Letters from the Other Side

It was Thursday, October 19, 2023.

I woke up suddenly at 8:40 AM, heart pounding, breath short. I had just emerged from a dream—one so strange it left me dazed, unsure whether I’d just glimpsed life… or something darker. Maybe even death.

The dream was vivid, unsettling. I can’t recall every detail, but the parts that linger still feel too real to forget.

It began in the rented house I used to live in during my college days in Malang. It was late afternoon, and the sky was heavy, painted in shades of gray like a rainstorm that never came.

Out of nowhere, a friend invited me to a place he claimed was the most beautiful destination imaginable. I can’t remember its name—but he insisted it was worth everything.

Everything?

Before we could go, he said, we had to write a will.

A will.

I froze. That word alone was enough to send chills through me.

“What for?” I asked.

“To make sure we can come back,” he answered. “Because the place we're going… isn’t in this world.”

He wasn’t joking. Apparently, the destination was in another realm—accessible only through death.

I stared at him in disbelief. A vacation that required you to die first? Who would be foolish enough to do that?

Still, that evening, he and another friend—a girl—left. They were serious. They were going.

Curiosity got the better of me. I decided to follow them. But unlike them, I refused to write a will. I wasn’t planning to die, after all. Not today.

When I stepped outside to grab my motorbike, I was stunned—it had turned into a massive naked sportbike. I didn’t know where it came from, but it was real. I could feel the power rumbling when I revved it—four cylinders roaring beneath me like thunder.

I threw on my usual black Cargloss helmet with the glowing heart sticker on the back. Just as I was about to leave, I hesitated—should I wear my cooler TTC helmet instead? Might as well ride in style, right?

I ran back inside to switch helmets, yelling for them to wait.

But when I came back out—they were gone.

Impatient as ever, I thought. They probably hadn’t gone far.

I raced off down the street, trying to catch up. I had no idea where this so-called place was, but for some reason, I felt like I was on the right path.

The traffic was heavy, and I circled the streets endlessly. But no matter how far I rode, they were nowhere to be found.

Eventually, I gave up and returned home.

Frustrated, I grabbed my phone, ready to message my friend. But then it hit me—he said we wouldn’t be able to communicate with people in this world once they reached “the place.” That’s why the wills were important: they were written for the living, to reach back from beyond.

Still, I sent a message.

Just one checkmark.

Now I was really unsettled. That friend never turns off his data. Ever.

I could only hope he was safe… wherever he was.

The next day, another friend asked me if I wanted to go to “that place.”

I said yes immediately.

This time, I wasn’t just curious. I wanted answers. I wanted to find my friends.

The strange thing? It was just like before—late afternoon, gloomy sky, and again, my friend brought along a girl. Different people, same scenario.

Once again, I found myself on the same sportbike, wearing the same helmet. And just like yesterday, they left without me.

I sped off to chase them again.

As I wandered through crowded streets, something shifted. I found myself in a graveyard.

A real one.

All around the tombstones were pieces of paper, fluttering slightly in the breeze. I picked one up. It was a will—addressed to someone still alive.

I looked closer. Every gravestone had one.

And then I saw the names.

Their names.

All four of them.

They weren’t just gone. They were dead.

Silence roared in my head. I couldn’t make sense of it. All the strange pieces of the dream started to fit together. The wills. The disappearing messages. The warnings.

My heart sank, heavy with questions and disbelief.

With nowhere else to go, I turned around and began heading home.

And then—rain. Sudden, loud, unrelenting. It poured over me, soaking everything.

That’s when I woke up.

Lying in bed.

Back in the world of the living.

On a quiet Thursday morning.

But the dream hasn’t left me since.