darkandcurious

[darkandcurious]

Story 2: When death says “Hi” (A True Story)

Note: This story was first published in audio form. Listen to it on Spotify or on Youtube.

Hello, Darlings I'm Willow, and you’re reading the Dark and Curious Blog.

How’s your Halloween celebration been this year? The COVID-19 pandemic is far from over. I hope you don’t let your guard down and you’re still keeping yourselves healthy and safe.

I know many of you miss the festivities, especially during these months. I am not fond of parties, but I like that the All Hallows’ Eve spirit still lives on. To be honest, I’m more excited about Halloween than any other holiday we have. Even more than my birthday

While I sit and think about what could have been without the pandemic, something reminds me that death lurks around the corner. I decided to share my personal experience because no one knows when death will come to take us away. This might not be as scary as you expect it to be. But as someone who experienced it and realized things could have turned out differently, I was afraid, or in this case, I was afraid for my life.

Please know that my parents retold the following events. Still, the experience I’ve had is all from what I remember. And this is how it began…

It happened during the early ’90s when I spent much time in my pediatrician’s clinic because of constant re-infection in my respiratory tract. To make the story short, I was a sickly child back then. My parents thought I was just clumsy and couldn’t sit still because, you know, I was just a kid. We didn’t know what was wrong with me. But I recently learned that I had a rare condition called Sydenham Chorea, affecting children in developing countries like the Philippines.

Anyway, it all started when I was six years old. My involuntary movements became so excessive, and my health was rapidly declining. So my parents decided to have me checked by a specialist. I spent much time confined in the University of Santo Tomas Hospital. We live in the province, so the hospital served as my “home away from home”. The doctors already knew my family and me because we had stayed there for so long. I knew it was hard for my parents to see me that way. The hospital bills that kept piling up even made it worse. At that time, I had no clue that my dad had to sell his firearm so we’d have money for the bills and the rest of our expenses. It was rather costly, but we had no choice.

It got so bad that I had to be taken to the Intensive Care Unit. The infection led to a cardiac complication that had to be treated immediately. And that’s when things worsened— I had a 50% chance to live and a 50% chance that I wouldn’t make it. Of course, I didn’t know this then. The only thing I remember was that I had a vivid dream in the middle of the chaos we were in. It was so vivid that I heard the night sounds, I could smell the familiar scent of our house, and could see my siblings sleeping soundly. I was surprised I was home and walking around the house that night.

I remember that my youngest sister likes sleeping alone on the bed. So when she was awoken by something (which I didn’t know what), she cried and pushed grandma away, who was then sleeping beside her. Grandma, who was as surprised as my sister, blurted out, “Oh, why don’t you want me here?!!”, still reeling from waking up suddenly.

That seemed odd. Why would Grandma sleep beside my sister? My grandparents live in their own house. It was even more strange that my mom and dad were not there. They were with me through it all.

But It’s just my grandmother and my siblings. I tried to talk to my sister, telling her to stop crying. But she wouldn’t stop. And my dream suddenly ended. I woke up still in my hospital bed and hospital gown—that’s when I knew that I didn’t come home. Or so I thought.

When I woke up, I told my mom I dreamed about home, Nanay, and my siblings.

Since I’ve had that dream, I believed it was just that. A dream. Little did I know that all this time, that event took place while I was fighting for dear life.

[darkandcurious]

Story 1: Strands of Hair and Figures on the Wall (True Story)

Note: Story was first published in audio form. Listen to it on Spotify or through YouTube.

It was one typical night. My son’s sleeping soundly in our bedroom, and I, on the other hand, just got back — My wife leaves at 2 AM for work every day. The neighborhood we live in isn’t exactly that safe, so I have to come with her every time, at least to where she waits for the shuttle.

It’s still quite early for me to do some chores around the house, and the neighbors might complain about the noise, so I decided to just sleep it off. You might be wondering if it was me who stays at home while my wife goes to work — well, I just lost my job then, and no one’s going to take care of our kid. So anyway, I went back to bed and laid down beside my son. Soon enough, I was on my way to the land of oblivion.

I wasn't entirely sure how long I'd been sleeping then until I heard the leaky bathroom faucet. Tick, tick, tick, tick. The dropping of water on the sink was pretty annoying. I focused on the rhythmic drop until it almost lulled me back to sleep.

Then I suddenly felt the urge to look behind me. I sleep on my belly, and at the time, it’s as if some unseen force that I can’t control made me turn my head and look. And there she was, her face, framed with long black hair, looking at me from my back. I froze as fear slowly crept up my spine, and my hair stood on end as I realized her hollow black eyes had been staring at me while I slept. And she was not my wife. I grabbed my son and hugged him tight while I shut my eyes for fear that she might hurt him. “Stay away from us!” I told her. “This isn’t your place!”, hoping she’d leave us alone.

I waited with my eyes still closed and still clinging on to my son, who’s surprisingly still sleeping through all of it. Then I slowly opened my eyes, and to my surprise, she was still there. Only this time, she’s at the corner of our bedroom. She’s in this white flowing dress, her face looking ashen, still blankly staring at me with her hollow, dark eyes. She wasn’t saying or doing anything. She’s just looking at us. I told her once again, “Stay away! You’re not welcome here!”. At that point, I didn’t care anymore if my neighbors would think I was going crazy. I just want her to leave. So I closed my eyes again, still hugging my son, while I uttered a silent prayer. And just like that, I fell asleep again as if nothing had happened.

The sun finally rose, and I was awakened by the loud ranting of one of my friends, Luke (also not his real name). He was complaining about the mess he had to clean up. I got curious—he rarely complains about trivial things. I thought it was just one of those situations where he and his buddies drink on some nights, and he had to clean up the morning after.

I went over to his place to just say hi and tell him to chill. I didn’t really understand why he was making such a fuss about it until he showed me the many strands of long black hair on the apartment’s white-tiled floor. It’s quite normal to find hair strands on the floor because my wife sometimes has loose strands. But Luke lives with his brother, and they both didn’t have partners back then. I find it really odd;  there shouldn’t be any long hair strands inside the house as no lady was living with or visiting them.