This is a true story that happened to me. I don’t care how unbelievable it sounds; it happened to me and I’m convinced something was after me.
Around December of 2019, I decided to visit some family who lived in Mandalay, Myanmar. Wanting to surprise them, I decided to bring some special gifts along the way. I remember as my older cousin was driving down the dark road towards the airport, I could see a silhouette zoom by me from outside the car. Startled, I immediately asked my cousin, “Did you see that?” She said she didn’t see anything, which made me believe I was just imagining things and that I was tired. So, I headed off to sleep.
After another 3 hours of driving, we finally arrived at the airport. A few connecting flights away and we landed in the Mandalay International Airport. Uncle Kennedy drove us to Aunt Can’s house, where I had a great time with my cousin. Eventually, I grew tired and headed off to sleep.
When I woke up, it was around 4 in the afternoon. Aunt Can and cousin had gone out to run some errands, leaving me alone in the house. Well, not completely alone. They had a small cat named Pangpar, which meant “flower” in Hakha Chin, my mother tongue.
I headed into the kitchen where I decided to grab a glass of water. Filling a cup, I headed back towards the living room. Suddenly, a shelf that held some flower vases broke, dropping those vases. They all fell down on me, crashing against my scalp. I fell to the floor and dropped my cup, screaming as blood ran down my face, my vision becoming blurry. I passed out shortly after.
I woke up maybe an hour or two later, my head still stinging horribly like a piercing migraine. I felt my scalp for blood… yet there was none. I looked in a mirror and saw that there were was so sign of any injury. But… how? The smashed bits of flower pots and dirt were still scattered around the place where I passed out, yet I was completely okay. I simply brushed it off, believing that the blood was just my imagination.
A few hours later, during evening, I had gone into the garden to water Aunt Can’s plants for her. As I let the water run through the hose and splash onto the plants, the silhouette from before reappearing in the corner of my eye, seemingly looking at me from behind a tree. I turned to face it, only to see nothing. Just the tree. Thinking someone was stalking me, I walked towards the tree, ready to confront whoever was there. But as I was walking towards the tree, a brick suddenly flew in my direction, knocking me out cold.
I woke up in my bedroom, Aunt Can and my cousin sitting around me. Aunt Can explained they found me unconscious in the garden near the tree. I went outside and found the brick, which was soaked in blood, presumably mines. Even though there was an agonizing pain that surged throughout my head, I wasn’t bleeding. This had happened twice already, and I thought it was the end of it.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Throughout the next week, a few strange occurrences kept happening where something should’ve severely injured me, just to wake up a few hours later being completely unharmed. I eventually got fed up with all the pain I was feeling… and told Aunt Can. I vividly remember tears welling up in her eyes and her body began to uncontrollably shake. Without saying a word, she quietly walked out of the house and arranged something over the phone.
A few hours later, I was at one of my relative’s houses, which was also a church. We come from a tribe originating in Chin State, Myanmar, where, despite being in a Buddhist-dominated nation, are Christians. It was a little unsettling seeing so many crosses in a single building, but I knew how religious my relatives can be. After all, they grew up in a partially-isolated country while I grew up in America.
My relatives explained to me that around the 18th century, my great great great great great grandmother was born; her name was Mawi. She committed an unspeakable crime which attracted an evil spirit into her home. Around 5 months later, she succumbed to a freak accident; a head injury.
From then on, more and more strange events happened to a specific person in a generation of our family. The next person targeted by these strange occurrences would experience all the deaths of the pervious people in line and eventually died to a new, brutal fate. My relatives said that this evil spirit refuses to leave our family tree alone. Now that our people group have spread across Myanmar, USA, Canada, Australia, and Japan, they barely ever hear about this entity’s attacks.
It was too much information for me to take in, and I’m still shaken up by it to this very day. I’m very lucky to have told Aunt Can sooner, as the only known way to get rid of this evil spirit was by a ritual, which was done on me in that church. I’m lucky I’m even alive today, able to share this story with you. If I hadn’t told Aunt Can about what had happened…
Something that fell on my head, a brick thrown at me, fallen into a lake, a knife through my chest, fallen off a cliff, a gunshot, burned ablaze, pierced by a spear, suffocated in cement, choke to death from smoke, hung, fallen into a thorny rosebush, skull ripped open. I would’ve gone through ALL of those horrible deaths before finally succumbing to an airplane crash. I didn’t get on that plane as I decided to stay a few days behind. The plane I should’ve boarded crashed into some mountains. Help didn’t arrive to the survivors for 2 days.
There are many things that I still question even to this very day. What was the silhouette I kept seeing before each death? Why did this spirit attach itself to our family tree? Am I truly safe? Whatever it is, I’ve learned to cherish my life more than ever after that visit.