Psychic Capacities Unravelled

By Foo Yee Ching (Althea Reese)

Chapter 1

Foretelling the Demise of a Loved One

Singapore, December 1987

A loud shrill of an ambulance wailed, piercing through the quiet night. My body felt icy, and a shiver coursed through my spine. I felt a tight grip on my chest, though I could hardly comprehend why.  

Glancing at the clock hung on the wall opposite our beds, it was 3 am-the witching hour. I was lying in bed with my younger sister, Fang Shi Ting, aged four, three years younger than me. 

The room was dark, she was sleeping to my right, as our beds were placed side by side.  Beside my sister’s bed, were our brown study desks facing the wall. The oak bookshelf stood opposite our study desks. The windows and horizontal window grills were between the study desks and the bookshelf. Our room was one of the rooms in our parents’ four room flat in Upper Serangoon. 

I tried in vain to fall asleep. It was challenging as I thought about the person struggling to survive in the ambulance, and my anticipation of a celebration a few hours later.

I was looking forward to the morning with anticipation, as my mother had invited our cousins over to our home to celebrate my Chinese birthday, that very day.

In the morning, our aunt, in her mid-thirties, who lived nearby, came over to our home, and knocked on our door. When we heard someone at the door, my sister and I eagerly made our way to the cream-coloured living room, and sat at the russet-coloured wooden sofa diagonally opposite our door. The russet-coloured TV console was opposite our sofa. The windows were to the left of the sofa. 

Shi Qin and I inherited our large eyes from our father. That is where our resemblance ends. Shi Qin has a dark complexion, a flat nose, perceptive eyes, with very straight short and glossy black hair. I have fair complexion, a sharp nose, contemplative  eyes, short, black but wavy hair. 

Our mother, with penetrating eyes, flat nose, short hair, and dark complexion, stood at the gate, blocking our view. Our aunt said to my mother, “Mama passed away last night. We will cancel Shi Qin’s birthday celebration.”

It dawned on me that the ambulance that I heard the night before that sent chills down my spine was that of our grandmother, who stayed a few blocks away. I felt the fear course through my spine again, as I shivered. 

My mother thanked my aunt, and offered to invite her into our home. Our aunt declined, citing that she had household chores to tend to.  

My mother turned to us saying, “Your paternal grandmother passed away last night. We will cancel your Chinese birthday celebration, Shi Qin.”

We nodded. I felt sad that we could not celebrate my Chinese birthday, and our grandmother passed away on my Chinese birthday. 

My sister and I returned to our room. We sat on our beds and discussed the matter. 

“Did you hear the ambulance last night?” I asked Shi Ting.

“No, I didn’t,” said Shi Ting. 

“I heard it last night. It was wailing through the night. It sounded frightening. I could hardly sleep after I heard the ambulance,” I shared, as I attempted to explain the fear I could hardly articulate. 

“It must have been so scary. Luckily, I was sleeping, and I didn’t hear it, Jie,” Shi Ting said. Jie 姐 refers to elder sister in Chinese.

“You are fortunate that you slept through it. It was scary,” I said.

It was heartbreaking to learn of our paternal grandmother’s passing. In her late 70s, she was gracious and kindhearted. With white curly hair and compassionate eyes, our grandmother was about Papa’s height, 1.60 metres tall. 

“It is sad that our grandmother passed away. I have fond memories of our grandmother,” I said.

“I recall helping our grandmother wash her white hair. Speaking in Hainanese, our grandmother would also ask me to catch weevils in uncooked rice. Once, when she came over to our house, Papa wanted to give her more money, but she declined. She urged Papa to keep it for our family,” I shared.

“She’s nice, like an angel,” Shi Ting agreed.

“I agree, she is nice. It is painful that she passed away on my Chinese birthday. In the future, when my Chinese birthday comes around, I will think of our grandmother,” I said. 

Chapter 2

Foretelling an Accident Before It Occurred

Singapore, 1992

“Happy Lunar New Year!” I chirped as I entered Uncle Daniel’s home on the second day of the Lunar New Year. Uncle Daniel is my mother’s younger brother. Uncle Daniel had red couplets at his front door, with auspicious phrases. 

Uncle Daniel, his wife, Aunty Jo Lynn, and Aunty Jo Lynn’s parents stood at the door, greeting our family with smiles and politeness as we cordially exchanged oranges in the living room. Aunty Jo Lynn’s parents hail from Malaysia. They had travelled to Singapore for a short staycation. 

Our family was in high spirits and a celebratory mood with the festivities. Our family had taken a long commute by bus to our Uncle’s home in Woodlands. Papa,  bespectacled, with reddish complexion, wore his signature light blue collared shirt with gray pants. Mama donned a dark pink floral attire. I carried a small, red paper bag with two oranges, as was customary for Lunar New Year celebrations whenever we visited someone’s home. I, then aged 12, put on a lilac dress. My sister, aged nine, donned a light-pink dress. 

Uncle Daniel and his family had decorated their home with red lanterns, spring couplets, a large fu 福 (which signifies good fortune). The main door opened to the living room. A dark blue sofa was beside the door. An ebony coloured coffee table and an ebony TV console and TV were opposite the sofa. We sat on the sofa in the living room nibbling pineapple tarts, nian gao (brown steamed cameralised cake), and love letters. 

“新年快乐 Xin Nian Kuai Le (Happy Lunar New Year!) 心想事成 xin xiang shi cheng (May all your wishes be fulfilled)!” Uncle Daniel chimed as he handed out the 红包 hong bao（a red packet with some money inside), customary of the Lunar New Year celebrations. 

“新年快乐 Xin Nian Kuai Le (Happy Lunar New Year)，万事如意 wan shi ru yi (fulfill all your heart’s desires)，身体健康 shen ti jian kang (good health)!” I greeted with a radiant smile as I accepted the red packet with both hands and kept it in my bag. 

The marble-top dining table had ebony wood beneath, and ebony six chairs were placed further in the home. Aunty Jo Lynn prepared lunch, and she was bringing some sumptuous dishes from the kitchen to the dining table. There were chicken, fish, vegetables, and prawns.

As the adults were excitedly engaged in a robust discussion, I strayed off to a room. Out of nowhere, the words ‘motor accident’ flashed on the wall of the room for about 30 seconds. It was an ominous omen I could neither ignore nor articulate aloud. Then it vanished like phantom graffiti.

The air tightened in my lungs. Terror and an icy dread settled in my stomach. My fingers went stiff. I blinked. Once. Twice. But the words vanished, leaving only dread in their place. I hoped the words would not materialise into reality and were merely figments of my imagination, not unpropitious presages waiting to sprout.

I swiftly walked out of the room and back into the living room, gripped by fear. No one else had perceived anything strange. My sister was nibbling on pineapple tarts then. 

As it was during the Lunar New Year, the most auspicious celebration of the year, I kept my lips sealed. How could I tell anyone what I saw? The Lunar New Year is a time for good fortune and auspicious tidings.

Speaking up about accidents during the Lunar New Year was taboo, akin to inviting misfortune into the celebration. I could not bear the thought of bringing that upon Uncle Daniel’s family. Our mother would have just brushed me off as blabbering nonsense, or she would have reprimanded me for ushering in bad luck into our uncle’s home. Instead, I smiled, ate my pineapple tart, and swallowed the chill sitting at the base of my spine. We partook in the sumptuous lunch before extending our gratitude and returning home. 

In August that year, my mother received a call from Uncle Daniel. Her countenance looked sober following the phone call. 

“Do you remember when we went to Uncle Daniel’s home during the Lunar New Year and we met his parents-in-law? Uncle Daniel’s parents were involved in a motorcycle accident. Uncle Daniel’s mother-in-law passed away,” our mother said soberly to my sister and me. 

When I learnt of Uncle Daniel’s mother-in-law’s demise, that she had succumbed to her injuries, the words I had witnessed months ago, long gone from the wall, flashed back on my mind in full force. 

When my sister and I returned to our bedroom, I shared my flashback with my sister. 

“Actually, I had a premonition that this motor accident would occur before it happened. Remember when we went to Uncle Daniel’s home during the second day of the Lunar New Year? I strayed off to a room when the adults were talking. In that room, I saw the words ‘Motor Accident’. But the words vanished a few seconds later. I was very scared and I quickly left that room,” I divulged.

“That’s truly frightening. I can’t imagine how you felt, Jie Jie,” Shi Ting murmured. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” asked Shi Ting.

"I couldn’t tell anyone. How do you tell someone during the Chinese New Year, the most auspicious celebration of the year, that something terrible is on its way? Chinese New Year is a time for good fortune and auspicious words,” I replied.

“You are right, mama would have chastised you for talking rubbish or cursing people! Good that you kept those things to yourself,” Shi Ting opined. 

Chapter 3

Forebodings in the Dark

Singapore, 1997

In March 1997, I was watching the news on television one quiet evening while sitting on the sofa. A snapshot of Gianni Versace, Princess Diana, and Mother Teresa standing together appeared on the TV screen. 

The moment I saw them on the TV screen, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread and apprehension wash over me. Something within me recoiled. It was as though something dark had already touched them. The chills coursed through my spine again, akin to the time the ambulance wailed through the witching hour that fateful night in 1987, and ‘Motor Accident’ words I witnessed in my uncle’s home in 1992. I shuddered. 

They each belonged to different worlds. A princess, attired in melancholy and defiance. An illustrious and audacious designer decked in silk. A saint, robed in virtue, her hands weathered by compassion. Yet, an ominous veil seemed to shroud them all that night. A veil of farewell. But I kept silent. What could I have said? That I saw death lurking quietly beside them, imperceptible to the rest of the world?

Months passed. The newspapers reported that Gianni Versace was murdered outside his Miami villa on 15 July. Princess Diana was killed in a motor accident in Paris on 31 August. When I learnt that Mother Teresa passed away on 5 September, that news was too much to bear alone. 

I confided in my sister following Mother Teresa’s demise. 

“Actually, earlier this year, either in February or March, I watched news on TV where Gianni Versace, Princess Diana, and Mother Teresa stood together on the TV screen,” I shared. 

“Then what happened?” asked Shi Ting.

“At that time, an inexplicable fear washed over me. It reminded me of the fear that gripped me when the ambulance passed by in the wee hours of the morning in 1987, and the time when I saw the words ‘Motor Accident’ at Uncle Daniel’s home in 1992. Then months later, Gianni Versace, Princess Diana, and Mother Teresa all passed away one after another,” I disclosed. 

“That is chilling! It seems like you could foretell their passing months before it occurred,” Shi Qin murmured, with her eyes widening in fear. 

I nodded. Three souls, gone in swift succession. Three farewells, rippling across the continents. Sometimes, I wonder why I saw them that way—etched together in my mind before death bound them in history. Why did the knowledge come to me at all?

Chapter 4

The Lifesaving Intuition

Singapore, 2004

Working as a marketing executive in an automobile company, I was behind the steering wheel of the company’s car during a torrential downpour. The rain plummeted down so heavily it stitched a veil across the car’s windshield. Everything ahead dissolved into shadow. 

As I considered switching to the left lane, I glanced at the left mirror. But all I saw was black and grey. Rainwater on my windshield distorted my view. I could hardly fathom if it was the wet tarmac or another vehicle lurking behind the shadows.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard the words, ‘Stay in Your Lane’.

It was as if my intuition urged me to stay put, to hold steady in my lane. I heeded that instinct. Two seconds later, a gigantic truck, massive, metal, and merciless, roared by on my left, splashing water as it sped past from the lane I had meant to take. My car shook in its wake. If I had changed to the left lane a second earlier, I would not be alive.

When I returned home, I shared my harrowing experience with Shi Ting. Our family had already shifted into a five-room flat in Hougang since 2000. There were three bedrooms in the flat. Now, my sister and I sleep in different rooms. My room was painted lilac. The windows and square window grilles were diagonally opposite my room’s door. Some cabinets stood below the window. Opposite the window was my bed. A white drawer cabinet stood  on the door’s left on entering. Beside that cabinet was a display cabinet. My study desk was beside the display cabinet. 

“I had a narrow brush with death today,” I said.

“You what?! What happened?” asked Shi Ting. 

“I was driving along the Central Expressway this afternoon and it was raining very heavily. I thought of changing to the left lane because I did not want to go so fast. I looked at my left mirror but I could not differentiate if it was the road or a vehicle on the left, as it appeared black. Then I heard the words, ‘Stay in Your Lane.’ Just two seconds later, a truck sped past from the left lane I wanted to take. Fortunately, I heeded that voice or I would have been crushed by the impact. I could have died,” I recounted.

Shi Ting gasped, her voice tight. “Thank goodness you trusted that intuition. If you hadn’t… we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Chapter 5

Another Divine Protection from Death

Singapore, 2005

My ex-colleague, an Indian man in his thirties, and I were in a dark blue Mazda car he was driving along Kaki Bukit Road. We were on our way back to the office from a client’s place. I was seated in the passenger seat. It was an ordinary morning, with the sun peering through a line of trees that sheltered the road.  

Out of nowhere, a white car came dashing toward us at high speed, from the opposite direction, on the same lane! It veered straight onto our lane like a bullet gone astray. It was a nightmare no one wanted to have, akin to an action movie. The bonnets of our cars were face-to-face, about 80 centimetres apart. But it was all too real.

I froze. Thinking it was my end, I whispered my last prayers. I closed my eyes, and braced for the impact.

I heard my colleague pressing the horn loudly to alert the errant driver, and felt our car swerving left. When our car stopped, I opened my eyes. I was still alive, thankfully. My colleague was also unscathed. Our car had barely skimmed the kerb. The white car screeched to a halt, missing us by inches. 

When I returned home that evening, I shared this nerve-wracking incident with Shi Ting in my room. 

“I had another brush with death today,” I said.

“What?! Not again! What happened today?” asked Shi Ting. 

“I was in the passenger seat of a car driven by my colleague this morning. We were returning back to the office from a client’s place. Along the way, we were driving along Kaki Bukit Road. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a white car came dashing towards us at high speed, on the same lane, from the opposite direction! It was similar to an action movie,” I recounted, with my legs turning jelly as I recalled that horrifying experience. 

“Oh no! That is scary! You are right, it seems like something out of an action movie. Then what happened? ” asked Shi Ting.

“I thought I was going to die, so I said my last prayers. I closed my eyes, and braced for the impact,” I recalled. 

“Don’t stop there. Then what happened?” Shi Ting pried.

“I heard my colleague pressing the horn loudly to alert the errant driver, and felt our car veering to the left. When our car stopped, I opened my eyes. I realised we survived, and our car had barely skimmed the kerb. The white car screeched to a halt, missing us by inches,” I shared. 

“It must have been both terrifying and horrifying,” Shi Ting murmured.

“It was. We were both shaken. I later suspected the driver was drunk. He drove across the white marking dividing the two opposing roads and veered onto our lane. The errant driver endangered not only himself but also jeopardised the lives of others,” I underscored.

“Drivers have social and moral responsibilities to drive carefully on the roads. Negligent driving may cause an accident, which may result in a fatality. The victim could be someone’s child, sibling, parent, spouse, relative, friend, or loved one. The remorse and guilt of killing someone may haunt them for the rest of their lives,” accentuated Shi Ting. 

“Yes, drivers need concentration on the roads. If they drink, they should not drive as the alcohol levels may distort their vision and attention. If they are too exhausted, they should not be the ones holding the steering wheel. A moment’s carelessness or inattention may cost lives,” I highlighted. 

“I am so relieved that you emerged unscathed. The divine protected you. I am so thankful you are still with us now. Had the divine not protected you, we wouldn’t have this conversation right now,” asserted Shi Ting. 

“Yes, I am deeply grateful. I felt as if the divine had been watching over us, gracefully and mercifully reaching down and pulling us from the brink of death. It was akin to being plucked from fate’s jaws,” I acknowledged. 

“It makes me wonder. Do you think the divine protected and saved you for a reason? Maybe you’re meant to help the world.”

I held her gaze. 

“I’ve wondered that too. I believe there must be a reason they saved me. But for now, I don’t know what the reason is yet,” I shared. 

Chapter 6

Whispers of Mortality

Singapore, 2006

 I had not spoken to my primary school classmate, Selene Neo for weeks. 

Out of the blue, I felt a strong urge to reach out so I messaged Selene on What’sApp. 

Me: How are you doing, Selene?

Selene: Not good. My father just passed away a few minutes ago.

For a moment, my cognition lapsed, as though time had stood still. The air turned heavy, pressing down with the weight of what Selene had just informed me. Attempting to regain my composure, I replied to her message.

Me: I am sorry to learn about the demise of your beloved father. How are you feeling? How is your mother?

Selene: I'll chat with you later. I need to attend to some administrative matters related to this.

When Shi Ting returned home that evening, I confided in her. 

“You know my primary school classmate, Selene Neo, whom I am quite close to? I didn’t contact Selene for a few weeks. Today, I just had an intuitive nudge to reach out and message her to ask how she was doing. Then she replied that her father had passed away a few minutes earlier,” I shared.

Shi Ting's eyes widened. "Just minutes earlier?"

"Yes," I replied with a nod, the memory still sharp. "It was as if her father’s spirit had telepathically reached out to me, so I would be there to lend my support during her darkest times.” 

"Are you going to the wake?" Shi Ting enquired, her voice softening.

I nodded. "And the funeral. It is a heartbreaking time for her family."

Chapter 7

Surfacing of the Words ‘Real Estate’

Singapore, 2015

I have been working as a Corporate Communications Executive in a multi-national company since 2010. We were working on the third floor of a building. Our office had maroon coloured partitions, warm-white light and oak-coloured desks. 

My colleague, Colin Tang, from another department, came to my cubicle to speak to me about featuring a fundraising event for a charity. 

Out of nowhere, the words, ‘Real Estate’ surfaced in my mind for a few seconds. Then it vanished when Colin walked away. Since we were colleagues then, I felt it was inappropriate to encourage a colleague to leave the company and enter another sector. Besides, I could not ascertain if the real estate sector would be his true calling in life.

One day, Colin came to my cubicle again.

Again, the words, ‘Real Estate’ flashed in my mind for a few seconds. 

“I am leaving the company, I came to say goodbye. Today is my last day,” Colin said. 

“Oh, sad to know you are leaving. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have given you a farewell lunch. Where are you heading?” I inquired.  

“I am going to do fundraising for a tertiary institution,” Colin replied. 

As Colin did not secure a career in the real estate sector, I thought it was wise to keep the words ‘Real Estate’ that surfaced in my mind to myself. 

“All the best for your future endeavours! Keep in touch!” I chimed. 

Four months later, he left the tertiary institution he worked in. 

In his Instagram post, I learnt that Colin ended up in real estate. A few months later, Colin became one of the top agents in his company.

I shared this with my colleague, Chantal Tee over lunch at a restaurant one day.

“Do you remember Colin Tang who left our company?” I asked.

“Yes, I do. He left some time ago. What about him?” asked Chantal.

“Every time Colin came to my desk to speak to me, the words ‘Real Estate’ flashed in my mind,” I shared.

“Did you tell him what you saw?” asked Chantal.

“No, I didn’t. It felt inappropriate to urge a colleague to consider another field when we were working in the same office. How could I encourage a colleague to leave? There are ears behind the partitions. I kept what I saw to myself,” I replied.

“Then what happened?” asked Chantal.

“One day, he approached my cubicle again. Again, the words ‘Real Estate’ flashed in my mind. He told me he was leaving our company. I asked him where he was heading next. He said he was going to be a fundraising manager at a tertiary institution. As it was not in the real estate sector, I did not tell him what had surfaced on my mind. I did not want to dampen his spirits about going into the tertiary institution,” I shared.

“Months later, he left the tertiary institution and became a real estate agent. A few months later, he is one of the top Real Estate agents in his company,” I added. 

Chantal lifted her eyebrows. “Don’t you think it would have saved him a detour if you’d told him?”

“Maybe. But I didn’t want to disappoint him when he sounded so excited about his new role as a fundraising manager in the tertiary institution,” I pointed out, shrugging.

“That’s true.” Chantal nodded. “If I were in your shoes, I might have kept silent too.”

Chapter 8 

Conjecturing the Gender of a Friend’s Future Children

Singapore, 2016

I was conversing with my colleague, Chantal Tee, one day over lunch at a restaurant. 

“Guess if I will be having a boy or a girl in the future?” asked my colleague, Chantal Tee, playfully one day.

Chantal was still single, attached, but not married. 

“I guess you will have a girl, then a boy,” I said.

Years later, she tied the knot. She had a daughter first, then a son years later. 

 I shared this experience with Shi Ting. 

Shi Ting looked intrigued. “Wow! You can foretell something so far ahead. Can you read my future? Will I have children? A girl or a boy?”

I hesitated, then asserted gently, “I’m sorry to disappoint you…But I don’t see children in your future.”

“What?” Shi Ting blinked and looked momentarily crestfallen. “Does that mean I’ll be an old maid? Will I at least get married?”

I smiled, squeezing her hand. “Yes, I believe you will get married. But children may not be a part of your path.”

“Haha, that’s fine. I don’t need an extra financial burden anyway,” Shi Ting remarked with a wry grin.

“Just wondering, don’t you think it would have been wonderful if your psychic abilities had extended to your ability to see the examination answers? Then you would breeze through all your examinations with flying colours? Maybe you could have become a scholar then?” quipped Shi Ting, with a chuckle. 

“I wish! That would only happen in my dreams. I never saw the examination answers appear in any of my examinations, unfortunately!” I replied, shaking my head. 

Chapter 9

Intuitive Nudges

Singapore, 2016

One day, my father accidentally broke a plate I loved. 

The small, round, delicate plate was ideal for tea breaks, ringed with beautiful pink and purple blossoms, mint-green leaves at its circumference.

I was upset because I believed it was the only one of its kind in our home. But I felt an intuitive tug within, compelling to go to the storeroom of our home. I turned over a plate stacked face down. Lo and behold, I was holding an identical plate resembling the broken one. It felt like the divine was guiding me to another plate with the same design, signalling that losing the broken plate was not the end.

In another instance, I was standing at the cashier, purchasing biscuits costing $3.70 at a small grocery store in our neighbourhood. As the coins in my wallet felt heavy, I used the coins for the payment. I poured out the coins from my wallet without counting. The salesperson tallied the amount. It was exact, not a cent more, not a cent less.

Chapter 10

Black Sheep of the Family

Australia, 2018

I visited our cousin, Trina Koo, in Melbourne, Australia. Trina was bringing me around to the Queen Victoria Market. Her brother called her while I was there with Trina. As she picked up the phone, the words ‘Black Sheep of the Family’ flashed across my mind. 

I did not broach the subject to Trina as I was concerned she might take it negatively and assumed I was putting a curse on her family. 

A few years later, her brother incurred a substantial debt with debtors, and the entire family had to flee to New Zealand.

Chapter 11

Missed & Undesired Moments

Singapore,  2018

I wanted to visit Aunty Chin Shing, our cousin, Annie Gan’s mother, at a nursing home in August 2018. 

When the nursing home cancelled the visit because of some activities, I wondered what would happen if I did not see her again? 

Aunty Chin Shing passed away on 11 February 2019 after the Chinese New Year in 2019, before  

In January 2019, I thought about Aunty Janelle while commuting on the way home after work on the North East Line, a purple coloured train network in Singapore. Aunty Janelle is my mother’s cousin. The words “She won’t make it past Chinese New Year” flashed in my mind.” 

True enough, she passed away on 3 February 2019, before the Lunar New Year. 

Months later, I confided in Shi Ting about this.

“Actually, I knew beforehand that Aunty Janelle would pass away before the Lunar New Year,” I confessed.

“How did you know?” asked Shi Ting.

“I saw the words, ‘She won’t make it past the Lunar New Year,’ some time in early January,” I divulged. 

“You saw those words?” Shi Ting’s eyes searched mine. “You didn’t say it because you didn’t want to ruin the festivity?” Shi Ting enquired. 

“Yes, you are right. I did not tell anyone because it was close to the festive period.  How could I? It was so close to the Lunar New Year. The season was abundant with red and gold. To speak of death would be akin to inviting inauspicious energy. People would perceive it as a bad omen, maybe even a curse. I kept quiet, letting the words remain just that—words, unspoken,” I explained.

Shi Ting nodded thoughtfully, and we sat in silence for a moment. It reminded us of the occasion when I witnessed the words ‘Motor Accident’ at Uncle Daniel’s home decades ago. These forebodings—they were part of me, yet they weighed on me as much as they helped others. Some days, I wondered if they were a gift—or a poignant reminder of life’s fragility.

Chapter 12

Premonitions of the COVID-19 Pandemic

Singapore, 2019

In October 2019, I was shopping at Nex, a crowded shopping mall along the North East Line, a purple-coloured train network in Singapore. Abruptly, I felt this intuitive nudge urging me to purchase six hand sanitisers, alcohol swabs, a box of face masks, two bottles of mouthwash, tissue boxes and two packets of toilet rolls. At that time, I did not comprehend the rationale why I did that. I just heeded my intuition.

When our old piano which served us for more than 25 years could no longer be repaired, I purchased a white digital Yamaha piano which was delivered in mid-October. I just felt I needed to purchase the piano then. 

In December 2019, the Singapore authorities announced the emergence of the COVID-19 pandemic. I related my experience with Shi Ting at home. 

“Before anyone breathed a word about COVID-19 in Singapore, in October 2019, I was stocking up on items, things I never purchased in bulk - six hand sanitisers, two packets of toilet rolls, alcohol swabs, a box of face masks, two bottles of mouthwash, and tissue boxes. I ordered my digital piano to be delivered in October, before COVID-19 hit Singapore in December 2019,” I recounted, my voice softening with the memory.

“Who knew you’d be so prepared, even before the virus reached Singapore?” quipped Shi Ting.

“In retrospect, the divine might have provided me with guidance to prepare before the authorities announced the virus. Without questioning it, I just heeded my intuition. I am grateful that I didn’t have to make last-minute purchases at the supermarket nor squeeze through the ridiculous crowds, which would have heightened the risk of contracting COVID-19,” I shared.

“Yes, fortunately, you purchased those items for our family. We did not have to grapple with the crowds who emptied the shelves of the supermarkets. Also, we did not have to run the risk of contracting COVID-19, which we may spread to our aged parents,” echoed Shi Ting. 

“I am thankful I scheduled the delivery of the piano in October 2019, before the Singapore authorities announced the COVID-19 pandemic. If I hadn’t heeded my intuition and delayed the delivery to December, it might have stoked fear in the deliverymen. Imagine going to someone’s home to deliver the piano when COVID-19 was just announced. I felt as if the ascended masters, spirit guides, angels, and ancestors of the brightest light were guiding me with the gentle insistence that I would require these things soon,” I affirmed.

“Yes, fortunately you purchased your white digital piano before our authorities announced the COVID-19 pandemic. We are fortunate that the divine has helped you in so many ways,” Shi Ting noted, with a nod. 

Chapter 13 

Heeding the Call to Chat

Singapore, February 2020

I frequently patronised a grocery store in the vicinity of my office that an Indian man in his eighties had established since the 1980s. He was a friendly senior, and I often enjoyed chatting with him. 

Towards the end of February 2020, I felt this intuitive nudge to chat with him. I felt I would regret it if I didn’t do so. When I bumped into him that evening, after I knocked off from the office, I mustered the courage to chat with him again. 

“Hi, how are you doing? Where do you stay? Are you going home for dinner? Your wife cooked?” I asked.

“Hi, nice to meet you again. I stay nearby, at Farrer Park. Yes, I am going home for dinner, my wife cooked,” he replied softly. 

“You have been working at your grocery store for several years. How many years?” I enquired inquisitively.

“I have set up this store since the 1980s. Now, I am in my 80s,” he said, smiling with pride. 

“That’s amazing! It is your labour of love. You must love the store so much, and witnessed how the buildings in the vicinity transformed over the decades,” I opined.

He nodded, beaming.

In early March 2020, I fell ill with the common flu and took a week’s medical leave from work. When I returned to the office the following week, the elderly grocery man was featured in the newspapers. He had contracted COVID-19 and passed away shortly after. His grocery store was beside a building that was under construction. Several migrant workers caught COVID-19. I conjectured that the grocery man might have inadvertently contracted COVID-19 from those who patronised his grocery store. I felt heartened that I heeded my intuition to speak  to him for the final occasion before his demise.

I related this to Shi Ting at home during the weekend. 

“At least you managed to chat with him before he passed on,” asserted Shi Ting.

“Yes, the newspapers shared that his hearse passed by his grocery store, which he established in the 1980s. It is heartening that his hearse passed by the store he toiled over several decades. It was his labour of love,” I recounted.

“Yes, it is touching, apt, and meaningful that his hearse passed by the store he had painstakingly established from scratch,” Shi Ting opined with a nod. 

“In hindsight, had it not been for that flu, I would have patronised his store, maybe caught the COVID-19 myself, and brought it back to our parents. The divine protected me then,” I disclosed. A shiver ran down my spine as I recounted that incident.  

“Maybe Ascended Masters, spirit guides and our ancestors protected you by giving you the common cold, so you would not go to the office when the epidemic was at its height,” Shi Ting perceptibly suggested, her tone reverent.

“Yes, I am thankful that Ascended Masters, spirit guides and our ancestors are always there guiding and protecting me time and again,” I affirmed with gratitude, nodding.

“I’d had premonitions about other pandemics before. But COVID-19 was different. In January or February 2020, the statistics of people diagnosed with COVID-19 flashed in my mind—3.6 million, 4.2 million, 5.2 million —climbing faster each time, as though each one carried its weight, its fear. It didn’t feel like SARS. The sense of foreboding felt much worse. It was like a silent premonition I couldn’t ignore. I felt an overwhelming dread and fear settle in, as if a dark shadow was looming,” I acknowledged.

“Maybe that’s why you felt that powerful sense of fear. Judging from the number of people affected and succumbed to COVID-19 in hindsight, you were right to be afraid then. It is horrifying! I can’t imagine what it is like to be in your shoes. I won’t be able to sleep at all!” Shi Ting exclaimed.

Chapter 14

When the Intuition Was Not Heeded

Singapore, 2022

In 2022, I suddenly had a powerful urge tugging at my heartstrings, to contact my secondary school geography teacher, Ms Cai Siew Lan. 

But I hesitated. I told myself she had cancer, and she needed rest. I should not disturb her. 

I regretted not heeding my intuition, as I learnt from another teacher that Ms Cai passed away one or two days later.

I confided in Shi Ting after I learnt of my teacher’s demise.

“Two days ago, I suddenly had the urge to contact my geography teacher. But I didn’t heed the intuition as I thought she needed rest as she had cancer. I regretted it so much. I just learnt she passed away today,” I disclosed, as tears trickled down my face. 

“You must have regretted it so much for not contacting her the last time before she passed away,” noted Shi Ting.

“Yes, I wish I could turn back the hands of time. I would contact her. Now, it’s too late,” I asserted.

Shi Ting offered a hug. I felt heartened by her warm embrace. It brought me comfort and solace. 

“But how do you differentiate whether a thought is an intuitive guide from the supernatural or your own thought?” asked Shi Ting.

“It took me a long time to figure it out, too. I watched a video by Goddess Energy, a tarot reader on YouTube. She pointed out that the first thought that flashes in our mind is our intuition, where Ascended Masters, angels, spirit guides or ancestors may divinely guide us. Acting on our intuition will bring peace and safety. The second thought that appears in our mind stems from our ego. Acting from our ego will bring chaos,” I explained. 

Chapter 15

The Final Whisper

Singapore, 2023

My friend, Pauline Soh was gravely ill in early October 2023. She had been battling kidney failure for some time. 

I whispered asking my spirit guides when Pauline would pass on. In my mind's eye, I saw the date ‘17 October 2023’.

Being cognisant of the day of her passing felt almost too real to bear. I reached out to Pauline via What’sApp on 16 October, the day before the D-date.

Me: How are you doing, Pauline?

Pauline: My days are numbered. But I am at peace. I look forward to reuniting with my parents in the other dimension. 

A few days later, I received a message from Pauline’s cousin, Iris Chia, who notified me of Pauline’s passing. 

Iris: Hi, are you Pauline’s friend?

Me: Yes, I am, and you are?

Iris: I am Pauline’s cousin. She handed over her phone to me. I learnt you were messaging her in the What’sApp conversation from her phone. I wanted to let you know that Pauline passed away on 17 October. 

Me: Oh no! I am sorry to learn of her passing. Hope your family will be strong. Let me contribute white gold. 

What I saw in my mind’s eye, ‘17 October 2023’ came true. Pauline actually passed away the day my spirit guides said she would leave this world. 

I related my experience with Shi Ting on a Sunday.

"Really?" Shi Ting quizzed, her eyes widening. "Your spirit guides gave you an exact date?"

I paused, drawing a breath. "And true to what I saw earlier, she passed away on 17 October 2023."

Shi Ting took a moment, as if weighing my words. “That’s... incredible, but so bittersweet. At least, you managed to speak to her a day before her demise.”

I nodded, sharing her mixed feelings, the weight of the experience settling deeply between us.

Fear, cautions, whispers from beyond—maybe they’re not meant to be understood. But with each one, I listen a little more closely.

Chapter 16

The M-Sign & Crescent Moon on the Palms

Singapore, 2024

“Wait,” Shi Ting remarked suddenly. “Didn’t Mama say that when you were born in 1980, she won $500 in a lottery. That was a big sum back then. Maybe you’re truly here for a reason,” Shi Ting mused, her eyes thoughtful.

I chuckled. “Haha, maybe! Who knows?” I paused, considering my next words. 

I paused, then added, “I recently watched a YouTube video about the ‘M sign’ on palms and crescent moon on the palms. I have the ‘M’ signs and a crescent moon on both palms,” I stated.

“Is that so?” Shi Ting’s eyes widened with fascination and intrigue. “Show me your palm, I want to see the ‘M sign’ and the crescent moon for myself! What are some characteristics of people with the ‘M sign’?”

“Well,” I explained, holding up my palms to illustrate, “people with this ‘M’ mark and the crescent moon on their palms are highly intuitive. We have a heightened sensitivity to energies, connected to the supernatural. I often wake up between 3 am and 4.30 am, also known as the witching hour when spirits are supposedly most active.”

“Yes, you do indeed have the M-sign on both palms!” noted Shi Ting in awe.

“Do you wake up at the witching hour?” Shi Ting quizzed.

“Yes, I do, I would often head to the washroom between 3 am to 4.30 am. Apart from that, I also often see synchronicities, repeated numbers on the clock, car plate numbers, receipts, bank notes, and blocks,” I acknowledged. 

“Is it? Do you know what those numbers mean?” asked Shi Ting inquisitively, with her eyes open wide.

“Yes, if you see 11, it ushers in new beginnings. 22 denotes relationship and diplomacy. 33 symbolises Ascended masters are protecting us. 44 connotes one step at a time. 55 alludes to change. 66 denotes altruism, 77 symbolises spirit guides and ancestors are protecting us. 88 refers to abundance and prosperity. 99 signifies the completion of a phase,” I explained.

“Wow, interesting! I didn’t know that repeated numbers symbolise something. Now I know!” quipped Shi Ting. 

Chapter 16

The Maiden Meditation Experience

Singapore, 2024

“Do you remember my first meditation session back in November 2019?” I began.

“Yes, I vaguely remember,” recounted Shi Ting, raising an eyebrow. “But what does meditation have to do with psychic abilities?”

“Well,” I replied, “I attended the meditation session in the evening. Even though it was my maiden experience meditating, I emerged feeling highly alert and brightly awake. I felt like I could stay awake for the next five or six hours or more. I later read that this heightened awareness might be remnants of deep meditation practices from previous lifetimes. Some Buddhist texts highlighted psychic abilities anchored in sustained meditation over lifetimes.”

“Maybe you often meditated in previous lives. That could explain why you had such an excellent experience meditating this time, even though it is your first meditation in this lifetime. Also, your psychic abilities might have stemmed from having meditated frequently in previous lifetimes,” suggested Shi Ting. 

Chapter 18

Uplifting Lives

I confided in Shi Ting about the purpose of my psychic abilities, whether I was meant to uplift the lives of people in some way. Shi Ting has been working as a psychologist for some years now. 

“I can’t help but wonder if there’s a purpose to my possessing these psychic and intuitive abilities. Can I be a bridge, linking the supernatural with reality? Can I leverage these psychic abilities to improve the lives of people?” I mused.

“Perhaps you can consider providing insight and perspective when people seek your guidance? Never give unsolicited advice. But I believe it is key to approach sensitive topics with tact,” Shi Ting recommended.

“But I don’t think everyone is open to listening to intuitive insights. Some people do not believe in the supernatural,” I rebutted.

“Yes, you can enquire. Discern if they’re receptive to intuitive insights before sharing anything deeply personal or predictive. In that way, you respect their autonomy while ensuring they are comfortable with what you share,” Shi Ting opined. 

“You’re right. Seek consent first,” I agreed. 

“Besides future predictions, you can offer comfort, solace, and empathy to people if you sense they have recently lost a loved one. Help them heal. Be the voice that reminds them that love, once shared, lives in their hearts,” suggested Shi Ting. 

“Yes, you are right. Besides offering them a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on when they are grieving, I can let them know that the memories they share with their loved ones, the lessons the loved one taught, will always remain in their hearts. I watched YouTube videos of people who reincarnated, who missed their loved ones from a previous life,” I opined.

"Love transcends lifetimes," noted Shi Ting.

“Besides that, I will encourage those grieving to be strong, as their loved ones would not want them to dwell in grief for too long. By offering comfort and solace, I let them know they are not alone. I will encourage them to carry the lessons and love forward, to find strength in memory,” I asserted. 

“If you presage a career path for someone, like with Colin, maybe share it gently. It may save them years of wandering in sectors that are unsuitable for or they might not thrive in. By sharing with them their paths of success in life, they can maximise their potential to the fullest, succeed, excel, and thrive in those sectors,” Shi Ting proposed. 

“Yes, you are right. I can encourage them to reflect on their lives, their choices and gently nudge them toward potential career paths that are aligned with their strengths and passions. In that way, I pave the way for them to pursue growth opportunities which empower them to thrive,” I affirmed. 

“Also, if you sense that some individuals have unresolved feelings or relationships, you can consider leveraging your psychic or intuitive abilities to help them comprehend their unresolved feelings, emotional blocks, let go of what holds them back, understand, heal, or provide closure if it involves memories or events they still carry,” Shi Ting advocated. 

“I’d like that. To help someone find closure is to give them peace.” I acknowledged. 

“But a note of caution. Tread gently. I understand you can foretell if someone’s time is about to be up, or if someone may be involved in an accident. But I suggest you eschew sharing such details with people, as it may stoke anxiety, and apprehension. It might engender more harm than good. That said, you can be there for someone if you sense their loved one’s time is about to be up, to be a pillar of support amid their challenging times,” Shi Ting advised. 

“I agree. I shouldn't share with someone about their loved one’s impending death or accidents. That may elicit much apprehension and worry. But I can encourage them to cherish and spend more time with their loved ones while they are still around,” I asserted. 

“But of course, it is imperative to prioritise consent and confidentiality. Confidentiality is sacred. Always ensure that those you help are open to receiving guidance before you offer it. Let them know that you keep their experiences confidential unless they permit you to share,” suggested Shi Ting.

“You are right, I should ensure they are open to receiving guidance before I offer it. Yes, confidentiality provides people with the confidence and assurance that they can entrust me with their innermost thoughts, feelings, and aspirations,” I asserted. 

“Sometimes I wonder, can a person develop intuitive abilities? Can I develop my intuition?” Shi Ting enquired as she tilted her head.

“You can develop your intuitive abilities through meditation, mindfulness or dream journaling. These will pave the way for you to trust your inner voice, leading to self-discovery and personal empowerment. Maybe you can help others too once you have developed your intuition,” I shared. 

“Are you going to change your career then? To leverage your intuitive and psychic abilities professionally to help others?” Shi Ting probed.

“Not at the moment. But someday, who knows? Maybe I could be a psychic reader, a spiritual healer, a numerologist, a psychotherapist, a writer or even a musician,” I mused.

I paused, smiling softly. “Maybe I’ll simply become…who I was always meant to be.”

We sat in silence, the air between us thick with memory and meaning. These visions—they are not merely flashes of fate. They are fragments of a world most people never see. Some days, I wonder if they’re a gift or a curse. But today, with Shi Ting listening—not judging, just listening—they felt a little less like a burden. With Shi Ting as my confidante, I did not feel so alone.

Chapter 19

Quiet Reflections

For decades, I have experienced clairvoyance-witnessing words that flashed in my mind, clairaudience-voices that whispered about events yet to unfold, and claircognisance-where I can intuitively presage what may happen in the future. 

These strange premonitions have followed me like a shadow, throughout my life, and haunted my dreams. The forebodings of a pandemic, intuitive messages from the preternatural, quiet premonitions of death of relatives, friends, and public figures alike, come inevitably out of the blue. At times, my telepathic abilities felt like a burden, as the premonitions about events to come were chilling. 

Yet, my psychic and prescient intuitive abilities were also gifts. Besides offering me the opportunity to connect with individuals before their passing, these gifts also provided me with divine guidance and protection through intuitive nudges that saved my life, time and again. These experiences opened my eyes to a preternatural world beyond the physical as I navigated the mysteries of loss, life, and destiny in life’s intricate tapestry. Though it was alarming at the onset, I have become accustomed to it over time, embracing it as part and parcel of my life.

They remind me: How thin the veil is between here and beyond. These psychic experiences underscored the fragility of life, reminding me to cherish my loved ones, family, and friends, and make positive contributions to society while I still can. 

Sometimes, the only thing we can do is listen. Not with fear or doubt. But with reverence.

I chronicled these experiences as a writer, to journal what have been shrouded deep in the recesses of my heart. These memories I could not articulate to others apart from a few cherished confidantes, for fear of being judged by those who do not believe in the preternatural. Yet, I want to encourage those who also possess these psychic gifts, to embrace these divine and intuitive abilities. You are not weird; you hold in your hands the tremendous potential to uplift lives with your psychic abilities. 

The End.