Silliman Workshop Day 16-slash-17

I have another ghost story to tell.

I wonder, though, why these things have been happening a lot. It began in Bacolod. Of course, I wasn't the one who saw the so-called White Lady back in Balay Kalinungan, it was Alyza, my co-fellow in the 10th Iyas Workshop. Still, the spirit did hover over my head, and the fact that I didn't see it wasn't comforting in any way.

Here in Camp Lookout/Writers Village, we have cabins assigned to us. Four people to each cabin, which has two rooms with a double-deck bed each. We slept early since we were scheduled to go to Antulang the next day--Wednesday, which is outing day. We had to get up at 6am and leave by 7.

In the Jasmine Cabin (so named because we planted a Jasmine tree just outside), we were five, and it was my turn to sleep on the floor (I had a bed, of course). For some reason, I was roused from sleep at 3am in the morning. It wasn't Day 16 anymore, but Day 17 when I woke. I could here typing just outside our rooms, where there was a small "reception" area, like a living room. I thought Miro was still typing in the wee hours. Through the open door, I called out, asking her why she was still typing. I'd thought, "napaka sipag naman naman nito". I believe she was finishing her piece for the 49th Dumaguete antho.

It was dark, mind you. I thought I saw her sitting there. There was no electricity. It was stuffy in the room. When Miro didn't answer, I stood up, stepped outside our room.

"Why are you typing in the dark?" I pressed. Until I realized it. Her Mac Book was on standby. I could still hear the sound of typing. Through the shadows, I could actually see the keys moving. But there was no one seated on the monobloc chair before it. No one was using the Mac.

That was when I freaked out.

No, I didn't scream. My mind just went blank, as though I couldn't comprehend what I'd just witnessed. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..." That was all I could blurt out as I ambled back to our room. Netty woke up because of all my oh-my-god-ing, and the typing stopped.

She asked me what was wrong. She told me she couldn't, didn't hear anything. She was obviously confused about who the hell I was talking to out in the hallway. So was I.

I don't know who I was talking to.

I frickin' don't wanna find out.

I decided to transfer rooms, just to the other side. I didn't want to sleep in our room, on the floor. I was scared the "entity" had followed me.

Grr. I don't even have the proverbial third eye. Hopefully, that thing won't happen again. Hopefully, I won't get up in the middle of the night talking to thin air. Not again. :<