7th Weekly Meeting: Ghost Story

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A Noisy Night

Written by Abisena Ahmadi S.

“This was me” uncle exclaim as he pointed out himself in the BW photograph. I used to play the piano and sing. I was the best baritone in the band. He smiled blithely as he recollected his old memories. He showed me so many photographs of what he was doing when he was young. He then pointed out his next bandmates looking overjoyed holding their instruments in another picture.

“Yolanda… Michael… Stuart…” Uncle’s quitted his eyes as he tried to remember the names of his fellow bandmates. It was evident that he missed them. A tragic smile carve across his face as he exhale deeply.

Uncle was the only band member saved from a cruise ship wreck which almost took his life some years ago. The ship was blazing wildly because of a mistake made by the kitchen staff that cause the cabins to sink completely. People were stuck in the flaming and sinking ship was some other decided to jump off into the infinite sea. It was a monstrous event.


Thousand of people were dead while uncle and a bunch of other passengers were found with severe injury. He told me how he and his band would go to wedding ceremonies, hotels, and even political inaugurals to entertain the guests. These dead people on photographs were once his soulmates, I thought.

His music room was grand and full of photographs and rusty instruments: a saxophone, a grand piano, flute, trombones, and drums. I remember he suggested me to sit down on the stool and watch him play a piece of music with his piano. He played it incredibly well. his hands were moving so eloquently despite the fact that he was 70. Both of his eyes were shut, signaling that he truly felt his music. I was mesmerized.

But since uncle’s sudden death from cancer, I roamed his house alone. The days felt lonelier and somehow haunting. One night I woke up hearing a blessing noise from outside my room. I instantly detected the sound of an old jazz music. I was petrified, but I couldn’t let the noise go away. I went outside my room and noticed that the music sounded even noisier as I made myself closer to the music room. I decided to open it.


The first thing saw was my uncle playing his piano religiously. Two men were playing saxophone, their eyes dead staring at me visionlessly. A tall lady wearing a tufted dress was saying beside uncle coma two other people playing the flute. They were all dressed in semi-formal party dress code. but other than that, they have another thing in common: the skin that mantle them so pale I can see no life inside their body. and yet they play the music ridiculously impressive.

Soon the room was filled with dancing pill couples hyping up the floor with their effortless grace. The men were in suits and tie while the ladies were in cocktail dresses. The form was all grotesquely and peculiar. I noticed an afro girl with no lips dancing with a man whose head almost fell off. It hovered up and down as he did dance moves.

I started shivering in my heart started racing as I watched a woman with full dark roasted skin dancing her heart out. Ashes came out from her bloody figure. The smell of a flesh being burned sneak through my nostrils and I felt dizzy that I wanted to vomit. I knew something unparalleled was happening. I noticed the band was playing the same music over and over again but each time faster and these pale people also danced even faster.

Splashes of blood were stained everywhere along with the sound of chattering and laughing. Happy expressions on bloody faces. The whole scene made me feel uneasy.

A hand suddenly reach my shoulder from behind, I gazed. It was a man. I couldn’t quite find his head until I noticed that he held his own head upside down with his left armpit and wedged it on to his chest. Blood came out from his blistered skin. His sliced neck was full of wriggling maggots. I covered my nose by reflect.


He grinned at me though it looked like a frown because of his head position. He then asked me with a hoarse voice: “Hey lady, would you dance with me?”

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