It’s that time of year again. Time for Philippine Ghost Stories…
I did this last year when I came back from my trip to Asia. I saw a series of books at National Bookstore while in Manila and thought it was interesting. I always enjoyed ghost stories. When we were little, there were plenty of times when power would go out in our neighborhood. The kids would then gather ’round a few candles while the adults tell stories of ghosts and gobblins. Just imagining the effects of the shadows being casted by the candles onto the walls while listening to those stories gives me the goosebumps to this very day.
To my readers – I am going to tell stories lifted from the “True Philipppine Ghost Stories Book 1″, with proper credit to the authors of course. I will pick the ones that I thought are scary enough to make the tip of your hair stand and share it with you. Isn’t that what we crave for before All Soul’s Day?
Here’s Story Number 1: A Whisper from the Dead
Read the story and watch the Paranormal VIDEO after the JUMP
A whisper from the dead. as told to Jherry Barrinuevo
My Grandmother was a faith healer, a powerful one, according to my titas and my cousins.
She was probably the one from whom I inherited my ability to see and sense the supernatural. And this would explain the affinity I shared with her.
My lola and I were so close. I would spend endless hours by her side, watching her as she performed and healed her patients.
I would see her extract bugs and other disgusting stuff from the mouths of her patients as she healed them.
I would often peek into her baul (storage chest) and wonder at the weird stuff it contained like potions, herbs and a hanky which bore a pentagram. She identified all these things to me.
It was a very painful experience for me to witness her death at the hospital.
I saw how doctors tried to revive her, their desperate efforts to bring her back to life. But their efforts were futile. It was really my lola’s time to leave this world.
My family and I grieved at my lola’s hospital bed, especially me, because I was her pet. I cried and cried, because I knew I would never see her again, never be able to talk with her again.
Little did I know, I WAS WRONG.
My family became busy preparing for her burial. They argued over where to bury her, what coffin to use, and what my grandmother would wear inside her coffin.
I was there listening to them argue about the dress. Suddenly, while the rest of my family stood bickering, I heard a whisper, a whisper which did not come from the people who were talking. It was my lola’s voice!
I listened very carefully to what the voice was saying. She was telling me that what she wanted to wear was a green polka-dot dress, the one that had butterfly sleeves like the ternos that former First Lady Imelda Marcos used to wear.
Though my hair stood on end, I relayed the message that my lola gave me.
“Mom, does Lola have a green polka-dot terno?”, I asked.
“How did you know your Lola had that dress?”, my mother asked in astonishment.
“She whispered it to me. She wants you to put that one on her mom.”, I answered.
At that my family stopped arguing and decided that the green polka-dot dress would be the dress my lola will wear.
