THE GHOST

I was sure I locked the main door, as I always do before going to bed at night. But what was this that has awakened me? Eerie sounds of footsteps walking on the narrow corridor. Seemingly, some whispering that could hardly be heard as if coming from afar. Gurgling and scratching noises coming from outside the hallway.

It must be a big rat crawling under the floor ceiling, I told myself in an attempt to be logical. But no, i I was hearing the door opening and closing in no regular pattern. My heart started beating so fast and my bones were getting weak. I was sweating but felt real cold.

Could a robber have found a way to enter my house? I braced myself for the best next move, for I was alone in the house and I had to rely on myself. Should the thief knock on my door, I would open it bravely, turn my back on him then courageously instruct him to just blindfold me while taking everything he could for as long as he spared my life.

But no robber knocked. At that point, I heard the opening and closing of the door of the comfort room. Afterwards, I heard water dripping from the faucet. Someone must be there but how could anyone be there when my main door was securely locked? I had goose pimples, my heart beat faster, cold sweat broke out of my brows and I could hardly breath.

I pinched myself intensely hoping that I was just dreaming, but I was fully awake. I even checked the time on my cellphone. It was 11:46p.m., almost midnight.

Could it be a ghost? Are ghosts real? I prayed hard, even shielded myself with the protective white light of Christ. Praying was the only thing I could practically do at the moment. "Sanctus Desus, Sanctus Potes, Sanctus Immortales, miserere nobis (Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, pray for us)". My mother always uttered that prayer whenever she felt danger around. Could it be the ghost of a friend who sent me text message earlier in the night, saying he was feeling numb all over his body and could hardly breath? He was requesting for help, but I didn't even know his address, and so I just suggested some practical relaxing procedures. But still I felt guilty, and now I was scared that he could have died of a heart attack and his ghost was paying me a visit. Or could it be the ghost of an aunt or a cousin who both died recently?

At any rate, I decided to talk to the ghost to ask what it needed or wanted to say. But later I chose instead to remain very quiet, while trying as much as I could to keep my composure and presence of mind. I thought of sending text messages to my friends outside, to call the police. On second thought, I felt afraid that it would alarm and create a scandal in the whole neighborhood and eventually the whole community. I continued praying amid sounds of doors opening and closing every now and then.

About half an hour later, the whole house became very quiet. The robber or the ghost must have left the house. I felt the silence of an empty tomb. I didn't know why, but suddenly I felt brave. I stood up, got my ball pen and notepad.

I decided to put in writing the experience so that just in case I died that night, people will have some reference to start an investigation.

But my room was too crowded and there was no table where I could write. Gathering all valor in my body, I decided to go out of my room and do the writing at the family hall where my office table was. The moment I was out, I was temporarily stunned and had more goose bumps: there was light in my son's room. But my newfound courage failed me. I couldn't rush in there. So, very slowly and cautiously, I opened the door and there I saw the rat, the robber and the ghost --rolled into one person, my wife, who even gestured to me to keep quiet. Oh my God!!!

As it turned out, my wife and her sister, who I thought were in Manila, had attended a wake at the next town and decided to proceed and spend the night at our ancestral house in the province where I was vacationing. Discovering that the main door was already locked, she awakened the gardener who was sleeping at the stockroom. From there, a small door was directly connected to the dirty kitchen of the ground floor. From the dirty kitchen, they easily found their way to the second floor where I was sleeping.

Careful not to awaken me for fear that I may not be able to sleep again, they made their way upstairs very slowly -- like a rat, a ghost and a robber groping in the dark