"What's next?" Gael muttered, staring blankly at the ceiling. After talking with his uncle and aunt and having dinner, he went straight to Roan's room—his cousin who's currently working in Japan. They no longer have a house in Sitio Tanglaw because one of his mom's siblings sold it years ago. He wasn't sure what steps to take—he only knew he wanted to visit his parents' graves and see Matteo.
"Why?" he asked himself aloud, his voice echoing softly in the room. Why is it that whenever he mentions Matteo, everyone seems to avoid the topic—Meissy, and even his uncle and aunt? Maybe they think he has feelings for Matteo? It's funny, really, they might be thinking that, but it's not true. Matteo was just his friend back then, but it seems people got the wrong idea. But if Matteo has a wife and child now, he's happy for his friend.
He closed his eyes, hoping the rain would lull him to sleep. The sound of it on the leaves, roof, and window should have been comforting, but tonight it wasn't working. In the province, he would usually fall asleep early, with no late-night activities like bars, drinking, or disco. But even though there's Wifi in his aunt's house, the signal is frustratingly weak. No matter how many times he blinked or shifted positions, sleep just wouldn't come. He had even had coffee earlier before dinner because it was cold and rainy—that's how it is in the province, coffee is the go-to for the cold.
He abruptly sat up, tightly hugging his pillow. His sleepwear was thin, and he didn't expect it to be this cold—or maybe it was just the chilly breeze from the rain. Hesitant to get up, he wondered if it was right to go out in this weather. He had been thinking about it earlier, that maybe he should just go out since sleep seemed to have no plans of visiting him. Having nothing else to do, he finally stood up and went to the window, opening it. It was quiet outside, with only the sound of the rain and the crickets.
Since the house was close to the road, that's where he looked, noticing that even at night, that area wasn't too dark. As he stared, he suddenly noticed a man—dressed in black and holding an umbrella. He was quietly walking under the rain.
The man paused, seeming to sense that someone was watching him. Gael held his breath, watching intently for any unusual movement. Then, unexpectedly, the man turned and looked directly at him. The distance obscured his face in the darkness of the night. The man stood there for a moment, staring at the open door where Gael stood, before abruptly turning and disappearing into the night. 
A shiver ran down Gael's spine as the rain intensified, and thunder rumbled ominously. Lightning streaked across the sky, briefly illuminating the figure of the man in black as he retreated into the darkness. The subsequent thunderclap was deafening, shaking the ground beneath him.
He shook his head as he closed the window. He wasn’t scared at all; although the man seemed strange, he hated the assumption he had formed in his mind. Sometimes, he thought, our mind can trick us with conclusions that only scare us. He walked to the door and descended the stairs; no one was in the living room. He was sure his uncle, aunt, and Meissy were already asleep. 
He went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He sighed in relief when he saw beer. Ten bottles in all. He knew they were belong to his uncle's, but he thought his uncle wouldn't be mad if he took two bottles. He smiled and grabbed two bottles. He wasn't even startled by the sudden thunderclap that came with the lightning.
Just as he closed the refrigerator door, plunging the kitchen into darkness, Gael reacted with a calm that surprised even himself. He didn't shriek or panic like some might—he simply stiffened, his eyes darting around in the blackness, trying to discern any shapes or movement. "Well, this is inconvenient," he whispered to himself, trying to stay calm. He stood there for a moment, debating his next move, when he heard it: footsteps.
Now, Gael wasn't easily spooked, but the footsteps were unmistakable, and they definitely weren't his own. They sounded too close for comfort, each one echoing ominously in the quiet kitchen. "Alright, who's there?" he called out, trying to inject a casual bravado into his voice, despite the nerves that were starting to creep up on him.
He could hear and feel the sound of footsteps getting closer. "Maybe it's just the cat," he whispered and joked to himself, but he hadn’t seen any cats that afternoon. Okay, he concluded, maybe it was a stray cat or a hungry cat that entered the house. He took a cautious step forward, feeling a strange mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Suddenly, he caught a whiff of something unpleasant—a familiar, pungent odor that eerily reminded him of the strange smell he had encountered in the garden earlier that afternoon. "Great," he muttered sarcastically, "now it smells like a haunted house." He kept saying things to distract himself from the fear creeping in.
With a deep breath to steady himself, Gael tightened his grip on the beer bottle he had been holding since the power went out. "Alright, whatever you are," he said louder, hoping to sound more confident than he felt, "show yourself, or I'm cracking open this beer, and we can have a chat about proper houseguest etiquette.” He laughed, but it wasn't his usual laugh because he wasn't really laughing, and he felt like he needed to pee.
Even though Gael tried not to be scared, he couldn't help the strange feeling that there was someone standing behind him or staring at him with full attention. "Seriously, Gael, get a grip," he whispered to himself, hoping to muster some courage. “You're not a kid anymore to be scared of ghosts, okay? There's no ghost.” He whispered to himself.
He cautiously took another step forward, the floorboards creaking softly under his weight. Suddenly, a door somewhere in the house opened with a slow, eerie creak. "It's probably just Uncle," he reasoned aloud, trying to calm his racing heart. He took a deep breath, preparing to call out to his uncle, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out. His throat felt dry and constricted, making it impossible to speak. "Damn it," he cursed quietly, frustration creeping into his voice.
Gael stood frozen for a moment, torn between the urge to investigate the noise and the instinct to stay rooted to the spot. "Okay, Gael, this is ridiculous," he scolded himself, trying to muster the courage to move forward. "Just go check and prove to yourself that there's nothing to be afraid of." Steadying his nerves, he slowly made his way towards where he thought the sound had come from, his hand still tightly gripping the beer bottle for some semblance of comfort.
But he stopped. He noticed something. A figure he couldn't explain. Because every time lightning slashed through the darkness, Gael caught a glimpse of a figure standing near the sofa. It looked like a person. But it was facing away from him. It remained motionless. But was he seeing it right? He asked himself. Was that really a person? Was he going crazy, or was he just mistaken? His heart raced with each flicker of lightning, providing brief snapshots of his eerie surroundings. Yet, there it was, the figure unmoved, its silhouette hauntingly still.
With a shaky breath, Gael finally summoned the courage to speak to that man-figure because he thought it was his uncle, "W-Who's there?" His voice echoed softly in the dimly lit room. But no answer came from the figure that was facing away from him. He repeated himself, the urgency in his tone growing, "Who's there?"
The figure remained silent, adding to the tension thickening in the air. The storm outside raged on, casting erratic shadows that played tricks on Gael's mind. Each subsequent flash of lightning seemed to distort reality further, leaving him questioning what he saw. "Is this real?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Gael's mind raced, trying to piece together a rational explanation. Maybe it was a trick of the light, a shadow cast by the storm. But deep down, he knew there was something unsettling about the figure's presence. The smell of dampness and decay lingered faintly in the air, reminiscent of the odd odor he had noticed earlier.
"G-Gael? What are you doing there?" It was Sylvia's voice, carrying a flashlight as she came down the stairs. Suddenly, the power came back on.
"T-Tia? Oh, I was just getting some beer because I can't sleep. Just two bottles," he replied with a smile but still glancing around him.
Sylvia smiled, "But it seems like you're already drunk?"
Gael laughed, "I'm not drunk—though that's what I thought, even though I haven't had any alcohol yet. I just saw what seemed like a shadow earlier, and believe it or not, it was scary to look at."
Sylvia's expression turned serious. "A shadow? Hmm... okay, go back to your room, I’ll get some cold water. Good night again."
"Yes, tita, I'll go back to my room!" Gael said, quickly heading back upstairs.
As Gael settled back into his room, the tension slowly ebbed away. Sylvia's presence had dispelled the eerie atmosphere, replacing it with a sense of reassurance. Yet, the image of the mysterious figure lingered in his mind, refusing to fade completely. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more to what he had seen, something that unsettled him deeply.
Once in his room, he glanced out the window at the storm still raging outside. The thunder boomed in the distance, and lightning continued to illuminate the sky. He chuckled to himself nervously, realizing how easily his imagination had run wild in the dark.
Taking a deep breath, he started to fill his glass with beer. Outside, the storm gradually subsided, and peace settled over the quiet countryside.