Why are you so scared of visiting the Philippines? I used to think my cousin was being dramatic when he told me never to travel through the countryside there at night. Last summer, my family and I went to visit relatives in the Philippines. It was my first time going, and honestly, I was excited. We spent the first few days in Manila, visiting family, eating out, and exploring. Everything was normal until we took a trip to my grandmother’s old village. It was about a four-hour drive, and by the time we arrived, it was already dark. My uncle told us there was one rule. If we heard someone calling our name outside after midnight, we were not supposed to answer. I laughed. He didn’t. That night, I was sleeping in a small room near the back of the house. Around 1:30 AM, I heard someone walking outside my window. Then I heard my name. It sounded like my mother. I got up and looked through the curtains. There was a woman standing near the gate. She was facing the house, completely still. I thought it was my mom, so I opened the door. Before I could step outside, my grandmother grabbed my arm. “That’s not your mother,” she whispered. I turned around. My actual mother was asleep in the room across the hallway. We locked the door. The next morning, I asked my uncle who had been outside. He went quiet. Then he told me something that made my stomach drop. The woman I described sounded exactly like his younger sister. She had died when he was a child. I thought that was strange, but I tried not to think about it. The next day, we went to a nearby beach. On the drive back, our car stopped working on a narrow road surrounded by trees. My uncle got out to check the engine. While we waited, I noticed a little boy standing beside the road. He was wearing a school uniform. He waved at me. I waved back. Then he started walking toward the car. My grandmother immediately pulled the curtains shut. She told everyone to stay quiet. A few seconds later, we heard small footsteps walking around the car. Then a child’s voice came from outside. “Can you let me in? It’s getting dark.” My uncle started the engine. We drove away without saying a word. When we got home, I asked why nobody helped the boy. My grandmother looked at me. “That road doesn’t have a school.” I thought that would be the end of it. But on our last night, I woke up to someone knocking on my bedroom door. Three slow knocks. Then my mother’s voice. “Come outside. We need to leave.” I checked my phone. It was 2:13 AM. I called my mother. She answered from her room. I could hear her breathing. She was still asleep. Then the voice outside spoke again. This time, it sounded exactly like me. “Please open the door. I’m still outside.” I didn’t move. The handle slowly turned. In the morning, my uncle found muddy footprints outside my bedroom. They started at the front gate. They ended directly in front of my door. But the strangest part was what my grandmother told me before we left. She said the thing outside had been calling my name since the first night. And because I had waved at the little boy on the road, it now knew I could see it. I’m supposed to visit the Philippines again next summer. Yesterday, my grandmother called and asked me something. She wanted to know why I had been standing outside her house last night. I told her I was in America. She went silent. Then she said: “Then who has been sleeping in your room?” #scarystories #scary #creepystorytime #horrortok #phillipines - @metaphysiko