Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Semestral Break Adventures: Walking Through the Dead

Finally! A week of rest and leisure for students like me-semestral break! Okay, not all fun with all those projects and deadlines haunting us wherever we go. But nevertheless, it was a time to relax and have more exciting adventures. 

On October 30, my family (on my mom's side) decided to visit the cemetery. We rode in different vans going to Holy Cross Memorial Park, a cemetery in Novaliches, Quezon City. My sister and I rode with my cousin, playing the DS and telling each other stories to pass the time.

We stepped down to a grassy place an hour later. Dusty tombstones on the ground and death dates were everywhere. It was creepy, and it would have sent a chill down my spine if it weren't for the sun shining brightly in the sky. There were also a lot of people and fast food stalls, which made it less creepier. My cousin and I walked around, trying to find the earliest birth date engraved on a tombstone. But we also made sure that we never stepped on anyone's grave- whose spirit could haunt us later that night.

Walking through the dead is scary, for our imagination makes it so. My imagination conjures thoughts of silvery-white spirits rising from tombs and shriveled-up faces with blood dripping down their eyes- EEEK! Our imagination could really make up some nightmares we later on will regret. I regret thinking of that ghost in my bathroom. Here is a poem about those kind of nightmares the imagination could make- and what could help in fighting these.

Nightmares and Nightlights
by Mattie

Lost I was in a realm of nightmare
Being chased by a zombie/vampire
Why couldn't I tumble to the other side
Where unicorns and rainbows reign?

It seemed like running in circles and circles
In the inky dark nothingness
But as I searched and searched
I sighted a glow, a light of shining hope.

Could it be- a portal?
From this world to the reality of life?
But never was I to know
For a slimy hand had clutched my shoulder.

I woke with a start, back in the comfort of a blanket
Dimly do I remember that sight from my dream
But I did remember that trail of red blood it left
And its ghostly white eyes staring right into my soul.

I shook myself, relieving myself of fear
And looked around at my dark bedroom
Stared at the ticking of the clock
As it was, I discovered, three hours past midnight.

I wanted to go back to sleep!
But my eyes wouldn't shut, my eyes would flicker
Even as I counted my sheep
It was one creepy night-for I could not go back to sleep!

Suddenly, a knock came tapping on the door
And the shuffling of steps echoed throughout my room
I got up, twisted the door knob and-
There was no trace of who had knocked on my door.

I ran quickly to my parents' room
Knowing they could comfort me and let me sleep on their bed
I pinched, shook, patted-but failed,
Their snoring just grew louder.

I looked out in the window,
Into the darkness of the cold night
No lone dog howling nor cat meowing
The outside was as creepy as could be.

A stray cold air rushed towards me
And looked behind and saw-
A shadow softly flitting and prancing across the room
And I knew that it wasn't mine.

I fled as fast as my feet could go
And tucked myself into one of my soft blankets
Then something caught my eye-
Those ghostly white eyes I had once seen.

I screamed, my heart hammering on my chest
Hoping it would wake up the others
But no one rushed into my room a few seconds later
What was happening to the world around me?

I never believed in those rumors-it could be imagination
Where they say my house was built on a graveyard
And lone ghosts would haunt me all my life
But now I see-maybe it was true!

I grasped around for something that might help me
Maybe a toy hammer or sword to hit zombies on the head
But instead, I found a switch
Finally, the nightlight!

I switched it on and-lo and behold!
A warm light to defend me against dark creatures
No longer was I afraid or scared
But I never realized all my nightmares would end-
All with one nightlight!

I would do other things too, like opening all the doors and making sure that there is always someone near me. I also pray to my guardian angel to guard me from bad spirits. 

The moon and the dark nothingness
My imagination always scares me, but that doesn't mean imagination is a bad thing. Imagination really makes lives more colorful and lively. Imagination is like the sun to a flower, which makes it live. So although imagination can cook up some really terrifying things- especially this October-November, a bit of imagination is good for you.

Oodles of goodbyes,


  1. wow, that is a SCARY poem! you surely have a way with words!

  2. The cemetery we went to was soooo crowded with people and food kiosks, wasn't it?
    I enjoyed your poem! :^) auntie Patsy from

  3. yes our imaginations can run wild - even when you are 50!