(Image is AI generated)
I twisted and turned while on our bed. I did not mind the hardness of the bamboo bed on my back. All I wanted was to take the blanket on my feet that time because it had been unusually cold for a summer month. Not only the atmosphere was prickly and icy, but it was also eerily heavy.
It was the month of May in 1998. I was eight years old. We went home to my father’s province to live there for good. It was the first time we had met Uncle Rene.
He was a nice and diligent guy. He worked as a farmer, but despite that, he was always generous to us.
One day—his birthday—he told our grandmother that he had to work across a river at a relative’s farm. When my father and Uncle Jun heard that, they stopped him, saying it might be dangerous for him. One of the superstitious beliefs in the Philippines was that those celebrating their birthday, or those whose birth date was just around the corner, were prone to danger; therefore, they must stay home and not go anywhere.
Uncle Rene shrugged at his siblings’ warning; instead, he still went off with his plowing machine.
That afternoon, when I was at school, one of my classmates ran to me and said,
“Your uncle Rene had an accident!”
Shocked, I rushed home since our house was only some meters away from school.
When I got there, I only saw Mama, my siblings, and my cousins. Grandma, Father, and Uncle Jun were at the hospital.
I didn’t go back to school then. I stayed home with my family and waited for any news about our uncle.
Night time came, and it was a little creepy for us since Mama was the only adult in the house. Uncle Rene’s dog, Brownie, kept barking at the stock of newly harvested sacks of rice where his battery-run radio was placed. The dog’s tail waggled, a common gesture he had whenever he saw Uncle Rene. He was excited and happy. But the thing was, his master wasn’t there.
' So, who was he barking happily at?'
Goosebumps crawled all over my body when Mama and I peeked at the dog. Mobile phones were not yet accessible then, so we didn’t have any idea what was happening at the hospital. It was almost midnight when Father arrived with a piece of unpleasant news.
“Rene passed away,” he said with a blank stare.
I was young, and still couldn’t process what I heard. But I had a glimpse of the unsaid poignant words Father was holding back. He was trying his best not to break down.
After a week, we sent Uncle Rene to his last resting place. We only had met him a few days since we went to the province. We were getting to know him, but he was gone just like that. Tragically like that. I heard from the elders that the rakes of his plowing machine hit his stomach and damaged his organs, which caused his sudden demise.
It had only been a few days after his burial. And on the seventh night, my mind screamed the thought that someone was staring at me.
I got up to pick up the blanket. But when I looked behind me, I froze. Someone was standing at the door! I knew what I saw because the room was bright.
My mind also stopped working that time; I didn’t even bother to think about where the light was coming from, despite knowing that the room should’ve been pitch black then.
I shared the room and the spacious bamboo bed with my parents and siblings.
I gathered all the courage to stare back at the man standing at the door beside Uncle Rene’s radio—we brought it into our room.
It took me a little while to recognize who it was.
‘Father?’
No. It couldn’t be him because when I looked at where he should be lying down, he was there, beside Mama. My brain was pulling tricks on me.
Chills ran down my spine. I hurriedly pulled the blanket, covered my siblings beside me, and hid under it.
A few moments after recovery, I peeked while still under the blanket. When I lifted the covers, the man was still there. And he was staring at me with somber eyes. He was wearing white long sleeves and a pair of black pants. He looked like my father. However, something on his face made me realize he was someone else.
He had two dark swollen eye bags!
It was the feature that made him distinct from my father. Papa didn’t have those… only Uncle Rene!
When that thought struck me, I hid under the blanket again. But while in hiding, questions flooded my mind.
‘Why was he in our room?’
‘How long does he plan to stay?’
‘What does he need?’
For the second time, I urged my cowardly self to be strong. I peeked again, and Uncle Rene was nowhere to be found. He vanished!
Making sure that he was no longer around, I woke my father up.
“Pa, is your flashlight switched on?” I asked. He used to sleep with his flashlight every night. In case he would need them, he could instantly get it.
He responded, “No. Why?”
“I was just wondering why the room is so bright.”
“It’s the moonlight. It’s a full moon,” he said, pointing at the huge triangular gap between the roof and the wall of our room.
I didn’t respond because my brain was still processing the realization that I just saw my uncle’s ghost. I never told my parents about that experience until I was an adult.
May your late uncle continue to rest in peace. That was a chilling thing to experience for a child of your age back then. Things like this happen when a loved one suddenly leaves this world.
I have had a very similar occurrence with a very close friend who died when I was a little girl.
I remembered crying, though I had only known my uncle for a week or two. He was so kind to us. I hope he is at peace now.
Thank you for reading my story.
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You’ve handled this story so very well—in most cases ghost stories are easily scoffed at, but yours comes across as eerily real and otherworldly.
Your tone is perfect and we hardly question the visitation, rather, we look to our own experiences and find something similar to nod our head in agreement to. Masterfully told!
Thank you for appreciating my story ^_^
It must be a very chilling experience to look at the ghost of a deceased relative, I think I would have run away to my parents asking for help.
Thanks for sharing your experience with us.
Good day.
Hello.
To be honest, I have seen ghosts several times, and whenever I do, I always freeze. It seems that my brain has no power to think when I'm scared. Seeing ghosts always immobilizes me.
Thank you for reading. ^_^
Ghosts witnesses are mocked or ignored most of the time. However, there are thousands of stories about them looking at strange things at night.
Nice story. Long time without seeing you around :)
Thank you for reading.
It's been a while indeed. My creative juice ran out for some time, and I needed a break to refill.
Seeing ghosts, not just once but several times would make you believe their existence. Have you seen one before?
Hope your creativity is full now✅️
I have😅
Looking forward to reading more from you!
I can't promise that, but I'll do my best to post frequently again.
Thank you for reading and appreciating my story. ^_^
Yay! 🤗
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Wow... did he ever come back? I'm sorry you never had a chance to get to know him, by the way :(
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@wrestlingdesires It was sad, but after a few days with him, I could say that my uncle is a good person. We can't really say how long a person's life would last.
Thank you for curating my story.
I'm glad you were able to meet him :) Maybe he just came back to say goodbye...
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It's so sad you never got the chance to really know him. May his soul continue to rest in peace.
Thank you for sharing your story.
#dreemerforlife
Thank you for taking the time to read my post, and for your kind wishes for my uncle.
Wow. So emotional. I couldn't believe this is in reality. So sorry about your Uncle, even though it has been long it happened but the experience brought back memories. It's hard wanting to start knowing someone but had to leave to an unknown place where it isn't guaranteed they are returning. Sorry about that.
I popped in through #dreemport
Thank you for reading and appreciating my story. It was sad indeed, but as I was a child then and couldn't really understand what death meant, I was able to move on. Bu t I always remember him.
You are welcome
Ghosts, I have heard stories from my friends on having an encounter with one. Though I haven't seen any for myself, I have felt their presence. The heavy heart and the strange eerie feeling.
Your story was beautiful told and each word is incredibly written.
Hello dearest fashionable dreemer. Happy new week to you. A new day has come, and so did Celine say. And I know you are going to the very best with it. You are truly a gem, and I am glad I came across this post. Have a good day, and paint the world with your smile as always. I waltzed in from #dreemport, for I am an amazing #dreemer. An awesomely made #dreemerforlife.
Aww... My heart is melting as I read your message. You are a gem yourself as well. Thank you for taking the time to read my story and for the warm wishes, too.
Keep safe ^_^
Hehe, i am glad it did. You deserve the sweetness it brings.
You are welcome 😊.
Maybe it was your Uncle Rene who you had seen that night or maybe it was your little mind playing tricks on you. Just maybe.
Reading this gave me little chills. I can't imagine how it would have been for someone younger. But I see you're a brave one. How did you even manage to sleep well that night?? I assume sleep didn't come easy.
Meanwhile, you write so well. I enjoyed every bit of this.
Well-done!
#dreemerforlife
@cheeamaka I didn't sleep then haha. I waited till the morning came.
Thank you for reading my story and for the compliment. ^_^