True Horror Story: Mom, That Wasn't Me They Buried

This story is a true account that I heard from a coworker who hails from the Bandung Regency. For the sake of everyone involved, I’ve altered the names and locations. I’ve added some improvisations to help readers follow the narrative. Happy reading.

One day around 4 p.m., Mrs. Saodah, a woman of about 35 years, was preparing dinner in her kitchen. While she was busy cooking, her son, Asep, who was in the fourth grade, asked for permission to play with his friends.

After school, Asep usually played soccer or other games with the neighborhood kids in an empty field at the edge of the village.

Asep's village was not a large one, just a small rural settlement with a few traditional stilt houses and semi-woven bamboo houses. At that time, gadgets were not available, so children were used to playing outside.

As dusk approached, Asep usually came home, bathed, and went to the village mosque to study the Quran. But that day, the evening call to prayer had already sounded, the sky was dimming, and Asep had not yet returned.

After finishing her evening prayer, Mrs. Saodah decided to fetch Asep from the field, which was about a five-minute walk from her house.

Sometimes, the children played until after dusk and only returned home after being scolded by their parents. It was understandable as they often lost track of time while having fun.

When Mrs. Saodah arrived at the field, she found it deserted. She wondered where Asep had gone. Worried, she hurried to the mosque.

As Mrs. Saodah approached the mosque, she heard the sound of sholawat (Islamic hymns). She looked for Asep among the children studying the Quran, but he was not there.

Noticing her presence, Mr. Sofyan, the village preacher, approached and asked, "Who are you looking for, ma'am?"

"Has Asep come to the mosque?" Mrs. Saodah asked, her voice trembling.

"No, ma'am, Asep hasn't been here," Mr. Sofyan replied.

Mr. Sofyan then asked his students about Asep, but none of them had seen him after school. Mrs. Saodah began to panic, and Mr. Sofyan tried to calm her down before accompanying her to the village chief's house.

The children at the mosque were left in the care of Ridwan, one of the older students.

Mrs. Saodah lived alone with Asep, her only child. Her husband had died a few years ago.

Upon arriving at the village chief's house, they were invited in and explained what had happened. The village chief recounted that Asep had come to his house to ask for permission to pick some mangoes from his yard.

In the village chief’s yard, there was a large mango tree that always bore ripe fruit. According to the chief, Asep had come with two other children around 4:30 p.m.

The village chief had never seen the two children who accompanied Asep before, so he assumed they might have been from a neighboring village or perhaps relatives of Asep.

However, something was odd about the two children: their skin appeared unusually pale, and they had faint dark circles around their eyes.

After granting the children permission to pick the mangoes, the chief went back inside, leaving the children to climb the tree. That was the last time he saw Asep.

Mrs. Saodah turned pale and was visibly shocked. She felt a cold chill run down her spine, making her hair stand on end. She asked the chief for help in searching for her missing child.

The village chief immediately informed several villagers to help search for Asep. The men began to gather in front of the security post near the chief’s house.

They brought flashlights and drums from the mosque and security post, then spread out, calling Asep's name as they searched the village and surrounding bushes, beating the drums as they went.

The village chief ordered Mrs. Saodah to wait at home with his wife. As the night grew later, Mrs. Saodah became more frantic. Her hands felt cold, and she occasionally wiped away her flowing tears.

She did not stop praying to the Almighty for her child's safe return.

Around 1 a.m., the village chief and the villagers returned home after an unsuccessful search. Mrs. Saodah, who was crying uncontrollably, was comforted by the chief's wife.

The search would resume in the morning. Mrs. Saodah went home feeling resigned. That night, she could not sleep at all, her mind only filled with thoughts of Asep.

Morning came, and a few people helped the chief search for Asep again, but fewer villagers joined this time as the others had to go to work.

One of the villagers suggested to the chief that they seek the help of Mbah Anom, a wise elder from a neighboring village, to assist in the search. The chief and another villager then went to Mbah Anom's house.

At the elder’s house, they found him sitting on a bamboo chair on the porch, sipping black coffee from an old, mottled tin cup.

They were invited in, and the chief began recounting the incident of Asep’s disappearance. Mbah Anom closed his eyes, occasionally furrowing his brow.

He then said that Asep was in a dark, confined, and damp place, and asked if there was an old, unused well in the village.

The chief confirmed that there was indeed an unused well located to the north of the village near some bushes. With this information, the chief quickly rode his motorcycle back to inform the villagers to search the well.

The villagers were shocked to find Asep curled up at the bottom of the well. They descended to retrieve his body.

His body was pale and very cold, with no signs of life.

When Mrs. Saodah learned of this, she rushed through the crowd and stood frozen, staring at her lifeless child. She broke down in hysterical tears, clutching Asep. The villagers looked on with pity.

That afternoon, the villagers helped Mrs. Saodah prepare Asep's body for burial.

The funeral proceeded smoothly, followed by a tahlilan (prayer gathering) that night. After the villagers left, only Mrs. Saodah and a few relatives who stayed over remained in the house.

Mrs. Saodah was deeply affected by her loss, frequently fainting and crying out her son's name.

As the night grew later, Mrs. Saodah tried to come to terms with her son’s passing, though it was difficult. Exhausted from the previous sleepless night, she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

In her dream, she was visited by Asep, who approached her wearing the same shirt and pants he had worn last.

Asep said, "Mom..."

"I'm scared..." his voice trembling with fear.

In her dream, Mrs. Saodah could not speak. She could only watch Asep without being able to embrace him in his fear.

"Mom, I'm here."

"That wasn't me they buried, Mom..."

"Help me..." he continued.

Mrs. Saodah woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat. Her heart pounded. She cried again. She repeated prayers, recalling the dream she just had.

She glanced at the clock on her bedroom wall, which showed that it was already dawn. She took a moment to calm herself and then went to perform ablutions.

In the morning, Mrs. Saodah recounted her dream. Her relatives advised her to be patient. She thought maybe she was just too heartbroken, which was why she dreamed of her son.

On the second and third nights, she had the same dream. Her son repeatedly visited her in her dream with a terrified expression, saying, "Mom, that wasn't me they buried..."

Feeling that her dreams were an omen, Mrs. Saodah told the village chief and asked for his help in exhuming her son's grave.

Instead of agreeing to dig up the grave, the chief tried to convince Mrs. Saodah that the recurring dreams were just a result of her inability to let go of her son's passing.

On the fourth, fifth, and sixth nights, Mrs. Saodah continued to have the same dream and pressed the chief to help her, who continued to refuse and insisted it was just a dream.

On the seventh day, Mrs. Saodah felt she could no longer bear seeing her son terrified in her dreams. The same dream for seven nights had nearly driven her mad. Relentlessly, she asked for the village chief's help once more.

Finally, the chief gave in and agreed to help exhume her son's grave.

Truthfully, aside from pity and not wanting to see Mrs. Saodah's grief worsen, the chief was also curious about what they would find if the grave was dug up.

That afternoon, Mrs. Saodah, two relatives, the chief and his wife, and two grave diggers went to Asep's grave. The grave was still fresh, with dried flowers scattered on top.

With Mrs. Saodah's permission, the two diggers began their work.

Mrs. Saodah tried to remain as strong as possible, holding back her tears. She couldn’t believe they were exhuming her son’s grave.

A few minutes into digging, Asep's shroud began to show, so the diggers slowed their pace to avoid damaging it.

Once the digging was complete, the diggers were puzzled by the shape of the shroud.

But without commenting, they continued, with the help of the chief and two of Mrs. Saodah's relatives, to lift the body out.

They placed the body next to the open grave. Mrs. Saodah stifled her sobs with both hands covering his mouth.

Everyone present was puzzled by the shape of Asep's shroud, which was unnaturally straight and rigid.

The village chief and one of Mrs. Saodah's relatives began to clean the dirt off Asep's face.

They were puzzled and quickly untied the knots and unwrapped the shroud covering Asep's body.

Everyone there was stunned to discover that inside the shroud was not Asep's body, but a banana tree trunk cut to the height of Asep.

Mrs. Saodah immediately went weak and fainted on the spot. This incident quickly spread throughout the village and even to neighboring villages.

To this day, no one knows for sure where Asep is.

Some say he was abducted by supernatural beings, while others believe he was used as a sacrificial offering.

Who knows? One thing is certain: Asep has never appeared in Mrs. Saodah's dreams again.

"Mother, the one buried wasn't me..." - The End