The Whisper That Won't Fade
POV 1 – Dita (12 years old, Village Girl)
I know I'm forbidden from going behind the mosque, especially near the old well covered with rusty wood and metal sheets. But that afternoon, I heard a sound.
Not an ordinary sound. It was soft, like a whisper... like a woman singing a lullaby. A song I didn't know.
"Who's there?" I asked quietly.
No answer. But the wind that blew past me carried the scent of kenanga flowers. Strange, because those flowers only bloom at night.
Since that day, I often go there. Sit quietly. Sometimes talk. And somehow... I feel the well answers me. Not with a voice, but with a feeling. Sometimes warm. Sometimes cold. Sometimes... sad.
People say I'm imagining things. But I know—the well itself is... lonely.
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POV 2 – Bu Mirah (Market Snack Seller, 47 years old)
That well used to be the village's life source.
But after the incident in 2001—a little child vanished without a trace nearby—the well was sealed. No one dared open it again. Even the diggers refused to touch it. One said when they tried to clean it, they heard crying sounds from inside. One of them got a fever for a whole week.
The villagers began to believe it's a "haunted" place. Some brought offerings. Some left flowers. But no one ever came close again.
Until Dita. A brave kid. But also... innocent.
I once asked her, "Why do you go there?"
She just answered, "My friend is sad, Ma'am. She can only stay there."
I got chills. Because the child who disappeared was also a girl. And they say she often talked to herself near the well.
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POV 3 – Pak RT (Neighborhood Head, 58 years old)
To me, this is not about ghosts or not. It's about buried history.
When I was young, the well was ordinary. But its location was strange—alone, far from villagers' homes, near the ruins of an old Dutch colonial house. People used to say it was where a Dutch servant who was burned alive by the mob once lived.
I read village archives once. There were reports of "missing children" since the '70s. Some were found—some weren't. Police said maybe kidnapped, maybe drowned. But always... around that well.
I once tried setting up a hidden camera. But the footage was strange. Every night, only a shadow of a child appeared... and a song in old Dutch echoed.
I keep the video. But I haven't dared watch it again.
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POV 4 – Niko (Anthropology Student, 23 years old)
I came to the village for my final thesis research, on "locality and water myths." When I heard about the well, I got intrigued.
Scientifically, sounds from wells can be explained: echoes, air pressure, sound reflections. But... the data here is odd. Too many similar stories across generations.
I dug deeper. Turns out in colonial times, near there was a secret nursing home for women discarded by their masters. Many Indo nurses reportedly vanished mysteriously.
There's a note from a Dutchman—J.H. de Vries—mentioning a "water princess" emerging from the well to collect lonely souls.
A legend? Maybe.
But I can't forget Dita's look when she told me:
"Sir... please don't photograph the well. She's shy."
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POV 5 – Dukun Tarip (Village Shaman, 66 years old)
I have long avoided meddling with that well. Some things humans shouldn't disturb.
But after Dita got close, the voices came back to my dreams. A child's voice, crying and asking:
"Can I go home now?"
I know what it means. The spirit is not evil. Just... lost.
Sometimes, lost souls don't wander because of death. But because they've been forgotten too long, and don't know where to go.
I want to help. But one wrong move could bring disaster.
Because the rumor is true: the well is not a home... but a prison.
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Interesting Fact: Some Indonesian villages believe places with repeated losses can "store" soul energy—especially water, which is thought to be a medium for spirits' transition.
Philosophy: We often forget that places can "remember." What humans forget is sometimes kept by earth, water, and air—waiting for someone willing to listen again.
Local Rumor: It's believed children are more able to "hear" and "see" the unseen because their hearts are still pure. That's why haunted places often "communicate" first with children.