Thai Ghost Stories 3
Before We Begin !! A gentle warning before we start Thai Ghost Stories 3—
The following content includes supernatural themes and a few unsettling moments.
If you’re reading this at night… You might want to leave a light on.
Some things in life don’t happen once and simply end.
They unfold slowly, threading themselves through years of ordinary time,
until we begin to wonder whether what we saw or heard was a coincidence,
a scientific explanation,
or something we simply cannot explain.
The story I’m about to tell happened in my own home —
a place that should have been familiar and safe,
yet filled with small incidents that made me turn back and look again.
And quietly ask myself:
“Who… is actually living in this house?”
Sometimes, living in a house for years doesn’t mean we know every corner of it.
And on certain nights…
it can feel as though someone else knows it better than we do.
Thai Ghost Stories 3 : Who’s in the House
This story unfolded over roughly four to five years.
No one talked about it. We all behaved as if everything were normal —
even when things clearly weren’t.
As I jokingly put it:
“It’s like passing gas — you smell it, you hear it, but you never see it.”
About 15–16 years ago — I don’t remember the exact year,
but the memories are vivid — strange occurrences happened often.
Our family tried to explain everything through logic and science.
But some things were simply beyond explanation.
Or perhaps… we imagined them.
Reader discretion is advised 🙂
Let me describe the house first.
It was a three-story shophouse.
-
Ground floor — living room and dining table
-
Second floor — two bedrooms with an open central space
-
Third floor — prayer room, my brother’s room, and an outdoor back area with a small shower
At the time, four of us lived there — my father, mother, brother, and me.
The house stood on the edge of Bangkok’s outskirts,
less than 10 kilometers from Nakhon Pathom.
It wasn’t crowded like today. Nights were quiet.
So quiet that I could hear my own footsteps clearly —
and sometimes… other sounds mixed in, even when no one was there.
Music from the Third Floor
One night around 9 PM, my brother was out,
and my parents hadn’t returned from Sanam Luang 2 market yet.
I was alone downstairs watching a movie.
Suddenly, loud music came from the third floor.
I remember thinking:
“Wow, he’s in a good mood — blasting music like that. Must have a date tonight.”
But as soon as I finished that thought…
the music stopped.
I assumed he’d come downstairs,
but I needed the bathroom first.
When I came out — he still wasn’t there.
I walked toward the second floor stairs.
The hallway light was completely off —
which he never did when he was home.
A chill ran through me.
I rushed downstairs, turned on every light,
and called him.
“Where are you?!”
He replied:
“At a friend’s place. Why?”
I hung up immediately
and called my parents instead.
“When are you coming home? I’m hungry.”
(Too proud to admit I was scared.)
After that, the music happened again —
but only when I was alone.
Never when someone else was home.
Strange, right?
It felt like the sound chose its audience.
I never recognized the melody —
just loud unfamiliar instrumentals lasting less than ten seconds.
As soon as I realized no one was upstairs — silence.
An unnatural silence.
As if the entire house stopped breathing.
The first time, I was terrified for days.
Then it stopped for half a month.
When I finally relaxed — it returned.
By the third time, I wasn’t afraid anymore.
I simply thought:
Maybe something unseen
just wanted me to know it existed.
The Nightmare
This next event didn’t happen to me directly —
but to my partner, while I was right beside him in my own house.
He stayed overnight one evening.
My bedroom was on the second floor, at the back.
After dinner and TV, we went to sleep.
He fell asleep instantly.
I stayed on my phone.
Suddenly, he jolted upright — sweating heavily
even though the night was cold.
He said he couldn’t breathe.
That he saw a child leap down from the ceiling
and sit on his chest.
His voice didn’t sound like someone describing a dream.
His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling —
as if expecting to see it again.
This is often called sleep paralysis —
a state where the mind wakes before the body,
causing suffocation sensations or hallucinations.
But whatever we call it,
the fear felt real.
He couldn’t sleep afterward.
I looked at the ceiling myself —
saw nothing —
yet suggested we move downstairs near the shrine.
He agreed immediately and slept peacefully.
Even now, I still wonder:
Who was that child?
The same presence behind the music?
The house was newly built — no deaths recorded there.
Or was it all in his mind?
There’s no answer.
Only questions left behind.
The Door That Opens
My bedroom door often opened and closed on its own.
At first, I rationalized it —
loose latch, strong wind during storms.
Perfectly logical.
I even slammed and locked it repeatedly
to test it.
Still — it opened.
Years later, on my wedding morning,
a colleague came early to do my makeup.
She believed she had spiritual sensitivity.
We were inside with the door shut.
Then suddenly —
the door slowly opened.
No handle turning.
No wind.
Just movement — as if pushed by invisible hands.
I barely reacted.
I had grown used to it.
But she frowned and asked:
“Does this happen often?”
“Regularly,” I replied.
It felt like someone peeked in —
checking who was inside —
then closed the door again.
I wasn’t afraid.
I casually spoke into the room:
“It’s fine — my friend’s here to help me.”
She then said quietly:
“It’s a Kuman Thong. Mine says so.” (a child spirit in Thai belief)
I simply smiled and let it pass.
The strange part wasn’t the opening —
it was how it closed afterward,
like someone leaving politely.
I sometimes joked that a child might visit my dolls.
Maybe they weren’t sharing the room with me —
maybe I was crossing their path instead.
And perhaps that’s why
I never felt afraid to sleep there.
These three incidents were only fragments
of what happened in that house.
Some I could explain.
Some I chose to ignore.
But the story didn’t end there.
More events followed in later years —
and one in particular changed how I saw everything.
This chapter of Thai Ghost Stories 3 ends here,
but the memories still linger.
I’ll tell you next time —
if you’re still willing to listen.
Thai Ghost Stories 4 — coming soon
