Monday, September 11, 2006
Things That Made Me Go, Hmmm!
The men’s toilet on the 20th floor of our building is situated at the end of a long corridor. Because there are four different tenants on the same floor (including our company), the bathroom is a fairly busy enough place, with people coming and going.
Around Tuesday last week, I was brushing my teeth right after lunch; my officemate was also brushing his teeth at the sink to my left. When I bent forward to spit into the sink, I felt a gentle gust of wind brush my right ear. I looked up immediately; to my right is already the wall. I stared at the ceiling, looking for an air conditioner vent. My officemate noticed the puzzled look on my face and my looking around, and simply said: “Hindi. Meron.”
I immediately knew what he meant. You see, that particular officemate of mine is extra-sensitive to things supernatural; he can sense a presence more acutely than most.
“Really?” I asked. “Where?”
“He’s now standing by the door. He likes to do that a lot—blow on someone’s ear.”
I stared at the door. There was no one. I couldn’t even feel or sense anything. “What does he look like?” I asked.
“An old man in black.”
“How come only now?” I asked. “Whenever I’m here by myself nothing happens.”
He shrugged. “I dunno.”
I finished brushing my teeth. “Well, at least I can now say I’ve experienced a physical manifestation of an unearthly presence,” I told my officemate then quickly stepped out of the bathroom before he could.
* * * * *
Friday evening I arrived home very late to find the lock to my door partially stuck. It would only go in half of the way; if I forced the door closed, I’d be stuck inside my room. My towel, which I often leave on the chair near my bed, was missing. I thought, someone who came in and took the towel—most probably to have it washed—must have turned the knob too hard and got the lock stuck. Since it was past midnight and everyone else was asleep, I decided to just leave things as is.
Next morning the lock was still partially stuck. I went to my mom who was in the kitchen and asked her, “The lock on my door is stuck. Do you know who went into my room?” My mom went to check out the problem for herself. My sister was watching TV in the living room; I decided to stay there instead.
Several minutes later my mom came back to the living room and said, “Now your door cannot be locked shut.” Apparently my mom forced the door closed—and trapped herself inside my room. She called for help to no avail, because we couldn’t hear her above the noise of the TV. Good thing she saw a cutter and a pen on my table; using them she was able to MacGyver her way out. Unfortunately in the process, the lock was now stuck all the way inside. Even if one shut the door, a gust of wind can easily swing it open.
What a hassle, I told myself, but because it was a lazy Saturday morning I decided I’d just buy a new lock later that afternoon. So I watched TV for a few more minutes, checked my email then headed for my room to inspect the damage.
The door was closed. I turned the knob. It was fine. The lock was unstuck and working properly. I tested it a couple of times. It was as if last night and this morning never happened.
I went back to my mom in the kitchen. “My lock is fixed now. Did you do anything to it?”
She shook her head. “When I left it, it was stuck way inside. And I’ve been here in the kitchen the whole time since.”
My sister was in the living room still watching TV. My younger brother was in his room. Neither of them would dare enter my room without asking permission first. My aunt was in the garage outside. That’s everyone accounted for.
I told my mom, “I think Daddy’s still fixing stuff around the house.” Mom just smiled and went back to cooking.
Around Tuesday last week, I was brushing my teeth right after lunch; my officemate was also brushing his teeth at the sink to my left. When I bent forward to spit into the sink, I felt a gentle gust of wind brush my right ear. I looked up immediately; to my right is already the wall. I stared at the ceiling, looking for an air conditioner vent. My officemate noticed the puzzled look on my face and my looking around, and simply said: “Hindi. Meron.”
I immediately knew what he meant. You see, that particular officemate of mine is extra-sensitive to things supernatural; he can sense a presence more acutely than most.
“Really?” I asked. “Where?”
“He’s now standing by the door. He likes to do that a lot—blow on someone’s ear.”
I stared at the door. There was no one. I couldn’t even feel or sense anything. “What does he look like?” I asked.
“An old man in black.”
“How come only now?” I asked. “Whenever I’m here by myself nothing happens.”
He shrugged. “I dunno.”
I finished brushing my teeth. “Well, at least I can now say I’ve experienced a physical manifestation of an unearthly presence,” I told my officemate then quickly stepped out of the bathroom before he could.
* * * * *
Friday evening I arrived home very late to find the lock to my door partially stuck. It would only go in half of the way; if I forced the door closed, I’d be stuck inside my room. My towel, which I often leave on the chair near my bed, was missing. I thought, someone who came in and took the towel—most probably to have it washed—must have turned the knob too hard and got the lock stuck. Since it was past midnight and everyone else was asleep, I decided to just leave things as is.
Next morning the lock was still partially stuck. I went to my mom who was in the kitchen and asked her, “The lock on my door is stuck. Do you know who went into my room?” My mom went to check out the problem for herself. My sister was watching TV in the living room; I decided to stay there instead.
Several minutes later my mom came back to the living room and said, “Now your door cannot be locked shut.” Apparently my mom forced the door closed—and trapped herself inside my room. She called for help to no avail, because we couldn’t hear her above the noise of the TV. Good thing she saw a cutter and a pen on my table; using them she was able to MacGyver her way out. Unfortunately in the process, the lock was now stuck all the way inside. Even if one shut the door, a gust of wind can easily swing it open.
What a hassle, I told myself, but because it was a lazy Saturday morning I decided I’d just buy a new lock later that afternoon. So I watched TV for a few more minutes, checked my email then headed for my room to inspect the damage.
The door was closed. I turned the knob. It was fine. The lock was unstuck and working properly. I tested it a couple of times. It was as if last night and this morning never happened.
I went back to my mom in the kitchen. “My lock is fixed now. Did you do anything to it?”
She shook her head. “When I left it, it was stuck way inside. And I’ve been here in the kitchen the whole time since.”
My sister was in the living room still watching TV. My younger brother was in his room. Neither of them would dare enter my room without asking permission first. My aunt was in the garage outside. That’s everyone accounted for.
I told my mom, “I think Daddy’s still fixing stuff around the house.” Mom just smiled and went back to cooking.
# posted by joelmcvie : 8:59 AM
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ERNESTO: If you're not that sensitive, they won't bother you. I suppose he just played a trick on me because someone sensitive was also in the room. (Hahaha! What a weird theory I have!)
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