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Hear Beyond the Veil

Some say ears out of the five sensory organs are the most sensitive in picking up paranormal signals. This belief may hold some truth as a poll reveals that people have more experience of hearing unexplained voices than seeing spirits. This is the case for me and my mother. We heard something unearthly on several occasions that we can never forget.

Laughter on a dim lane

A lane in shanghai at night

photo: Cody Ellingham

In my final university year, I joined an exchange programme to work as a summer intern in Shanghai.

One evening, my friend and I went to a mansion-turned-restaurant for dinner. It was a time without smartphones and Google Maps, and that was the first time we visited the restaurant, so we could only follow directional signs to get to it.

The former mansion was at the end of a dimly lit lane that was only wide enough for walking two abreast. It was a five-minute walk. As we were slowly leaving the hustle and bustle of the main street behind and expecting the building to show up at any moment, I heard a girl’s clear and light-hearted laughter. It took me by surprise because no one else could be around. The area on the left was surrounded by a chain-link fence, and a small, covered parking lot was on our right. No car was there so my view was not blocked.

I didn’t say anything on the spot because I didn’t want to spook my friend. But when we were seated in the restaurant, my friend asked if I heard something near the parking lot.

“Yes, I did.”

“A girl’s laughter, right?”

A hoo from inside my bookcase

The bookcase in my bedroom

I once worked as a freelance translator. My working hours were mainly at night because clients wanted their jobs done in the morning when they started the day. I worked only at home, a 300-square-foot unit with one tiny bedroom on the 22nd floor of an apartment building. In my bedroom, there was a 190 x 70 x 30 cm plywood bookcase with four doors, a pair on the upper compartment, and the other below. I lived with my mother who slept on a double bunk bed in a corner of the living room.

It was another night I worked until 3 a.m. I returned to my bedroom after a shower and opened the lower left door to get my stuff.

As soon as the door opened, I heard a male voice hoo-ing me from inside the bookcase. I was stunned and confused. I knew it was not possible, but my curiosity overcame me. So, before I could hesitate or stop myself, I had already bent over to take a better look at the inside of the bookcase. No one, no man, not even any body part was there. I then tried to make sense of the hoo. I checked around—no one was walking in the corridor outside my unit, my mother was not snoring, and, of course, no living soul was hanging outside the window in the middle of the night.

I was not too scared, but still, I left my light on for nights.

“It hurts to leave”

the last meal prepared for a dead family member

Photo: Bob Lam Chi Pok

My father died after having chemo. He didn’t have the chance to say his last words.

According to our religious belief, his soul would come home to see us for the last time before he moved on. We had to put his favourite food in the living room, so he could have a satisfying meal before his journey. But most importantly, we must put ourselves to sleep in our beds, or at least not open our eyes when he’s back.

That night, my mother and I went to bed earlier. I woke up after a sound sleep, not feeling anything unusual throughout the night. But my mother had quite a story to tell:

“I could sense it when he came back. I was wide awake but didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t dare to. I didn’t want to scare him away or get emotional if I saw how he looked now. He tucked me in gently. Then he whispered to my ears ‘It hurts to leave’ three times. It’s too vivid to be a dream.”

People can always find an explanation for eerie sounds and voices. But you can’t deny it’s creepy when you hear a voice ask, “Do you want to know what’s under your mattress?” in the dead of night.


Iris Tsui was born and raised in Hong Kong, an east-meets-west metropolitan rich in urban legends, haunted places, and ghost stories. She is a full-time college student, an occasional writer, and a 24/7 ghost story collector. Her favourite pastime is to have a cup of Earl Grey and listen to scary tales shared on the radio. Currently, she lives in Ottawa and is exploring the dark scary side of Canada. Don’t hesitate if you want to tell her your creepy tales. She will be more than happy to share her paranormal experiences and story collection with you in return.