TheQuietDraft
Maya was ten when it happened.
It was a quiet evening. Her father was in her room, fixing the bedsheet. She was bouncing on the springy mattress, one hand gripping the metal window bar, peeking out into the backyard.
That was when she saw her.
A woman in white. Standing completely still under a tree, deep in the thick bushes behind Uncle Cheng's house. She was holding a baby close to her chest. Her face looked pale. Her eyes stared blankly into the distance.
"Dad," Maya said, pointing. "Who's that? Is that Uncle Cheng's daughter? She's holding a baby."
Her father didn't even glance outside.
"There's no one there, Maya. Come on. Let's go to the living room. And stop jumping."
Maya paused. The woman was still there. The baby didn't move. She slowly climbed down from the bed and followed her father out.
Later that night, Maya asked her mother.
"Uncle Cheng isn't home tonight," her mum said. "He's staying over at his children's place. The house is empty."
That part of the yard suddenly felt different in her mind. It wasn't a place people used. The grass was long, the weeds tangled, and banana trees leaned heavy with nothing. The tree in the middle stood tall and crooked, like it was tired. No lights ever came on behind Uncle Cheng's house. Just a narrow dirt path leading to a quiet, unused space.
Maya never told anyone what she saw.
Until years later in university, when her lecturer asked, "Tell us one unforgettable memory from your childhood."
And the backyard came back to her all at once. The tree. The baby. The woman who stood where no one ever did. So, Maya told the story.