An essay on I don't believe in ghosts
Answers
I don’t believe in ghosts. Do you? Well, let me tell you a story. Years ago I lived in this building where I live now, only on a lower floor. My home then was in another country, so I occupied that unit only occasionally. My son lived in Canlubang with his small family.
One evening, at about six o’clock, I entered the front door from where one could see directly into the bedroom. Light from the street lit the room. I thought I saw a woman with disheveled hair sitting on top of the bed and looking at me with big, sad eyes. Despite the dim light, I could see she was smallish and dark-skinned. When I approached, she disappeared. This happened twice: I saw the figure sitting on the bed, looking at me, and then vanishing. I didn’t tell anyone.
My daughter-in-law, who came around to check on things, told me that we had an eerie presence in the apartment. She said she was taking a bath and she heard loud knocking on the door, but when she opened it, no one was there. I told her that sometimes, noise from somewhere reflects inside one’s unit. She looked at me skeptically and said, “I think I would know, that from the sound, it wouldn’t have been anywhere else but on that door.” And she pointed to my bathroom door.