My story took place in La Union, province in Philippines. Me and my relatives gathered in our ancestral house to celebrate my grandfather Demens 1oth death anniversary. This house is big and old; nobody lives there except for an old distant relative who serves as caretaker.
I was 16 then, my guy cousin, leon, 15 and my uncle Lino, 22 were at the veranda talking how old and creepy the house is. The locals considered it haunted because they always see old ladies from the window in second floor (my great grandmother died of childbirth on one of the room, another great grand aunt, committed suicide in one of the bathroom). Because of this, none of us, except for the caretaker dared to go up to the 2nd floor, day or night.
So anyway, the 3 of us got bored and decided to take a look at the 2nd floor, it was about 9pm, we just finished the padasal (prayer for the dead). With only one flashlight we went upstairs, it was really cold upstairs but we did not see any ghost. We went to the farthest room, my grandfather Demens room and opened the cabinet; it was empty except for a small bag. We got curious and opened it, there were old reading glasses, comb, wallet, pack of cigarette and old style gel (pomada).My uncle Lino (grandfather Demens youngest son) dragged us out, his hands were shaking and clammy, so we hurried downstairs. I don't know why but he was really scared.
Once were in the common room, he told our other relative what we saw, and I got the shock of my life when we learned that the luggage in the cabinet actually belonged to grandfather Demen, and that luggage was placed inside his casket. We described the bag, glasses etc. And it was the same things. The caretaker went upstairs to check, but it wasn't there anymore. But the 3 of us swore it was there.
Maybe it was a sign that grandfather Demen was there to celebrate with us.
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