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Old 08-24-2007, 12:23 AM   #1
joey1320
 
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one of my mothers' stories...

I want to write a book about my mothers stories while growing up. She has a lot of scary stories to tell and i would like to make a book out of them for others to enjoy, so heres one.

(99% of this story is true. as true as the goosebumps and tears my mother had when she told it to me many years ago. the other 1% is just me adding to the story a better picture and feel. the following is how i would write it down if i was ever to do a book)


I was 12 or 13 when i first heard the full stories. Before then i had only heard bits and pieces of them all but never fully understanding what it all was or exactly what the stories were about. I was always told to leave the room or go outside when my mother was asked to go into details about her families spiritual background and the unexplainable situations which her parents,
brothers and sister had gone through.

But that night was different. That night i came to understand the full meaning of it all. I was able to hide on the stairs leading to the 2nd floor of my parents house and i quietly sat there for hours listening to my mother's angelical voice recite the stories she had carried with her for so many years after leaving the island of puerto rico as if they were videomovies of a time long gone but always remembered.

I will start with one of the most vivid stories she told. it involves one of my uncles. i honestly can't recall his name, we-the kids- called him uncle paco and thats the name we always used until the day he died.

Uncle Paco was in his late 20's, he was a hard worker and a harder drinker. There were many friday nights when he had to crawl back into the house after spending the weeks' paycheck at the local bar and not having enough money the following monday to buy a simple ham and cheese sandwich during lunch hour.

He also had a raspy voice. i'm not sure if it was because of the hard liquor he drank or the many ciggaretes he smoked but his voice sounded like that of an italian in the hollywood gangster movies, it was more of a croak really.

He always gave me the chills when he spoke. And the first thing he ever did when he saw my cousins, brothers or me was to call us all and make us form a line in front of him. Then he would walk down the line and feel our ears. After feeling everyones ears once or twice he would stop in front of one of us and pull out a 8" army knive that he always carried and tell whichever was the lucky one, with his scary voice, that he was gonna cut both his ears and fry them like they did to the pigs. There were many times i was the lucky one and i couldn't sleep for days thinking about that knive... crazy uncles we had!!!

So my Uncle Paco went to the bar on a friday afternoon like he had done many times before and it was almost 1 o'clock in the morning when he stumbled back into the house. My mother was in the living room watching the television when my uncle walked in and she helped him to the room which was next to the living room. She was the only one up at this time of night since her family had gone to sleep hours before.

It was about 1/2 an hour later that my mother heard my uncle coughing loudly and gasping for air. At first she just kept watching the tv but the gasping continued to get louder and louder as if my uncle was suffocating in the other room. She went to the room and opened the door and was shocked to see what looked to be thousands and thousands of mosquitoes all around my uncles bed attached to the mosquito net and literraly stopping the flow of oxigen into the bed. She said the netting looked black, you could not see into the bed. all you could hear was the buzzing of the wings and my uncle's
gasps for air and turning in his bed. He was not speaking or trying to fight off the mosquitoes, he seemed to still be asleep and not fully understaing what was happening.

My mother tried to walk into the room to help my uncle and maybe kill some of the mosquitoes but she wasn't able to. There was some kind of barrier preventing her from entering the room. She knew she had to do something since her brother sounded like he was ready to choke to death, so she went and got my grandfather.

My grandfather came hurrying to the room after hearing my mother telling him about the mosquitoes, which by the way were not flying anywhere esle in the house but in my uncle's room. And was also prevented from entering the room. Right away he told my mother to get her mom and go outside and get some of the plants he kept next to the statue of the Virgin Mary.

My mother did as she was told. She got her mother and they went out to the backyard and got some of the plants my grandfather kept by the big statue of the Virgin Mary. They came back into the house and ran to my uncle's room and there was my grandfather along with another one of my uncles, who my grandfather had woken up, each holding a bible and my grandfather also holding a rosary.

When my grandfather saw his wife he told her to get the holly water they kept in their room and to put it in a small bowl and to put the small plants they had just gotten in it and bring it all back to him. My grandmother did so and brought the bowl full of water and plants back to the opening of my uncles room where my grandfather and uncle Carlos were shouting at the mosquitoes with their bibles in front of them as shields.

My grandfather grabbed the bowl and dunked the rosary into the holly water and started splashing the water into the room at the mosquitoes and yelling at the top of his lungs for the mosquitoes to leave the room since they were not creatures of light or were wanted in this christian house.

It was about 20 minutes of yelling, splashing and praying-and my mother saw as if caught by a whrlwind, the mosquitoes all caught up in this fast rotating action dissapear as if they were never there.

My uncle was still asleep but his gasping and coughing stopped and once they could finally walk into the room they noticeds he was completely covered in sweat and trembling. My granfather tried to wake him but he was still drunk. so it wasn't until the next day when they told him what happened and he responded that he tought he was actually dreaming it all. He rememberit all but he didn't know it had really happened. He tought ut was just a dream. He was really surprised to find out that it wasn't just a dream, it was real. My mother saw it with her own eyes and she was around 16 years old when it happened.

So nobody knows where the mosquitoes came from or how they got there. only thing she knows is that as my grandfather kept yelling and splashing the holly water, the buzzing kept gettign louder and louder until it stopped and the mosquitoes went intot he whirlwind motion and dissapeared...



And thats just one of the 20+ stories she has experienced... and thats one of the less scary ones... I just gotta put them down on paper and write down the detailed descriptions she has of them all. They are all real by the way.

Even now, 30+ years later she still gets goosebumps and cries when she tells them... i will like to get my remaining aunts and uncles together to talk about these stories.

Last edited by joey1320; 08-24-2007 at 12:38 AM.
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Old 08-24-2007, 08:34 AM   #2
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keep the stories coming.....very interesting
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Old 08-24-2007, 08:46 AM   #3
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Wow, what a story. Keep them comming.

Sounds like a movie in the making.
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