My uncle just died. And since the day of his death, stories of ‘sightings’ have plagued our small community. People seeing him sitting on a wooden chair outside their house have started to come out. And for this reason, we now go home in ‘batches’. No one leaves or goes home alone.
Knowing how good a prankster he was when he was still alive, everyone knew that he’s bound to do ‘something’ to scare us all. Just last night, my cousin heard his footsteps walking up and down their stairs at three in the morning. No one else was awake during that time.
My other uncle too, who passed by my uncle’s house one night, saw someone watching the TV. The movie playing on screen was my dead uncle’s favorite movie. No one else was at home during that time.
Because of these stories, my cousins and I have been temporarily displaced. Manang couldn’t sleep on her own in her room. Onyot and I couldn’t sleep in ours either. So, we would usually sleep in manang’s one-bed room in packs of five or six now just in case.
Aside from being pussies, all of us have become paranoia kings.
One cousin said, “Hey, it smells like the hospital in here. Uncle, please don’t scare us!”. It turned out that someone just used rubbing alcohol.
Two more cousins from Leyte will arrive today. So, I’d expect to sleep in a room with seven other people.
Alimuot baya!!!!