Prudence and Madness

A Roundup of Scary Stories
November 1, 2007, 10:28
Filed under: Lifelogs | Tags: , , , ,

Say, it’s Halloween and it’s one of my favorite holidays, though here in the Philippines, we do celebrate it differently than how I would like it. I don’t know. I’m not that fond of scary shit but I just like that atmosphere of people talking about scary shit. I usually get scared easily, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I like gothic stuff, sometimes I don’t. It’s really strange, ’tis love for Halloween and all things scary.

So, in celebration of Halloween in this blog (since I’m bereft of my main blog due to its exceeded bandwidth limit error which I think is hacker-induced), I’m telling you some scary stories, two of which I have directly experienced myself, and the other one, I’ve been involved somehow. After all, most of us do get the kicks out of telling scary stories and making others jump out of their skins. Haha.
Let’s begin.

* * * * *

Spirit of the Glass

Back in the days when I was still an impressionable teen in high school, my friends and I, after a cheerleading practice, decided to have a game of “spirit of the glass” in one of the empty townhouses in the subdivision. I think we were around 8 people then and the sun was about to set.

I have forgotten how we started the game. All I remember was that we settled in the garage and seated ourselves in a circle, with our makeshift Ouija board in the middle. We weren’t taking it seriously really and were just asking some funny, pointless questions, mostly answerable by a yes or a no, like if we’re going to get married, or if one will win at the lottery.

But when we’ve decided to ask the board some really personal questions, which aren’t voiced out at all and the board began answering almost accurately, we all felt scared, perhaps because how could anyone know what the other person was thinking and know the answer to such a question? And questions that were asked were mostly of the kind that the only person who could answer it was the person who asked the question.

The only one question I remembered asking the board was: when did I start my menstrual period? This is something I know that most of the people in the circle didn’t know, even my two bestfriends.

And just imagine the shock that I had when I barely finished asking the question in my mind and the glass moved smoothly and surely towards the number 9. I had my menarche at the age of 9. And I swear my finger was only barely touching the glass, like what the others were doing, and yet the glass continued to move to 9 and hovered there, drawing a circle and then settling on the spot.

Then, we started asking the board to predict the future: What are the initials of the person I’m going to marry? What school am I going to for college? What year will I go to the U.S.? Some of the answers were clear, while others were vague. Sometimes the glass wouldn’t move at all.

In the end, we asked the spirit its name.

It spelled B-E-E-L-Z-

We didn’t finish the reading of the next letters of the name because, frankly, those first five letters were scary enough that we all scampered away from the place. I remember that it seemed the wind was colder and harsher that night.

The next day, though frightened, we returned to the “scene of the crime”. Our makeshift Ouija board was gone and there were glass splinters and pieces on the garage floor. Probably the night wind blew the things away.

And we went on with our lives after that. However, I can’t help but look back at that time of our lives, especially when one of my bestfriends (who was also there at the game) died 3 months after being diagnosed of leukemia (and only several months after that game). It seemed that one way or another, all of us who were in that game experienced some sort of unfortunate incident in our lives, with one attempting suicide, another being miserable all the time, and another whose family suffered bankruptcy.

I do not claim that having played the game made us all unlucky. It could all be coincidence. Or perhaps we disturbed something in the place that caused a lot of negative energies that influenced our behavior. It could be just ideomotor effect. I really do not know. But I think, this experience has become one of the reasons why I’m interested in knowing more of the paranormal, to debunk or to explain whatever such experiences bring.

* * * * *

The House By the Cliff

I think it was the summer of 2002 that my high school friends and I went to Baguio for a vacation. A friend borrowed a company guest house nestled somewhere in Benguet. We had a Dodge van (a “roving motel” I call it, because of the color of lights inside and the way those lights were placed inside the vehicle and also because of the seats that can be converted to one large bed) that can accommodate all of us and take us to the places we wanted to visit and a driver to boot. What more can we ask for then, right?

One night, we came home from a gimmick at Padi’s Point. I remember that we weren’t drunk then but we’re all extremely sleepy, probably because of the cold. But it wasn’t really a problem anyway since there’s the driver to take us home.

We turned the seats into a bed and we were all lying down at the back of the van. Some were already snoozing but I remember Serj and I being awake still (and, of course, the driver). Then I noticed that the van began a series of running and stopping short then running again. I wondered what the problem was but didn’t ask the driver. I didn’t think it’s because he was sleepy because he had plenty enough sleep before going out. I looked out of the window through the blinds but didn’t see much because of some night fog. All I can see was that we’re traveling alone on that road that night. That’s when I started panicking inside. What would happen to us if we get stuck in the middle of the road? Who could we ask help from? We’re all strangers to the area and we don’t know anyone.

Then, suddenly, the van stopped. The driver told us that we just stay inside the van and he’s just resting for a few minutes. And so we didn’t go out. And my mind felt quiet again, thinking that it’s probably just because of the driver’s sleepiness that’s why the van was moving that way. A little nap is all he needed.

Again, I looked out of the window through the blinds and saw that we stopped by some house with a lamp post in front and a gated driveway. I didn’t think it was a good idea stopping right in front of that house, perhaps because the owners might think we’re stalking their house or something. I just went back to half-sleeping and half-chatting with Serj, who didn’t really appear worried at all (or maybe he just didn’t mind because he’s sleepy).

After about 10 minutes or so, I felt that we were moving again. And after a while, the rest of the group awakened, perhaps sensing that we’re nearing our house. When we got to the house, I wasn’t able to ask the driver anymore as to what happened back there because I was already aching to get to bed.

The next day, as we’re going down to the city again, we passed by that road. I looked out, trying to search for the house where we stopped at the night before but did not find any. In fact, the road going down from our house in Benguet to the city proper was bordered by a mountain and a cliff on the other side. There were no houses on the mountain near the road. And of course, there were no houses on the cliff side of the road. The most that I’ve seen was a waiting shed, and there wasn’t even a lamp post.

A talk with the driver later enlightened me as to what happened the night before. He said that the reason why the van was stopping short and then running again was because he had to step on the brakes several times because the road in front of the van suddenly vanishes. He would stop the van when he doesn’t see the road and then move again when he sees the road again. And yes, he did see the house with the gated driveway and lamp post too and thought of stopping there waiting for the road to be “normal” again. He also agreed that it seemed weird that we didn’t pass any house near the road on our way down to the city proper.

Did we just get lost or somebody tried getting us lost?

* * * * *

The Hitchhiker

Every Saturday night, my high school friends and I usually have our beer-drinking, movie-watching sessions at Serj’s house. Of course, that would take us into the wee hours of the morning. And going home, I usually get ride with either AJ and Jo or with Ram or whoever brought wheels that night.

One night, I hitched a ride with AJ and Jo and they drove me home. My house is situated at the very far end of the subdivision. But since they’re my friends and they’re all used to how creepy my place could be at night, they don’t mind driving me home there.

Jo stopped the car in front of the house. I got down while saying thanks for driving me as far up as my home and then they waited for me to open the gate and get in. Then they sped away.

After doing my nightly rituals and settling myself on bed, I received a text message from AJ. She was asking if I was okay. I said I was okay. Why wouldn’t I be?

Then she said, when I got down from the car and was going to the gate, she saw a white hand holding the back of her seat, near her left shoulder. She thought it was my hand but then I was already at the gate.

So whose hand was it?

* * * * *

For one part, I believe that there could be “ghosts” or “wandering spirits” out there. For now, our definition of “ghosts” and “spirits” are limited to such but perhaps, in the future, it may be explained that these ghosts could be just residual energies of the former living or maybe energies emanating from living beings such as ourselves. And so, when that time comes, “ghosts” could become just another name for “residual electrical energies” or something like that. Who knows?

I’m keeping an open-mind on this one, because, frankly, I think we really do not understand fully just yet the phenomenon dubbed as “supernatural” or “paranormal”. Wouldn’t it be exciting if compelling evidences will be found that could prove or trash the idea that “ghosts” exist as we know it today?

How about you? What scary stories would you like to share?


7 Comments so far
Leave a comment

those were not scary at all cant you guys keep up with the present instead of the past

Comment by nicole

to nicole:

What may not be scary for you could be scary for somebody else. Also, I don’t find anything wrong with remembering the past. It doesn’t take you away from the present anyway. I think people who’d find trouble with looking back at the past are those who have something in their past that they are ashamed of and do not want to be associated with, especially if it’s dangerous to connect it with the present.

Comment by Prudence

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Comment by celebrity fuck you

Markedly well executed post

Comment by center

What a really fun blog post.

Comment by הורדות

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