Of haunted places and failed ghost hunts

Photo by Budi Firdaus on Unsplash

Aside from schools, hospitals are believed to be hotspots for ghosts and other paranormal entities. Most schools in the Philippines used to be cemeteries. Hospitals, on the other hand, are perfect dwelling places for spirits in limbo. Those who passed but haven’t passed on are said to wander through wards and halls still looking for the light to guide them to the next realm.

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To add novelty to my growing hospital boredom, I embarked on a ghost hunting mission. One night when my mother was already asleep, I roamed through the bowels of the old building. I made it a point to walk through the empty halls minutes before the clock struck 12 MN. 

On my first visit to PGH, I almost got lost. There were many passages and buildings, not to mention the daily volume of people. To process a blood donation request, you must go through different departments, which were far from one another. On my first night, I ran from one building to another, dashing past wards jam-packed with patients, climbing endless flights of stairs in my rain-soaked rubber shoes squeaking and leaving wet footprints behind.

“Para yan sa mama mo,” the nurse encouraged me as she noticed my hesitation in filing the urgent request. "Nakasalalay sa kamay mo ang buhay niya." 

For first-timers, PGH can feel like a labyrinth—every turn opens a complex maze of hallways and stairwell. Lucky me, I’ve frequented one of the oldest and biggest hospitals in the country and, as a result, have memorized its meandering architecture.

Swallowed in darkness, I started ambling towards the nearest elevator, an ATM was blinking a few feet away. Suddenly, the hairs on my back stood. The area was pitch black except for the neon exit signs glowing from afar. Two black figures caught my vision. Panicking at the sight, I squinted my eyes to refocus.  Common sense kicked in and registered the floating shapes as people. Relieved, I returned to my mother's ward. 

It was 3 AM when a cry from the other ward startled me. From the window next to my mother’s bed, you get a view of the other ward from across a yard. On the opposite ward, doctors were rushing in to resuscitate the patient. The mother, who was the source of the shriek, was crying on one corner. That was the first time I saw someone being revived. A few more attempts and the heartbeat stabilized. The doctors left the room, leaving the parents behind. A few minutes had passed and the doctors returned. This time the mother was wailing. Feeling like an intrusive onlooker, I looked away and glanced at my mother who was asleep. Thankfully, the commotion from the other ward did not wake her. When I looked back, the patient was already covered with a white cloth. 

The next day, the same scene would take place but inside our ward. Suddenly, doctors swarmed around the dying patient’s bed. Curtain dividers were installed. Color codes were announced. Outside, the relatives were slumped along the corridor, their faces contorted in pain. Moments after the body was wheeled out, the relatives went in and started packing. When I went out to throw my trashes in the evening, I saw, lodged in the trash bin, naked pillows and a soiled blanket. At the sight of the discarded patient’s belongings, I was overwhelmed with a crippling sense of dread: We’ve been returning to the hospital multiple times, and during those times we’d come home with our patient. Was it just a matter of time until we head home without mama?

Nothing felt more sobering than death looming nearer and nearer as days passed by. One by one, beds were vacated, new patients came, and the old ones were either discharged or sent to the morgue.

I never set out for another ghost hunting session, because I realized that I did not have to search any more—they were everywhere inside PGH. The air was thick with their presence. The halls were brimming with stories of loss and defeat. The walls were plastered with regret and sorrow. Everywhere I looked, there were ghostly apparitions and ghastly recognitions following me around. 

Even to this day, I am still haunted by those ghosts.