Jollibee's FULL NAME!

Si Jollibee, may apelyido pala!
hahahaha

Spirit Of The Coin

I am very fond of ghost stories and everything about the paranormal. Every day I search for new stories to read and pictures to see. Although I am a scaredy-cat, I love the chills and thrills, and I'm not new to them.

I've played the Spirit of the Coin (Ouija) in high school. A cousin taught me how to play it, and I shared that knowledge with my school friends. At first, it was just sheer fun.

While we played, we somehow knew that some of the players were fooling around by moving the coin themselves. But that didn't stop us from playing it at school every day.

What made playing Ouija potent was the fact that there were actually stories about our school being haunted. That premise made the game even more intense.

It is known that our school was built over the graves of Japanese soldiers of the Second World War. Some even believed that the ground was a battle ground where many soldiers lost their lives. Over the years, students have sighted ghosts at different parts of the school building.

One day, we decided to play Spirit of the Coin during our lunch break. 20 students, including myself, crawled through the window of a Floating House that had been vacant for as long as I can remember. Nobody knows who owns it.

We found a small table and dragged five stools from all over the place. Only five players could touch the coin at a time, so we asked for five volunteers, and got them quite easily because everybody was eager. The rest of the students were asked to participate in praying silently in their hearts for the ghosts to come and play the game with us.

The prayer was a silent one; our eyes were closed, and we concentrated on calling any spirit that was around to come and play the game. The five of us who had our fingers on the coin suddenly found it harder to breathe; we felt a strong presence of something around us. Then, suddenly, the coin began to move. I knew I didn't move it, so I began to break a smile, thinking, Here we go. Which one of you four is pushing the damn coin?

At this point, we opened our eyes.

“Who is here?” One person asked.

We watch the coin being pushed and pulled. It spelt
out 'B-O-B'.

“How did you die?” Another question came.

The coin moved. It spelt out 'D-R-O-W-N'.

I could see some smiles and some fear on the faces of my friends who were participating and also those standing around.

More questions came, and each one was answered promptly. I started to believe we could just be dealing with a real spirit.

The game went on for quite awhile and the players were getting tired, so we changed players frequently. Those who were standing and watching were replacing the tired players.

I began to feel my feet getting cold, then, the coldness disappeared, and my feet became totally numb. I was so scared of being paralysed that I began to cry involuntarily. Even though I was desperate to stop the game, I couldn't just lift my finger from the coin; someone else had to replace me first. When I was replaced, I tried to stand but couldn't. I panicked and screamed hysterically. I freaked many of the students out, and they began to run for the window. The five players were edgy too but they knew they could not stop. They knew the rules—stop in the middle of the game and suffer dire consequences. So, they kept on playing while I stood there immobilised.

They pled with the spirit to leave but it wouldn't. They played for a couple of minutes more, then the air in the entire Floating House began to feel cold, and a sweet smell was permeating in the air. We knew it was time to get the heck out of there.

We looked at each other, and then one of the girls shouted, “RUN!” They literally carried me to the window and threw me out. There were screams and hysteria all over the place. Once outside, four of the five girls carried me as far away from the Floating House as they could.

Some of the teachers were running toward us. “What happened to you? One of them asked, excitedly. We told them what we did and they scolded us for it.

“We must take you to the witch doctor,” one of the teachers said.

I had passed out at the witch doctor's house and only woke up late in the evening when I was back home. I felt a slight sensation on my feet but I still could not walk. I was grateful nevertheless that I wasn't going to be permanently paralysed.

The next morning, I was forced to go to school because my whole faculty decided to have a mass and pray over the Floating House. Priests sprinkled holy water to each corner of the Floating House and prayed to the spirits there to forgive us for what we had done. All of us who were there the day before, had to ask for forgiveness.

I was happy we did the prayers because my legs recovered very quickly soon after. My happiness was short-lived though. A morning some weeks later, my pinkie finger started to lose sensation, and I started to feel dizzy. Before I knew it, I was out cold, and only opened my eyes at the witch doctor's house.

Later, my friends told me that I had been possessed, my eyes became red, and the way I looked at each one of them was hair-raising. I spoke with a language which they couldn't understand. They said they had to tie me up because I was so strong. It would have been impossible to take me to the witch doctor without tying me up.

Four weeks after seeing the witchdoctor, my dizzy spells came back. My mom frantically searched for different witch doctors but could not totally cure me. Some skeptical teachers suggested that I should see a psychiatrist. Of course, I didn't.

Months passed, but nothing had improved. Strangely though, my possessions had a timing. I would normally feel strange and become numb in various places of my body at 9 A.M. and often blacked out at noon. But I wouldn't be totally out cold because I'd be talking in a strange language no one understood.

One day, a popular reverend from out of state was visiting our town, and at the time our church was organising a mass for the sick and unwell, so my mother thought we should go and be blessed by him. I was reluctant to go because I was not dying or anything like that, but my mother and friends were very persistent.

When we were walking up the steps of the church, I began to feel really queasy and felt a certain force trying to stop me from going up the stairs. I would have turned around and walked away but my mother and friends held my arms tightly and forced me up the steps and through the church doors. Immediately, I felt very hot and bothered. Then, the familiar sense of dizziness came over me. Then I blacked out.

I woke up in a small room, and a guy I often saw at church was pressing his hand on my head. I looked for my mother but didn't see her. The man had his other hand on his chest, and he was crying. He was thanking god for using him as an instrument in casting away the evil spirit from me. Then, he began to chant in Latin. After chanting for a minute or two, he asked me how I was feeling. I guess he must have seen that I was okay because he didn't wait for my reply. He called my mother to come in. My mother and my friends came in with tears in their eyes.

Apparently, I had collapsed when they brought me to the altar. I began to shake violently and my body arched as if something was trying to come out of my stomach but couldn't. I had freaked everyone, especially my mother, so the reverend told the man to take me into a private room for exorcism.

I had no more incidents of dizziness or numbness after that day. I still had to see the man who performed the exorcism on me for a couple of months just to see if I was truly all right.

I will never again go near an Ouija board or mess with spirits. They are real and they can really harm you.

Source: http://eerietales.bz11.com/phil.html

Imaginary Friend

My family just moved to a new house in Cagayan De Oro City. It was on a peaceful subdivision on the upper part of the city. The lot has a big garden at the back, with a mango tree shading the middle area. The house itself is beautiful. It has two floors with the pathway made up of wood. After a few weeks of moving in the house we are all happy... until strange things started happening.

I began noticing that our garden gnomes (the little figurine statues of dwarfs) are always knocked down every morning  when I take a stroll in the garden. I thought it was caused by the neighbor's dog going in the garden. I asked my neighbor if they could leash their dog every evening, but even then.. the garden gnomes still get knocked down.

And then there is my kid. His name is John (not his real name for security reasons). Before we transferred he was always a timid, meek type of child. He stays indoors a lot and prefer to be alone reading rather than playing outside with other kids. I thought of it as something natural since I was also a loner in my younger years. However, after moving in I began to see changes. Small changes at first, like playing in the garden or being talkative while eating. The big change came when he introduce to us his friend Tom.

Tom is John's imaginary friend. Me and my wife were shocked at first since we view something as "imaginary friend" unhealthy to the development of a child. However, John was happy so we just let it slide.

John has a diary of his own in which he drew all the things that he did that day. The entries in his diary were pretty normal before the existence of Tom. I've stumbled upon his diary the other day while I was cleaning the room. It piqued my curiosity so I read what he wrote yesterday. What was written there gave me the creeps.

"Today I raced against Tom but he always wins since he can float. I want to float too. He said he can help me, but mom called me for lunch. Lunch is better than floating."

I read John's other entries. I was slowly being consumed by fear as each page flip to the previous ones.

"Tom was really angry at the dog today. He said that the dog reveals his location whenever we play hide and seek so unleashed the dog and push its head to the pool of Mrs. Samantha. Tom said that the dog likes it. He said the dog was happy. I am also happy."

"Tom said he was always looking at Pa and Ma whenever they sleep. He said that he was guarding them. Tom is a really nice friend."

That's it. I need to talk to John now. He should have limits to his imagination.

I head down the garden to look for him. He was not there. I looked for him in the kitchen, still not there. I searched all over the house. My fear getting worse, and couldn't even see a glimpse of his shadow.

Finally I head a cry. It was John stuck in the branches of the mango tree. My fear quickly dissipating, then I noticed that there is a rope attach to his neck. As to how and why he was up there with the rope on his neck, I thought of nothing about that. What I was so concerned about is the figure, that ominous figure standing behind him. It was a startling figure for it has no eyes, no nose. It only has a very big and creepy mouth. The creature seems to chuckling to the situation I am in, either that or to what he intends to do to John.

I was frantically exploding inside as John continued crying and the monstrous being continued laughing. Then he did it. He pushed John from the tree-top. My heart stop, my breathing turned heavy as I saw my son falling. The rope was reaching its full stretch size until a miracle happened.

The rope snapped.

Realizing what happened, I hurriedly run to catch John. As I have John in my arms again I regained my rationality.

We moved out of the house, transferred to my parents' until I was able to find another house. This time, hopefully, with no enigmatic beings. That was, and hopefully, the last time I ever saw that entity.



Source: http://www.teckler.com/en/Frane/Philippines-True-Ghost-Story-9-Tom-215725

The Social Science Building

Schools are always infested with haunted stories. This is more noticeable to big and old universities, especially those whose roots started at the Spanish era. As time progresses, the chilling stories of each school is pass on to generation to generation. Some of these stories died out, while others are forged by time. My school has one and its story is true. Why can I strongly confirm that its true? Because the evidence was never removed (or can't be in this situation).

The Social Science building is one of the oldest building in our campus. The building harbors most of the departments related to the school's education course. In the past the sixth floor of the building was said to be a morgue. When I enrolled in  this school it was removed and became a free floor- a floor for other PE classes or used by several school clubs for practicing.

The most interesting fact about the SS building is that its elevator is closed. As in, there are metal bars in each floor blocking the doors of the elevator. If that ain't creepy enough, there are times when the elevator opens on its own. I said that because I witness it personally.

The SS building has a bridge that connects the buildings adjacent to it. So in traversing towards the STC Building (which is at the right side of the SS), I would usually pass through the SS building. It was really quiet and I was the lone person in the hall. As I was passing by the elevator, its doors suddenly opened. That startled me and caused me to run away.

Now, many of you would think that "maybe there was a maintenance" or anything near that line of thinking. After I recovered from running, I thought the same thing, but then I remembered that there is no electricity running it.

After that incident I researched about the history of that building, specifically about that elevator. I found some really interesting things about it. First, that elevator has never been replaced. Therefore, when the sixth floor of the SS building was still a morgue, that elevator is what they use. Also, the shutting down of the elevator happened 6 years ago for safety reasons.

However rumor has it that those "safety reasons" weren't really the reason. The reason is pretty scary. The story goes like this:

This story takes place after the sixth floor was renovated. There is this priest who has heading to the Religious Studies Department on the SS Building. Being quite old and having shaky bones, the priest decided to take a shortcut... to ride the elevator.

He entered alone. there weren't problems except that the elevator was clicked to go to the sixth floor. "This must be another prankster's joke" he murmured to himself. Now, the RS Department is in the fifth floor and while the elevator was climbing up, it stopped in the third floor. "These students need to be disciplined" he thought.

The door opened revealing no one outside. He press the button for closing the door and the elevator quietly closed its doors. He reached the fifth floor. He was about to step outside when he was brushed aside by a running girl.

It was shocking, not because the girl appeared out of nowhere, rather because the girl came inside the elevator! The same elevator he was riding alone. Finally stepping outside after seconds of shock, when he turned his view inside the elevator.... there it was. A floating girl, wearing white. The priest was so stunned that he black out.

When he came through, he was already inside the RS Department's room, surrounded by the staff of the department. When he asked what happened, all he can say is that "Babae.... nakaputi... lumulutang.... sa likod nyo!"

Source: http://www.teckler.com/en/Frane/Philippines-True-Ghost-Story-10-The-Social-Scien-215724

Floating Woman

This is a story related to me by my parents.

Before my parents were married, my mother often visited my father at his house in Daanbantayan. At midnight, my father would send my mother home on his little motorcycle. This was their courtship routine.
My mother may have been granted permission by her parents to visit my father, but she was never allowed to stay the night; it was not a respectful thing to do then. So, at midnights, no matter what, my father would send my mother home.

Normally, the rides to my mother's home were uneventful, but there was one night when things were different.

The day was wet; it had been raining heavily. The courting couple remain indoors all day. They talked, cooked and ate together. My father's parents liked having my mother around because, apart from being a good company, she was a great help around the house.

That midnight, it was still raining so they waited a little longer. At around one o'clock in the morning, the rain had turned into a drizzle. My father quickly brought out his little motorcycle and hopped on. My mother climbed up and hugged him; it was going to be a cold ride home.

As they pass the main road and entered into a lonely narrow road, which would eventually take them to my mother's house, they saw ahead an old woman crossing the road. They thought nothing of her, even though she was carrying two kerosene lamps and walking very slowly---where was she going at that time of the night, in the middle of nowhere?

They were freezing in the cold wind so all they could think about was getting home as soon as possible. So, they rode by her without saying a word. After passing by her, both of them curiously looked into the motorcycle's handlebar mirror. What they saw, froze them completely. My father nearly crashed the motorcycle into a tree as he swerved about uncontrollably. He could not keep his hands still; they were trembling out of control.

Behind them, the old woman was floating in the air---her feet were almost three feet off the ground. Her hair fluttered in the wind as though an electric current was going through her body. Her eyes were burning furiously, like the kerosene lamps she was carrying. She was right behind, and appeared to be chasing them.Although petrified, my father did not lose total control of his motorcycle. He rode so fast and furiously that he missed the turn into the road that led to my mother's house. He only slowed down after my mother alerted him about the turn.

Both my parents didn't know if the other had seen what each of them had seen. When they reached home finally, my father looked at my mother and calmly asked her.

"Nakakita ka sa tiguwang nga naglutaw?" which means, Did you see the floating old woman?

"Yes." She replied, shuddering.

They quickly entered the house and closed the door.

That night, my mother insisted that my father slept in her house. Luckily, he did, or he may not be alive today, and neither would I.

Posted by Gardevoir07

Source: http://www.teckler.com/en/Frane/Philippines-True-Ghost-Story-6-Floating-Woman-215732

Ghost In White

It was shortly after midnight, just after a movie, my girlfriend and I took a stroll to enjoy the cool morning. The morning had an ambiance of romance, and we didn’t feel like parting company just yet.

After some walking, we thought it would be nice to go for ice-cream so we hailed a tricycle taxi and hopped in. We asked the driver to take us to St Bernadette Street. To our surprise, he refused. When we asked him why, he told us he had an encounter with a ghost once when driving through St Bernadette Street.

We were so intrigued that we took a joy ride instead. We listened attentively while he told us this story:

“With a best friend, Sunny, I would take rides along St Bernadette Street to pick up passengers. Sunny was a fun guy to be with. He would tell me many jokes and make our work fun. One night, I'll remember this for the rest of my life...” The driver said with a tear trickling down from his left eye.

My girlfriend and I looked at each other and felt guilt building up but said nothing. Maybe it will do him good to talk, we thought. But actually, we both were yearning to hear more, and waited for him to continue.

Wiping the tear away, he asked, “You sure you want to hear my sad story, I don’t want to bore you with it?”

We nodded enthusiastically. “Of course we do." I said. "Unless it bothers you to talk about it, then we’d….”

Before I could continue, he interrupted. “No, it’s no bother. Actually, I appreciate your interest. Ok, so where was I? Oh yes! Sunny.”

“You see, there was this lady all dressed in white, she smiled at Sunny and Sunny struck a conversation with her."

Sunny’s like that you know." He said to me and carried on.

"She — was a beautiful woman, very beautiful. Sunny then asked her what she was doing all alone at that time of the night.”

Then, with his eyebrows raised, palm up as he pointed his hand at us to emphasize the next sentence, the driver said.“ You know, this was around 2 am and she was all alone.” He paused, shook his head, then continued.

“She replied to Sunny that she was lost and confused. She didn’t know why she was wandering about. Sunny asked her where she wanted to go and she replied, ‘home.’ Sunny, without asking where her home was, offered her a ride - he invited her into his tricycle and she got in."

The driver looked at me and said. "Sunny turned and looked at me – with that look you give when you are about to score big – you know."

Realising my girlfriend there, he bashfully said, "Err..it’s a man thing.”

I looked at my girlfriend and we smiled. I saw how absorbed she was in the story and kissed her on the cheek; she was totally oblivious to it.

Then, our driver just stared into the distance, forgotten we were there, I thought. Hated being left in suspense, my girlfriend asked while trying to hide her impatience. “So what happened?”

Jolted out of rapt, he blurted. “What? Oh! Sorry. Well, Sunny rode away…and….err…he turned the corner up ahead.” He paused.
Another tear rolled down his cheek. We didn’t push him that time. There was a silence and we thought we’d better just leave it at that. We slid back in our seat. I put my arm over my girlfriend's shoulder, our heads leaned and rested on each other’s.

We sat like that and in complete silence for almost a minute as we enjoyed the slow cold wind in our faces. Then, the driver suddenly stopped paddling. He turned to look at us and I saw in his face, a man burdened with unanswered questions.

He finally said in a soft voice. “She was no where! It had been only seconds and she disappeared! I didn’t see her walking away or anything! You know.”

He sounded and looked like he was blaming himself for something.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and came to presence of mind. He let out a sigh and said, ”There was an accident. Sunny’s tricycle was crushed and broken to pieces right before my eyes. I rushed to him and…and…he was bleeding from the head. He muttered a few words but I couldn't understand. Then he..., he was dead!”

He looked at me with the eyes of a very frightened man. He then said, ”And the girl? She just disappeared! I looked for her but she was nowhere to be found! She was a ghost!

He paused. He rubbed his arms for goose bumps had formed, and started to sob.

"A ghost!” he muttered to himself.

We looked at each other, I gripped my girlfriend's hand tight.

He took us to a cafe and we invited him to join us for coffee but he politely refused and rode away a tortured soul.

Source: http://www.teckler.com/en/Frane/Philippines-True-Ghost-Story-7-Ghost-In-White-215731

Bad Girls and the Bathroom Ghost

I was a student at the Central Philippine University in 1985. I had two best friends, Marie and Jacky. We were considered “the bad, but cool, girls.”

It wasn’t easy to join our group, nor were we looking for additional members. We enjoyed ourselves being “bad” girls – well not the kind that you probably would have in mind. We were still conservative in our unique ways.

Anyway, we always frequent the girl’s restroom for a make over, smoke and the usual gossip. One day, on one of our routine smoking sessions, a girl we never saw before came in and started fixing her hair. She totally ignored us – that was disrespectful! We were furious at her audacity, for no one - and I mean no one - would dare come in the girls' room when we were in there.

We stared at her hard but she, apparently, wasn’t intimidated at all. So Jackie, being the most assertive of us, nudged her and went with her face close to her cheek. The room became so silent, you could literally hear a pin drop. It was a tense moment and we were all at the edge of our breaths. Then suddenly, the stranger turned her head sharply toward Jackie! Jackie screamed, and that led to a chain reaction of screams from Marie and me as well. Jackie jolted backwards and nearly tripped over my foot.

We stood there in horror! Was she going to hurt us? Were we doomed for all the things we had done against many girls like her? These questions went through our minds equally. We stood there staring at her face which was blue, and her eyes were bloodshot and popped halfway out of the sockets!

It is the most horrendous, most scary thing I have ever seen in my life! I've been scared by sights in the movies but nothing beats this!

After that incident, we stopped using the girls' room as often, and vowed not to bully anyone anymore.

Apparently, others have also seen the “ghost-girl” but only as a reflection in the mirror.


Source: http://www.teckler.com/en/Frane/Philippines-True-Ghost-Story-8-Bad-Girls-and-the-215730