Monday, February 23, 2015

MICHAEL.




We lived in an ancestral house built by my Great grandfather, Jose, and was passed on and inherited by my mom 20 years ago. I knew that my mother had the gift (or curse?) of seeing unusual beings, spirits, "agtas", and the like. She used to tell me stories about small people wandering and giggling inside our old ,native home. The ability to see the supernatural and the ability to communicate with them never gave me a fun experience. At least, I thought I would not be bestowed this "third-eye". 

I kept hearing little voices. I saw my uncle trying to get up from bed but couldn't move a single part of his body. Little people kept his arms and feet glued on our old "lantay". For some reasons, while watching TV, my electric fan buttons are being switched from 1 to 3, 3 to 2, vice versa. I got used to it. I got immune with the reality that I had to face each encounter with them. My family had no choice but to have me blessed and prayed over by our town priest nearly several years before I graduated high school.

Let me share this experience I had. I used to have nocturia so I had no choice but to get up at least 5 times a night to pee. While trying to pull up my trousers, I saw a man standing right in front of me. I was 13 back then. He was on an old barong sequenced with purple patches lining his button line. I couldn't see his face. I wanted to shout and run. I was thinking it was all part of my imagination. Running away was the best option still. I had to catch my breath as I crawl into bed while my mom was sound asleep. I whispered to my mom silently but, she wouldn't believe what I had just seen. And so I let it go. Exactly a week after, a neighbor reported about my close friend's death who studied and stayed in the city for quite sometime. I was in total disbelief. We haven't seen each other for almost 2 years but, we had a lot of memories together. He drowned while on an outing somewhere in Lapu-lapu along with two other friends. We were all clueless why it had to be so sudden. Why amongst three of them, he had bruises all over his body, a lump on his head, and a scar on his abdomen. The marks were left as if someone had hit him so hard and stabbed him to death. Autopsy results verified that indeed, someone have abused and drowned him. 

His dead body was brought to the province. Michael's house was just a block away from ours so I spent most of my time taking a peek of him inside that white coffin he's in. Several days after, I noticed a change on his appearance. I looked into his forehead, no, it wasn't it. I took a quick glance on his barong; another second look. There were purple patches inked on it as if someone had colored the shirt overnight. It was the exact barong I saw a week before his death.. It is Michael; it was him who wanted to send me a message. A message about his impending death and his soul slowly leaving the universe. On the same night, I dreamt of him. He was talking in words I could not understand clearly. All I know is, he wanted to tell me that someone is about to die; I immediately called up my mom and informed her about this dream. His family brought a small pot and dropped it on Michael's coffin on the day of his burial. In the primitive times, people believed that a man's soul may not be in peace if justice hasn't been served before his death. Relative to this, an evil spirit will take another soul and the chain goes on and on. To break this, a pot must be dropped on the dead person's coffin.

A month after Michael's death, his brother died due to asthma. It was a horrible experience we all had to deal. The ritual didn't work but, we continued to pray. We prayed in faith and believed that the Lord will take care of everything and that he will put Michael's soul in peace. More than a decade had passed since I last visited Michael's tomb and I am confident that he is now in God's hands.

I still had to go on with my life after all. I still saw white ladies, heard babies crying in our university corridor, bumped into a lady at night that suddenly disappeared, and all sorts of horror you can think of. I talked to some of them. When the priest blessed me with the Lord's shield, I began to think that these beings are simply part of my life and that mind-setting and faith can overcome my fears. I did. And I continued living a normal life.