The Haze

    It was raining heavily. Aloft were the clouds grayish enough to make the day darker. The raindrops kept falling on the roof forming a subtle sound. It was a gloomy day though the sun was shinning still. A sense of wonder started to smolder within me.

    We went outside to play with the rain and with my friends. It was already 11 o'clock in the morning, three hours had passed since it started to drizzle. And we enjoyed this rain lot. Here after, we went farther just to reach a haze we've been seeing from our backyards ever since. According to folktales, this haze was once inhabited by spindly mites that turned to ghosts. There were reports that the villagers that had just walked into the haze were no longer seen. Moreover, the birds and other domestic animals disappeared after they stepped inside that haze. And it was rumored that the ghost was the reason behind these disappearances. Yet, these ghosts were not seen by any other people. That thin mist may have been caused by the heavy rainfall, indeed. But still, we were childish enough to discover new things. So, we went to the haze just to revel in it. We did not care much about it for it was mere tale and it was by then in ancient time. 15 minutes of walk and finally, we were there. It was actually thicker than we've thought. There were trees and some fruits of mango. The flowers there were also fully blooming. It was really apart from their beliefs that it was freaky. We pondered that there was nothing special.

    But as we were shrouded by this mist, we started to feel something horrific. We could feel the green leaves starting to dry up. We heard of something rucking beneath the roots. And there was a tingling doze. We tried to look on each other to ease the unknown awe, but the haze had thicken already and it began to cover our faces. Thereafter, we began to scream. Our long cries were occupying the entire village. But it was eerie that we could not hear anything in response. Even a soft gust of wind was never heard; it was very quiet. It was unusual since our village has never been silent neither festive. This deafening silence kept on startling us. Hereby, even the faint light of the gloomy day started to fade. It was like the dusk's light that was left.

    We felt something trampled our knees because of fear. We were lame and teary-eyed by then. We could no longer see each other as if we felt alone inside the haze. It was unexplainable that we were just inches apart before, but we could not grab each other by this point. As we grasp for each others' hand, the cold vapor was always the thing we could touch. We were shivering in dread. I could hear their voices as if they were on different directions, as if, they were kilometers apart. I could hear them squeal. We were spared. I aimed for a step to follow their shrill cries but I felt enfeebled and petrified that I could not lift my feet. But even if I've lifted it, I do not know where to trek the right direction for the haze was blinding my sight. I was wondering who the hell took them. As I was vaguely hearing their voices, someone suddenly tapped my shoulder. I peeked as fast as I could without hesitations, but there was nothing but mist. I may just have been hallucinating of weird things, I thought. But it was for real and for sure, we were trapped inside.

    I stepped backward to free myself and to keep on breathing. But the moment that I've stepped on the ground, something was too obtrusive under my feet. It was not actually the ground I've stepped, I knew it. And I took a fast glance to it because I knew it was no longer a human. I saw the feet of a dead man that I'd stepped! And it was wounded where worms and ticks kept on moving. I almost lost my breath. Without knowing, I already observed him from his feet up to head, and it was bleeding. His eyes were of deep pain. And his face was just fearsome. I tried to run from this point.

    But as soon as I had my first step, he had already held my feet tight enough to avoid me from running. It was cold and vile in feeling. I screamed in fear, but I could no longer hear my voice. Hitherto, I crouched to escape from this horror. But he forcefully grabbed my shoulder and I could no longer move. I already accepted the fact that I would soon be one of them. From that time, what I could remember was I felt dizzy with his exuded breath. And the last thing I've seen before I closed my eyes, was a xiphoid blade coming over me. I could faintly hear the voices of my friends fading away too.

    I opened my eyes and I saw a warm towel dabbing my head. I was feeling cold and dizzy somehow. And my family was looking after me, smiling saying, "Thanks God. He regained consciousness." My newly dressed up friends with their wet hairs came by then. They've got with them a thermometer. One of them approached me and whispered, "How's the rain?"

    How I wished I have not took a bath on it.