When You Live In A Haunted House…

In the spirit of Halloween, kwentuhang nakakatakot muna tayo.

Have you ever had any ghostly experiences? Like have you ever seen one? Feel one perhaps? I’m not afraid to admit that I am a big scaredy cat myself. When I was a kid (sometimes until now), the dark always frightens me. Whenever we have to pass through a dark street or go inside a dim-lit room, I walk as fast as I could or close eyes so tight as if their sealed with epoxy, afraid of whatever I might see – or what might see me – in the absence of light. Ironically, I love everything that is terrifying. I love listening to scary tales, watching horror films, reading ghost stories. I live for those things.

Luckily, I’ve never seen a ghost face to face. But I had a lot of close encounters, if you may call it. And it all happened here, right inside the walls of our house.

I cannot say that our dwelling is truly ‘haunted’. For one thing, it’s relatively new (only a few years older than me) to be one. However, it’s dead quiet most of the time. And as paranormal experts assert, hushed spots are favorite thriving spots of these eerie entities.

One afternoon, I was watching TV in my room with the doors left open. My grandmother, whose room stands adjacent to mine, went out to go to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. After a few minutes, I heard her bedroom door opened once more, and there she was again, walking in the hallway, heading towards the bathroom…

There was also one time when my cousins, my sister and I were sharing ghost stories in my room. I was about to tell a story about my aunt’s room when my sister suddenly butt in and exclaimed, “Ay oo sa kwarto ni Tita! Dati nasa kwarto ako ni kuya, ako lang mag-isa dito sa taas, tapos narinig ko yung monoblock na upuan ni Tita na gumagalaw, parang may humihila!”. That creeped me out big time. It was exactly the same story I’m about to tell them…

And just recently, we celebrated my grandmother’s brother’s 40^th day of departure to the living world. A short ‘padasal’ was held in our house but I did not even bother. That very night, I had a terrifying yet sad dream about my dead relatives (at least those whom I know). They were in a hospital, all in their deathbeds, crying, begging me for help…

In between are stories of my dead grandfather turning off the TV that was left turned on, of one of our dead relatives sitting comfortably on the sofa at midnight, of feeling a heavy weight pressed on my shoulders while sleeping, and of the infamous moth flying around our heads every November 1 and 19 (my grandfather’s death anniversary).

The weird thing is, during those moments that I experienced them, I didn’t feel scared like I thought I would be. Maybe because it really takes a while before something sinks in to me. Like my mind is just too slow or too tired to react and tell me, “Hey stupid, that’s a ghost!”

Forgive me guys for sharing this generic topic. You see, I grew up watching Are You Afraid of the Dark? and had always fancied the idea of a group of friends surrounding a bonfire, telling frightening tales to each other.

This is the new Midnight Society. Do you have any tale to share?