// Personal Incident Archives

Personal

3 INCIDENT LOGS ARCHIVED // CHILDHOOD & WITNESS ACCOUNTS

Some experiences stay buried for years before they are spoken about again. Strange encounters during childhood. Unexplained sounds inside familiar homes. Moments that felt insignificant at the time — until they were remembered later with unsettling clarity.

TRANSMISSION: PERSONAL ENCOUNTERS

LOCATION: REDACTED

            
            SIGNAL UNSTABLE
          

⚠ WARNING: THESE EVENTS PREDATE THE RIDING LOGS. THEY ARE THE REASON FOR THEM.

// CLASSIFIED BRIEFING — UNX-PERSONAL

You are entering the Personal Archive.

Before the bikes. Before the tours. Before Malaysia and Thailand and the night rides — there were things that happened closer to home. Childhood things. House things.

This is where it started. Not on a dark road at 2am, but in a house in Singapore, before the rider knew he was going to become one.

Some of these have never been written down before. There may be a reason for that. Read carefully.

        
        3 LOGS AVAILABLE — SELECT TO ENTER
      

INCIDENT TYPE: VISUAL ENCOUNTER

// Log PERSONAL-001 Declassified

The First Time I Saw Something

I was around six years old. High fever. Midnight. And an old woman standing near the kitchen who wasn't supposed to be there — and who disappeared the moment my mother switched the lights on properly.

Childhood Sighting Fever Home

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INCIDENT TYPE: COHABITATION

// Log PERSONAL-002 Declassified

The House With The Little Ghosts

The owner casually mentioned he took care of little ghosts. My mother told me years later that I used to play with them when I was home alone. I have almost no memory of it.

Childhood Rental House Spirits Personal

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INCIDENT TYPE: ACTIVE INTERFERENCE

// Log PERSONAL-003 Declassified

Maybe Some Stories Don't Want To Be Written

There's something I noticed over the years. Every time I seriously try to write down the unexplained things I've seen or felt, something stops me. I'm not joking.

Writing Log Late Night Interference Personal

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INCIDENT TYPE: ████████

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◄ Return to Unexplained Archive

Personal Log #001

The First Time I Saw Something

// SR-PERSONAL-001 // Childhood // First Sighting

The Night It Started

My first unexplained experience happened when I was around six years old. At that age, I didn't even fully understand what fear was yet. I only knew something felt terribly wrong. That night, I was running a very high fever. Back then, medicine wasn't as instant as now — no quick syrup solving everything in minutes. I just lay in bed feeling extremely weak and uncomfortable. Sometime around midnight, I suddenly woke up.

What I Woke Up To

The first thing I noticed was the sound. A loud, high-pitched ringing. Not normal ringing. Sharp. Piercing. Continuous. The kind that makes your ears feel pressured from inside.

. . .

Then I opened my eyes. I remember seeing bright lights everywhere. That part still confuses me today — because I knew it was nighttime. But the whole house looked brightly lit. Not normal room lighting. Everything strangely pale and overexposed.

I looked for my parents. Couldn't find them.

. . .

Then I noticed someone standing near the kitchen area. An old woman. At first glance, she didn't look aggressive. But even as a child, every instinct inside me immediately said: be careful.

Not the feeling where something looks scary. The feeling where something is simply wrong in a way your body recognises before your mind does.

. . .

I stared at her while the ringing in my ears kept getting louder. The strange pale light kept pressing down around everything. And somehow, even at six years old, I knew she wasn't supposed to be there.

I started screaming.

My mother rushed out. The moment she switched on the room lights properly, the old woman was gone. The strange brightness instantly became ordinary household light. The ringing in my ears continued for a while longer.

Whether It Was Real

Of course, as a child with a high fever, it could easily be dismissed as delirium. Fever hallucination. Exhaustion mixing dreams with reality. Those are all reasonable explanations. But till today, decades later, I still remember that night with unusual clarity. The lights. The ringing. The feeling. And especially the instinctive dread I felt when I saw that old woman standing silently in the kitchen — not doing anything, not moving. Just there.

Because that night became the beginning of something that followed me for years afterward. After it, I started noticing more things. Not all the time. Not always clearly. But enough that I eventually stopped dismissing every strange experience as coincidence.

And sometimes, even now, I still wonder — did the fever cause me to imagine something? Or did the fever simply lower whatever boundary usually keeps certain things out of sight?

// SIGNAL RECORDED: High fever. Midnight. Unknown figure in kitchen — old woman, standing still. Anomalous whole-house brightness. High-pitched ringing in ears. Figure disappeared immediately upon room lights being switched on. Ringing persisted briefly afterward. First of many subsequent encounters.

Additional Field Notes: The First Time I Saw Something

Log Classification: Personal / Childhood Encounter / First Sighting

[HIGH FEVER AND PERCEPTION] High fever in children is associated with hallucinations — but the specific details here (anomalous whole-house brightness, sustained tinnitus, instinctive rather than visual fear, immediate disappearance upon normal light) are not consistent with standard fever hallucination patterns, which tend to be fragmented rather than specific and structured.

[THE RINGING] A sustained, high-pitched tone accompanying the sighting — and persisting after — appears in multiple accounts of unexplained visual encounters. Not consistently explained by fever-related auditory effects alone.

[FIRST ENCOUNTER AS OPENING] Many accounts of long-term sensitivity trace back to a specific childhood incident. This one is notable for its clarity decades later, and for the pattern of experiences that followed.

INCIDENT ASSESSMENT

Age at incident: ~6 years old
Context: High fever, midnight
Figure: Old woman, kitchen, standing still — disappeared on normal light
Classification: First encounter — followed by years of subsequent sensitivity

Personal Log #002

The House With The Little Ghosts

The owner casually mentioned he took care of little ghosts. My mother told me years later that I used to play with them when I was home alone. I have almost no memory of it. Only the offerings I placed every day — KitKats and Vitagen — like it was the most normal thing in the world.

// SR-PERSONAL-002 // Childhood // Rental House

The Memory That Won't Come Back

There's one childhood memory I can never fully recall. Not because it's blurry. Because most of it feels missing. Back when I was around seven or eight years old, my family moved frequently between rental houses — our family business operated on short contracts, so shifting between places became normal. But there was one particular rental house that always stayed at the back of my mind. Not because of the house itself. Because of what the owner casually told my parents when we moved in. He said he took care of little ghosts. Back then, hearing adults say strange things wasn't uncommon. So as a child, I didn't think much about it at the time.

What My Mother Told Me

What unsettles me today is what my mother told me years afterward.

Apparently, whenever I was home alone in that house, I would play with them.

. . .

Till today, I honestly cannot remember what that means. No faces. No conversations. No visual memories. Nothing. Almost like that entire part of my childhood was locked away somewhere I can no longer reach.

. . .

The only thing I still remember clearly — was the instruction.

Every day, I was told to place KitKats and Vitagen somewhere inside the house.

And strangely, I never questioned it.

To me back then, it felt completely normal. Almost routine. Like feeding fish or watering plants. Just: put the snacks there. And I would do it, obediently, without any fear or hesitation.

What Actually Disturbs Me Now

That's the disturbing part when I think back on it today. Not the ghost story itself. But how natural the entire situation felt to a child. No fear. No panic. No feeling that anything was wrong. Just acceptance — as if the arrangement had always existed and I had simply been told my part in it.

Till today, I still don't know whether the owner genuinely believed something was living in that house, whether my childhood imagination created invisible companions, or whether the adults around me unknowingly shaped my memories into something they weren't.

But one detail quietly disturbs me every time I think about it. I cannot remember the playing at all. Not a single image. Not a single moment. Only the offerings. KitKats and Vitagen. Every single day. And the older I get, the stranger that missing memory feels — like something was deliberately taken out of reach, and the only proof it existed is the gap it left behind.

// SIGNAL RECORDED: Childhood residence with confirmed occupant belief in resident spirits. Rider reportedly interacted with them — no memory of interactions retained. Daily offerings placed without fear or resistance. Memory of the "playing" entirely absent. Only the ritual remains.

Additional Field Notes: The House With The Little Ghosts

Log Classification: Personal / Childhood / Selective Memory Loss

[KUMAN THONG AND CHILD SPIRITS] The practice of taking care of little ghosts — specifically child spirits — exists across traditional belief systems in Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand. Offerings of food and snacks are standard. The casualness with which the owner mentioned it, and the immediate integration of the practice into the child's routine, is consistent with households where this is simply a normal part of the living arrangement.

[SELECTIVE MEMORY ABSENCE] Complete inability to recall specific interactions while clearly retaining surrounding details — the instructions, the offerings, the house — is not consistent with normal childhood memory decay. Normal forgetting is gradual and general. This suggests either natural dissociation, or a more deliberate process of memory limitation.

[THE CHILD'S ACCEPTANCE] Children interacting with non-visible entities without fear — treating it as ordinary — is documented across multiple cultures. The absence of fear is not necessarily evidence that nothing was there. It may instead indicate that what was there presented itself in a way children found comfortable and adults found disturbing.

INCIDENT ASSESSMENT

Age at incident: ~7–8 years old
Occupant belief: Confirmed — owner stated directly
Memory status: Interactions absent. Ritual remains. Gap unexplained.
Classification: Incomplete record — not all logs can be fully recovered.

Personal Log #003

Maybe Some Stories Don't Want To Be Written

There's something I noticed over the years. Every time I seriously try to write down the unexplained things I've seen or felt, something stops me. I'm not joking.

// SR-PERSONAL-003 // Writing Log // Late Night

The Pattern I Keep Noticing

Every time I seriously try to write down the unexplained things I've seen or felt over the years, something stops me. I've tried writing for True Singapore Ghost Stories before. Every time I start properly recalling the memories, something happens. Sudden distractions. Someone calling. Mood suddenly gone. Computer issues. Or I'll just stop halfway and completely forget about it for months — sometimes years. Then one random night I'll suddenly remember everything again. And when I finally decide: okay, tonight I'll finish writing it — something interrupts again.

What's Happening Right Now

Even while typing the stories earlier tonight, I suddenly felt cold.

Not normal cold.

The kind that slowly creeps into your body for no reason.

I'm wearing a thick winter jacket while typing this and I still feel it inside my arms and chest.

. . .

Maybe coincidence. Maybe I'm just tired. But every time I write these stories late at night, the atmosphere around me starts feeling different. Heavier. Too quiet. Like something is sitting nearby, reading along while I remember everything.

And honestly — I'd rather not know if that feeling is real or not.

How It Started

Since I was young, I've always been able to notice strange things. Not full horror-movie ghost sightings. More like shadows at the corner of my eye. Sudden feelings. Sensing something nearby before anything visible confirms it. Noticing things just before other people do.

After my accident in 2012, the "seeing" mostly stopped. But the feeling never fully disappeared. Even today, I still occasionally catch movements at the edge of my vision. When I turn to look properly, nothing is there.

I also spent years around spiritual things — tarot cards, superstitions, certain practices. Maybe that made me more sensitive to things most people tune out. Or maybe once you experience enough genuinely strange things in life, your brain simply becomes more alert to certain signals. I honestly don't know. And maybe I don't want to.

What I Know

All I know is this — every time I start writing these stories seriously, something always seems to notice. Whether that's my own mind working against me, or something else paying attention, I can't say.

If you're reading this late at night — especially if you found it through a search at some strange hour when you couldn't sleep — then maybe you already know what I mean. Some things don't like being remembered out loud. But some things need to be.

// SIGNAL RECORDED: Repeated unexplained interruptions each time writing sessions begin. Physical cold during writing despite warm clothing. Sustained feeling of being observed. Pattern consistent across multiple years and multiple attempts.

Additional Field Notes: Maybe Some Stories Don't Want To Be Written

Log Classification: Personal / Sensitivity / Pattern Recognition

[WRITING INTERRUPTION PATTERN] The consistent failure to complete written accounts of unexplained experiences — across different environments, different devices, different time periods — is noted in accounts from people with long-term exposure to unexplained phenomena.

[THE 2012 ACCIDENT] Traumatic events are frequently cited as a turning point in sensitivity to unexplained phenomena — either increasing it sharply, or partially closing it off. The partial reduction in "seeing" after the accident, with the feeling persisting, is a consistent pattern.

[ON WRITING THESE LOGS] This site exists because these experiences happened and deserve to be recorded honestly. Not as entertainment. As documentation — the same way a field notes log records what was observed without requiring explanation. The fact that something doesn't want to be written is, itself, part of the record.

INCIDENT ASSESSMENT

Pattern duration: Multiple years
Consistent elements: Cold, atmospheric shift, feeling of observation
Status: Ongoing — these logs are the attempt to finish what keeps getting interrupted

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