The Possession – A Story They Will Never Forget

I am very fond of ghost stories and everything about paranormal. Each day I am searching for new stories to read and pictures to see. Although I am scary cat, I love the chills, and I am not new with it.

I’ve learned how to play the Spirit of the Coin (Ouija) in high school. A cousin taught me how to do it and I shared the knowledge with my friends. At first it was entertaining, we thought that someone is only joking with the coin. We played it in my school every day, and it was cool because stories said that our school was haunted. They said that it was a graveyard for the Japanese Soldiers who colonized us 100 years ago. Some said it was a battle ground and many people died.

Over the years ghosts were seen on different corners of the buildings. It was fun playing it not only because we felt like we’ve captured different ghosts, talking to them but also having this feeling that someone is only bluffing. It was scary but funny.

Until one day, we played Spirit on the Coin on our lunch break. We went to the Floating House and were more like 20 students. Only 5 people were allowed to touch the coin but everyone should participate and pray in order to get a powerful ghost.

Honestly, I am still having hard time to tell this story because I am still afraid of something. I don’t know what is it that I am afraid of, but every time that I’m thinking about it, there’s a scary feeling inside. As if there’s something that will happen around me.

Well, here it goes…


We prayed silently and I know that everyone’s heart was into it. It was a solemn moment as if everyone was so serious about it. Then the coin moved. Five fingers were on the coin, they started to ask questions, the name, cause of death and other issues that we’re curious about. The answers were definite. If there is one of us who are faking it, we should have known since often times we changed positions. Some stood up and pulled out their finger and others replaced them, so we would know if someone is only bluffing. But on that particular time, we know that we’re talking to a real spirit.

The next thing I know, I couldn’t feel my feet, then my legs. I cried as they continued playing. Some freaked out and ran. Some continued praying. They were really scared but they don’t want to leave me there. We decided to go out of the Floating House since we were all terrified, but I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t move my legs. And the problem was, we went inside through the window because the front door was locked. So the boys carried me to the open window and pushed me out. We were all crying and praying.

Teachers came to help and they sent me to a witch doctor. They did many ceremonies and rituals until I passed out.

It was late in the evening when I woke up. And I could feel my feet. But still I’m having hard time to walk. It’s like one is shorter than the other.

The next morning, I was forced to go to school because the whole faculty decided to have a mass on the Floating House. Priests sprinkled holy water to each corners of the Floating House and prayed that souls there would forgive us for what we did, and that they would be in peace.

Weeks passed by, my legs were better, until one morning around 9, my pinky finger became numb, then I felt dizzy, next thing I know I was with the witch doctor again. My friends said that I was possessed. My eyes became red and the way I looked at each one of them was really frightening. I spoke some language which they couldn’t understand. They said they tied me up because I was so strong and they need to bring me to the house of the witch doctor. It was for weeks. My mom tried to see different witch doctors just for me to cure. Some teachers suggested that I should see a psychiatrist.

Months passed but I was still the same. Some said that I was possessed every 9am because I set my time differently. If its 9 in the morning, it was 12 in my watch. It’s hard to explain, but they said the spirits are stronger at 12 noon or midnight, and 12 in my clock is 9 in real time.

Well, I remembered clearly that it ended when there was a mass for unwell people in our town. It was like the some higher priest will pray over the sick and dying. My mom brought me there. I know at first I really don’t want to go. I was not sick and I was not dying. But she insisted. So we went there with some friends.

I felt hot while entering the church. I felt dizzy and uncomfortable. Well, I used to go to church every now and then to see the local priest to pray over my possession. But it felt different. As if there’s this heavy thing inside of me. Then I woke up inside this room with someone. My mom wasn’t there. I am with this guy whom I used to see at the church. He’s praying, one hand on my head and the other is on his chest. He was almost crying and thanking God in granting him the power that defeated the evil spirit. Then he prayed on Latin. It’s like more than 15 minutes, I was rested on the floor and he kept on praying. Then he asked how I feel. I said I’m fine. Then he called my mom outside.

They all came in crying. I didn’t know what just happened, but inside of me, I feel scared. They said I collapsed then they brought me in front of the altar. I went wild. I was just laying down but they said they saw some strange thing that wants to go out of my body. It’s like I was epileptic, that my whole body was shacking. All of the people inside were terrified when they found out that I was neither sick nor dying, but haunted for over a month. They said it was really unnerving to watch.

After that incident, I went back to my normal being, for months I was forced to see the guy who prayed over me just to make sure that I was OK. We found out who was the spirit who possessed me, the stories behind her death. And we all prayed for her.

For me, it was a normal, I mean, I didn’t see anything or like, I felt something but I couldn’t explain. I am still scared until now, but I don’t know of what. Honestly my heart is beating so fast while I’m writing this. For some it was just a story to tell, but for those who saw and witnessed, it was a story they will never forget.

1 Comment

  1. apparently, we weren’t colonized by the Japanese “somewhat 100 years ago”; it’s somewhere between 1942-1945.

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