete security. I needn’t have to think of the unimaginable.

He did this for my entire sec 1. By the time I was in sec 2, I had gained enough confidence and have learned to be fearless like him. Eventually I had to make my own way home.

Fear of the Supernatural

But when I was cycling alone on my own and in the dark, the eerie feeling sank in. The squeaky noises from the insects and movement of the trees and leaves, wild imagination invariably crept in. Inevitably the mind suddenly becomes obsessed with ghosts and the supernatural. Sometimes, I imagined white figure with long black hairs with tongue sticking out blocking my way and a dead body lying on the trail. Honestly, I was scared but just kept going till I saw the light from my house. I had no plan or strategy for such an encounter if it ever happen. I only hope it won’t.


Fear of the Mad Man and Mad Woman

Occasionally, the walking trail was used by two schizophrenics. One was young man in his 20s. He normally walked around with no shirt. He was tanned and tall with good built. But if you look at his face, the eyes were dazed and I found it very scary. He gave the impression he was ready to strangle you anytime. Whenever you walk past him, without fail you got goose pimples and chill, and the fear just flowed through your body. I was lucky not to encounter him at night.

There was another old lady. Apparently she lost her son and gone mad. Her wrinkled face and the gaze from her white eyes were terrifying. She would stop abruptly anywhere, talking to herself or just scold passer-bys, using language hard to understand. People said she was possessed. She always wore a white cloth over her head instead of a hat. She carried two baskets using a traditional bamboo pole over her shoulders. Her baskets were normally empty. My greatest fear was to encounter her at night on this trail. If it did, I would probably faint. However, I was very glad this nocturnal encounter did not happen.

The lesser fear would be encountering a robber along the way. I had this fear as my house was robbed when I was in P6. I can never forget the masked men with his bronze dagger guarding us while they ransacked my house.

As I grew older, I learned to adapt and overcome this lingering fear whenever I used this trail. At times it just creeps back but I had no choice; I need to live a normal life that necessitates me to come home late at night. I used this trail till I own a car in 1977, when I was 23 years old.



.........