To all those who celebrate or at least have fun with the each year’s Halloween - Happy Halloween to you. I used to be a strong believer of ghosts and the paranormal back in the old days and while I still can’t explain some of the weird stuff that I experienced in my life, I’m now more inclined to search for practical and logical explanations to things.
Anyway, for the sake of the spirit of Halloween, allow me to share on of my own personal ghost stories…
I was only 6 years old and we were living in an apartment in Coronado Heights Subdivision in Mandaluyong. I won’t tell the exact address for the sake of the apartment owner’s privacy and business but I will tell you that one of the room sin that apartment seems to have something weird going on in it. It was the only room in the house that feels eerie and we were not the only ones to have noticed it - previous and current residents of the apartment report the same.
My mom sleeps in this room but I slept in my grandmother’s room since I was afraid of this supposedly haunted room. One day however, I was convinced (can’t remember if it was my mom or my aunt who convinced me) to sleep in this dark, humid and really weird feeling room and little did I know that I was about too experience one of the most horrifying experiences in my life.
Moments passed by and I wasn’t able to sleep. My mom was already deep in her slumber but I stayed awake thinking of my “crush” Susan. I was somehow thinking about next day’s playtime hoping to play the game Doctor Quack-quack so I could touch Susan’s hands. While I was fantasizing, I had this weird and cold feeling that someone was looking at me by the window. Though I knew it was impossible for someone to be looking at me from outside the window because the room was at the second floor of the house, my childhood curiosity still took control of me.
To my horror, I saw what looks like a decaying head (no body at all) staring at me. I screamed loudly shouting, “mommy, mommy, may pugot sa bintana!” (mommy, mommy, there’s a floating head at the window!). My mom immediately woke up, looked at the window and so nothing but I was so sure that it was there. My mom consoled me and said taht I was just having a nightmare.
The next day, I told my experience to the rest of the family and my friends and eventually realized that I was not the only one to experience such weird things in that room. Some stories say ghosts were seen floating outside the window while others claim to suffer regular nightmares sleeping in that room. Years after, I went back to that subdivision hoping to meet some old friends and had a chance to ask around and found out that just about every tenant of that apartment complains that the room is haunted.











Most people I know are brought up in an environment wherein doing the “right thing” is highly encouraged. Furthermore, they are frowned upon when they make mistakes. On the other hand, I was raised by my family to learn from my mistakes. In other words, they do not look down on me when I do something wrong. Rather, they ask me the question “what went wrong?” and allow me to analyze the things I did and what could have I done to make it better.Which is better? I don’t think I’m in the place to judge which method is best as there will always be grey areas when it comes to matters like this. However, allow me to speak from my experience…