Isn’t it enough that you get spooked already of anything that is related to ghosts(!), white ladies(!) and black ladies(!)? Why do they then manage to slink their way to your daily life and show up? Ack. I saw something black move quickly outside my room. O and I freaked out and didn’t talk about it. Rj also told me about the other people living in the house. There’s a girl who is sad that when he sees her he instantly feels pain. There’s also a man in bloody beach clothes. And the black thing. Rj said its a girl. I call her Shilo –slurred for silhouette.
Back when Bong used to live in the house, he was watching TV when he realized his phone was lost. He claimed he looked everywhere but it was impossible for the damn thing to be gone. He murmured something like, “Please give me back my phone.” He was talking to no one in particular but also hoping something would listen. The phone was back where he left it after getting to the restroom. He was alone.
Just tonight while riding the elevator with Jill and Roy from the 8th floor going 1st, the box stopped at the third floor. The floor is deserted. Unoccupied. Under construction. No one moved. Roy hastily said, “I didn’t do it!’ We panicked and made him press the close button and even though it was only 2 seconds after the door closed, it felt forever for sight of the dark area to be gone. Nothing extraordinary entered but it still was creepy. Jill’s head was buried on my shoulder the whole time. You can just imagine our faces and shrieks after getting out from elevator and greeting people outside Skyrise building.
Of course Roy didn’t push the button for the 3rd floor. It could have been faulty wiring. But seeing that same floor also had a history where a little girl entered the elevator after it stopped right there and scared the hell out of another person who was at the same time inside didn’t exactly make that a usual occurrence.
I, a believer of anything supernatural, wouldn’t want to experience anything scary, spooky and kababalaghan, because any incident at all would turn my knees into butter and I’d faint. So why scare me when you know I’ll be, duh, scared? Oooh, I could just hate. So hateful.