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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2101406-OUR-NEIGHBORHOOD-GHOST
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by K Lang Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Contest Entry · #2101406
The Ghost Nun
I was born in Manila, Philippines, across from where I lived were three tennis courts and basketball courts. Next to that is a big public swimming pool.
Adjacent was the local public school. The school is three stories high, as big as eight city blocks surrounded by a tall wall.

I used to think it was an urban legend. that was until one night.
The story goes:
The school used to be a Catholic school, ran by our local nuns.
One day the dead body of a nun was found beheaded.
My siblings and I never went there but we had friends and cousins who did.
Several kids in the neighborhood said that they heard of stories of a girl or girls who went in a bathroom and saw a nun's head float up a toilet, and in an eerie voice she asks, "what are you doing here, go back to class." They ran out screaming.
I was always skeptical of the stories and never paid heed. So one night my younger cousin, two friends and I decided to play in the tennis courts by the school wall. We walked in the stadium door, across the pitch dark tennis courts, walked towards the coconut trees. Playing facing one of the stairways in the darkness.
We knew that there is a night watch man, who walks the school. So when we noticed a light flickering in the hallway we did not pay any attention and continued to play. But as the light from a lantern becomes more prominent it caught my interest.
I watched as the light of a lantern can be seen walking towards the stairway. I started to see a shadow, I grabbed my cousin's hand: as it walks down the steps first shoes, a nun's dress and legs, her waist, her hands one holding a lantern, the top of her dress and no head.
I screamed, grabbed my cousin and ran as fast as our legs could go, headed out the gates, out of the darkness and into my house. Left my friends behind to fend for themselves.
To this day I still do not know what is worse: seeing the headless nun or my grandmother's rage. I can still here her yelling bloody murder.
© Copyright 2016 K Lang (lillyp1968 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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