Tip: Read this article with the lights on!

We’ve all heard ghost stories passed down by titas, classmates, or that one school janitor who “swears” something happened. But sometimes, the scariest stories aren’t the ones whispered during Halloween, they’re the ones that happen in broad daylight, in places we walk through every day. A classroom, a court, a balcony. These are stories that stayed with us not because they were loud or bloody, but because they were quiet… and real. Here are three chilling encounters that happened to ordinary students in very ordinary places, until something made them unforgettable. 

The Student in the Locked Room

I was an 8th grader when this happened, I’m now a graduating student and I still remember that chilling incident that I still think about to this day. Growing up, I’ve always been more in line with the unnatural and spiritual beings that others usually do not dwell in. My parents, for instance, once took me to an albularyo because of my constant cries of the taas buhok na babae in my grandparents’ washing area, or when I ran as fast as I could to my parents’ bedroom yelling “mama, naay babae na nakasuot ug puti sa taas!” while pointing at the 2nd floor of our old house to which they found—no one. My tita even found it funny when she noticed me hiding in one of our neighbor’s fences while trying to take a peek at their house, and they would ask why? I would answer “naay hadlok nga babae gatan.aw sa akoa.” After that trip to the albularyo, all of it just stopped. I no longer see nor feel their presence, it was good–the best even. I lived a normal life–or so I thought. 

It was just another day, I woke up early as my class starts at 7:00 am and I couldn’t afford to be late. I got ready and went to school, it was hectic–lots and lots of classroom activities and quizzes. The day went by like a blur and when the clock struck at 5:00 pm, the classes were dismissed. Now, like any other high schools, the students had to clean their classrooms before going home. Unfortunately for me, I was assigned as a cleaner on that day–that very day. As I was finishing up with my task, a classmate told my friend and I to take the trash out–so we did. We went out–now, it was getting dark as it was getting close to 6:00–we walked to the back of our campus–as that was where our trash pit was located. It was all good, the place was quiet–too quiet. The students, faculties, and staff were leaving one-by-one, leaving the campus barren. One of the classrooms was already empty when we passed by it on our way to the back part–the lights were turned off, the armchairs neatly arranged–no trace of any students around. 

As we walked back to our classroom, I was looking around the empty classrooms–and there, that one classroom I saw–a student wearing our uniform. Staring straight at me, inside the classroom. “Hala, naa pa lagi tao ana na classroom?” I said to my friend to which she answered—”sirado naman na?” And I suddenly felt chills running down every part of my body when I looked back and saw–no one. But the memory of the student wearing our school uniform in that locked classroom stayed untouched, cold, barren–similar to that very day. 

The Boy on Lola’s Balcony

This is a story from when I was young, I don’t remember much—but I do remember this as clear as day. We were at my grandparents’ place. Their house was quite far from where we lived, and we only see each other once or twice a month. So, I was pretty pumped up and excited to see them again. I remember waking up early and immediately rushing to my parents’ room to wake them up. After that, it was pretty fuzzy–we arrived, the adults started talking and I was running around my lola’s backyard with my other cousins. I was having a blast then I got thirsty–and so I made my way inside their house. It was dark–I loved the dark even though I was quite a scaredy-cat. But this kind of darkness was different, something about it felt—eerie. And even when I knew which doors to open, and what lies behind those doors, it was too hard to see–to notice what was happening in the shadows. I made my way to the kitchen, each step making a creaking sound–as my lola’s floors were made of wood–then I heard it. A small creak sound–but not from my own–coming from behind me. “Ikaw na, Ding?” I asked, thinking it was my cousin trying to scare me but—no one answered. Scared to my wits end–I started bolting towards the front door–leaving behind all thoughts of my thirst. 

After that creepy encounter, I remember I stuck to my mama’s side for the rest of our visit. And just as we were leaving, while my mama was bidding her farewell to my lola, I looked up at my lola’s balcony and there—a boy with extremely large eyes was staring straight at me. He was glowing–so much so that I thought it was the moon. His eyes were so enormous–it felt like it was about to burst– making my knees go weak. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t remember much after that–but I do remember that in my lola’s balcony–stood a lone boy glowing so terrifyingly. 

Who Were the Nuns at the Court?

A court is where you play games and stuff, right? Well, this one serves the same purpose but with a tinge of a twist. This story was not of mine—but a tale foretold by my titas and titos who were alumnus of the high school I’m currently in. Now, you might picture this court as terrifying-looking and abandoned—it is not. It’s placed at the very front of the campus, the first you’ll see when you pass by our school. To tell you honestly, it looks normal–the place it’s located is the brightest, hence the board decided to have it covered. It’s even where we hold most of our school activities–even our PE classes. In hindsight, the court is a lovely place filled with exciting and bustling events–bustling even for the supernaturals. 

I have never heard of this story–not until my tita did at a relative’s birthday celebration. My cousins and I were gathered around sharing random updates about our lives, but it came to a point where the topic shifted from random stuff to horror stuff. You know—the ones we’ve experienced at least once in our lives. We talked about the lady haunting a street in the college’s campus, and my tita happened to have overheard our conversation–surprisingly enough–she was invested and started to share the story of the “madres sa court.” Yes, you heard it right. Madres—nuns. Back when they were in highschool, the area where we now have a cemented court–used to be just plain grass and dirt. Back then, the cover wasn’t built just yet. And this happened during a retreat. The skies were enveloped with darkness where the stars and the moon painted the night a bit brighter. My tita looked each one of my cousins and I in the eyes as she recalled the events of that night. 

“Kahinumdom jud ko, grabe pa namong pangatawa uban sa akong mga classmate. Pati imong tito ug tita kay uban man mi adto…” She started. Apparently, the night started smoothly, everyone was busy laughing at stupid things, reflecting,and other typical retreat things. That peace continued on for a few hours–but as the night deepened, their laughter having died down, stories after stories, and memories being made–someone from their group excused themself to go to the bathroom. They didn’t think much of it and said okay, as the bathroom was quite near the classroom they were using for the night, before the chattering continued. Minutes passed and they noticed their friend still hasn’t returned, my tita and her other friend found it strange and decided to check on her other friend–they walked out the classroom and onto the hallway, for some reason it felt too quiet–the wind blew and the trees started to move in a rhythmic pattern–a pattern she found too disturbing. The winds felt cold even when they were wearing their sweaters. 

The empty dimmed hallways felt terrifying–but they had a goal—to check on their friend. And so, they continued walking until they reached the comfort room only to find—no one. “Aha man to siya uy?” Her friend asked in a frantic tone as they looked around. Just as they did, they heard a strange sound from somewhere–not too loud but loud enough for them to hear. It seemed to have come from a certain direction. The sound of a group of people chattering, and like a bunch of idiots–they followed the sound and it led them to the clearing where they can have a clear view of the court—that was supposed to be desolate of any presence—there they saw a crowd in all black talking in a language neither of the two understand. They had long stopped walking and were only observing from a distance—for some reason the sight before them felt—off. 

“Tana dae! Lakaw nata!” Her friend nudged, seemingly disturbed, at my tita, who was too busy staring at the view ahead of them, just as her friend muttered those words. The chattering stopped–and they all looked into their direction. And that’s when they noticed–the crowd not far from them–were wearing a nun’s uniform—pero ngano? The nuns their institution invited had long since gone back to the church–who are these people? Just as my tita was about to speak, the madres started advancing towards them. This alarmed my tita and her friend causing them to bolt from the scene. They ran as fast they could, back to the direction they came from–back to the classroom they were occupying–back to the comfort of the rowdy group of classmates they had left. Luckily, they both arrived back at the classroom safely and saw their other friend joining the group. With sweats forming from their forehead, they rejoined the circle–laughing away the encounters of the night. She said not much had happened after that, but it did bother her for a few months. She said she wasn’t sure but she could’ve sworn that her other friend? She was there. Among the crowds of madres….