05/10/2024
One night, I was chilling in the living room with the new cleaning lady. We hadn’t really talked much since she was still new. Around 10 PM, she said goodnight, heading off to bed. As she got up, her cloth almost slipped, and for some reason, that moment stuck with me all night.
The next morning, after returning from my godfather Betton’s place, I downed a few drinks—three thunders, to be exact. When I got home, something caught my eye—something glowing faintly on the couch. Blue light flickered faintly in the dark. I felt compelled, as if the room was inviting me into a strange negotiation. I sat in the shadows near the couch, speaking softly, half-thinking I was still in the middle of a dream or some drunken stupor.
"Come on, let’s keep this between us," I whispered to no one in particular, still imagining the maid. "I’ll make sure my uncle raises your pay... You’re not really sleeping, are you?"
Time blurred from 10 PM until nearly 4 AM. I kept negotiating with the darkness, hoping for some kind of sign. All I needed was a green light, just a hint. Then—FLEX! A sharp sound cut through the air. I froze.
"What are you doing there?!" The voice made my heart drop. It was my uncle’s wife. "Who are you talking to in the dark?!"
Panic set in as I scrambled to cover up, but it was too late. She turned on the light, and what do I see? It wasn’t the maid’s cloth lighting up on the couch—it was my aunt’s rosary, glowing faintly in the night. My mind raced. What had I been doing, sitting in the dark, half-naked, talking to a glowing rosary?
"Witchcraft! Are you practicing witchcraft in my house?!" she shouted, eyes wide with disbelief. "At 5 AM, sitting naked, talking to yourself?!" She snatched up the rosary, waving it like a weapon. "You are defeated in the name of Jesus!" she declared, tapping my head with the rosary before storming off to her room.
The next week, my family sent me to a prayer camp. Three months passed before I was finally back home, but ever since that night, I can’t stand the sight of a glowing rosary. And yeah, I still drink more thunder than ever.
This is the photo illustration for the story
