Note: This is a true experience of a Filipino woman named Francisca B. Alcantara, which was translated by her daughter in English.
I used to work in my uncle’s accounting office when I was a young woman, back in the ‘80s -‘90s. The office is a separate compartment within his house at #25, Biak-na-Bato St., Santol, Quezon City. The house, an up and down structure, was constructed along with a small apartment adjacent it in 1963. On the first floor of the house is where the office, the living room and the dining room are located while on the second floor are the five rooms where his family, the maids, and me slept.
Since the house only has two air condition units: one in the office, and the other in the master's bedroom, each of the other rooms had to make do with a single electric fan. I would never forget one of my most vivid paranormal experiences in that house, particularly in my room.
The one with the huge red electric floor fan shared with Diding, a maid and her little kid, Rodel.
You see; every night before going to sleep, we would position the fan fairly before the two beds,so the three of us could both benefit from it. The old thing doesn’t rotate anymore. I’m not really fond of using electric fans but there are just those torrid nights that I can’t handle.
At first, bedtimes are going along pretty normal, me sleeping soundly as well as the other two on their bed.--until one night.
I woke up unaware of the time but I didn’t get up or opened my eyes although I am sweating. I was too shiftless to get up so I just to shrugged it off and went back to sleep.
Unfortunately that wasn’t the last night I felt it. A couple nights passed and still, I would wake up from sleep sweating on my bed. The weird thing is: we would place it in its normal position- facing us, before going to bed. But still I would wake up in the middle of the night sweating like a pig. Okay this is too much, I thought that time. They’ve (Diding and Rodel) been keeping the fan to themselves every night. I ought to talk to them about it in no time.
The next morning, I went down headed to the kitchen for some breakfast. As I was approaching the door, I couldn’t help overhearing Diding talking to the cook.
“…Francy’s keeping the fan to herself! It’s hard for me and my son to sleep every night because it’s hot!”
I was so stunned by what she said that before the cook could reply, I hadn’t stopped myself from butting in. “What?!” I blurted. “No, it’s ME who would awake every night sweating heavily. It’s ME who couldn’t acquire air from it!” I added. Diding’s expression was incredulous. And so we went to argue about it for some minutes or so before breakfast.
Alright, the talking didn’t work. The little problem of ours just got worse. A few nights passed and of course, I would wake up every night uncomfortably. And hell, it was the topic of my debate with Diding every morning. The old electric fan we set up in its usual venue that seemingly, almost magically evading us every night.
Okay, I’ve had it. Tonight, I WILL KNOW for sure what’s happening to that damn fan every night. I really HAVE TO. I will wake up and see to it that they’re having the fan to themselves. I’d even shake them up to consciousness just to prove to them. I thought.
So I played it like we normally do before going sleep. Diding placed the fan nearest to them. I lied awake for some time until I casually dozed off.
But it wasn’t too long before I’m back on my senses again. I didn’t know what time it was. Of course, I can feel nothing from the fan. As I was lying in bed with my eyes still closed, I thought to myself: This is it. I will know for sure who’s really using the fan. I will see it with my own eyes.
And sure did I knew and SAW what was really going on.
As I slowly opened my eyes, I could see that it was very dark but the moonlight coming from the window shooed away some darkness and illuminated some portion of the room. I looked at where the electric fan should be.
It wasn’t there.
Instead the fan is in the other end of the room near the door. But I wasn’t more surprised finding it far from us, than seeing the little girl kneeling in front of the electric fan. And I assure you that I wasn’t dreaming, delusional or imagining at that time. I am very much awake.
I was so stirred up by the sight that still up to this day, I can clearly picture how that girl looked like. Yet I didn’t get up or anything. Do you think I had the strength to? I lied on my bed with my eyes wide open.
She couldn’t have been more than five years old. She has tan skin and (about) shoulder length, bob-hair. What has strike me most was her clothes; she’s wearing a white puffed sleeve dress with a white pinafore on top. Like the dress Alice wore in Alice in Wonderland.
Goodness Lord. Thankfully, she didn’t see me staring at her for she was too preoccupied, rather, enjoying the fan between us...her very black hair flowing away from her face, her hands and legs flat on the ground. Heavens, I wouldn’t know what to do if she met my gaze.
Then a weird feeling overtook me. I suddenly felt so sleepy. Like I was hypnotized and I couldn’t help myself from falling back to sleep. The next day, I never told anyone about it, like I never tell anyone all about my other strange experiences in that house. Apparently, the yanking of the fan in the middle of the night ceased. No more arguments were said and the case was forgotten. But still, I never uttered a single word about what happened after witnessing the truth---the truth I so wished to see. I didn’t wanna scare Diding and her son.
I didn’t want to be alone in that room when night crawled in.