Bishan MRT Station, nestled in the heart of Singapore, is a bustling transit hub known for its sleek architecture and the seamless flow of commuters. However, beneath its modern exterior lies a history that few are aware of, a history that whispers of the supernatural.

Decades before the station's construction in the 1980s, the land on which Bishan MRT now stands was home to the Kwong Wai Siew Peck San Theng, a sprawling cemetery established in the 19th century by Cantonese and Hakka communities. Over 100,000 graves were interred there, each with its own story of life, death, and the afterlife. When the government decided to develop the area, the graves were exhumed, and the remains were relocated. Despite these efforts, some say that not all the spirits were willing to move on.

It was a rainy night when 15-year-old Sylvia, an RGS student, found herself waiting for the last train at Bishan MRT. She had stayed late in school finishing a project with her classmates, and now the usually crowded station was eerily empty, save for a few late-night travellers. The emptiness of the station amplified every sound—the distant hum of a train and the soft murmur of voices that seemed to come from nowhere.

As she sat on the bench, flipping through her storybook, Sylvia felt a sudden chill. The air seemed to grow colder, and she could see her breath misting in the dim light. She glanced up, expecting to see an open door or a draught, but everything appeared normal. Shaking off the feeling, she returned her attention to the book.

Moments later, the flickering of the fluorescent lights caught her eye. She looked up and noticed a figure at the far end of the platform. It was a woman, dressed in an old-fashioned cheongsam, her long hair cascading down her back. Sylvia squinted, trying to make out her features, but the woman remained in the shadows.

Curiosity piqued, Sylvia stood and took a few steps forward. The woman began to move, gliding silently along the platform. As she drew nearer, Sylvia noticed that the woman's feet didn't quite touch the ground; she seemed to float just above it. Her heart began to race, and she stopped in her tracks.

The woman turned, revealing a face pale as porcelain, with dark, hollow eyes that seemed to look through Sylvia rather than at her. The woman's lips moved, but no sound came out. Yet, Sylvia could hear her words as if they were whispered directly into her mind: "Where is my family? Where have they gone?"

Paralysed by fear, Sylvia watched as the woman drifted closer. The temperature plummeted, and a strong scent of frangipani flowers filled the air—flowers often associated with the dead in Chinese culture. Sylvia's instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs refused to move.

Just as the ghostly figure reached out a hand, the piercing sound of the approaching train broke the spell. Sylvia stumbled backwards, her heart pounding in her chest. The train screeched to a halt, and the doors hissed open. She bolted inside, collapsing onto a seat, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

As the train pulled away from the station, Sylvia dared to glance back. The woman was gone, the platform once again deserted. She could scarcely believe what had just happened. Was it a hallucination brought on by fatigue? Or had she really encountered one of the restless spirits of Bishan's past?