Omar (Narrator) (4:49)

One summer day, like any other day, I go to my grandma's bedroom to look for a nail clipper. I'm rummaging through all of her stuff.

Grandma/Family Members (4:57)

Cremas, creams, perfumes, perfumes, munaquitos, ragdolls.

Omar (Narrator) (5:09)

And suddenly I feel some kind of. I don't know how to describe it. Some kind of energy. As if someone is staring at me. I'm compelled to look up. When I do, I see this painting. I don't know if the painting has always been there, but it's the first time I'm seeing it. It's an oil canvas portrait of a young woman who looks a little bit older than me. It's painted so well that it looks like a photograph. She's wearing a green blouse and her hair is tied in a bun. The woman is facing forward and I feel as if she has her eyes fixed on me. It doesn't feel like an optical illusion. The painting is actually staring at me. It's not moving. It's more of a feeling.

Grandma/Family Members (6:29)

El Cuadro y Manava, Manava Sierra Sierra Tristesa.

Omar (Narrator) (6:33)

I sense this sadness. I see it in her eyes. But she's smiling in this way that doesn't feel natural. Like she's faking it. Almost like an upside down smile. From then on, every time I step into grandma's room, I can feel this strange heaviness. As if someone doesn't want me inside. One day I finally asked my grandma,

Grandma/Family Members (7:13)

quie nes la muchacha de la photografia?

Omar (Narrator) (7:15)

Who is the girl in the portrait? And my grandma tells me it's her when she was 15. I'm surprised to hear that. I'm expecting. I want it to be somebody else. She tells me that the portrait had been a gift from her father for her quinceanos. Looking at the photo again, I guess, yeah. The young woman has my grandma's features, similar head shape and hairstyle. She still uses a hair bunch of. But I still feel weird about it all. I mean, my grandma looks great in the portrait, but she also looks kind of spooky. But since we gotta respect our elders, I don't tell grandma that the portrait scares me. So I'm in the kitchen one evening. It's around 7pm I'm pouring myself a glass of water. When I start to hear a woman sob.

Grandma/Family Members (8:36)

Unsoyoso muy, muy leve, pero. Audible.

Omar (Narrator) (8:41)

A soft but audible sob. So first I'm like, it's Grandma. It's coming from her room. So I walk down to the hall to her door. As I'm turning the handle, I can still hear the sobbing. But as I step inside, it stops. What's going on? My grandma's not here. This makes no sense. That's when I noticed the portrait. The woman is in the same position, But her eyes have this watery glow. Even though I'm standing a few feet away, I can see it clearly. The woman's eyes are shining as if she has been crying. They're tears. They are definitely tears. A shiver runs down my spine. This is like, no, this is definitely not normal. I'm just way too overwhelmed. So I take two steps back and close the door. I quickly look for my grandma. She's out in the backyard watering her plants. I run up to her and tell

Grandma/Family Members (10:29)

her, abuela,

Omar (Narrator) (10:34)

Grandma, your portrait is crying. And she just gives me this stare. She looks concerned, but also somehow relieved. I don't know how to really explain it.

Grandma/Family Members (10:50)

She tells me, como vastar yorando retratomijo.

Omar (Narrator) (10:53)

What do you mean the portrait is crying, Mijo? Yes, Grandma, I'm telling you, the portrait is crying. She grabs me by the arm and says, come with me. We step into the house and go to her room. She looks at the portrait. She doesn't say a word.

Grandma/Family Members (11:18)

Y agar al cuadro el a tom el cuadro los cuelva.

Omar (Narrator) (11:22)

She just grabs it from the wall and takes it down. Then she presses it against her chest as if she's hugging. Almost seems as if she's trying to prevent the portrait from looking around. Then Grandma steps out of the house with the portrait and goes to the backyard patio, where she has her washing machine and dryer. Underneath the patio roof, there's a shelf, and that's where she puts the painting. She then tells me, don't worry, mijo. I don't like the painting that much anyway. Then she just grabs the garden hose and keeps watering the plants as if nothing happened. I'm like, if Grandma knows what to do, I guess everything's fine. So I don't ask any questions. I don't feel like talking, and I don't want to be called irrational or silly. After that, everything seems to quiet down. And honestly, I just kind of forget about it. I keep going out to the backyard during the day to play and Nothing happens until three nights later.

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Grandma/Family Members (14:02)

Destamos Hernando. Toca la puerta. Mi abuela le abre.

Omar (Narrator) (14:08)

We're having dinner when we hear a knock at the front door. My grandma opens the door and it's Dona Carmen, my grandma's neighbor.

Grandma/Family Members (14:22)

Dona Carmen says, elena, estas bien?

Omar (Narrator) (14:26)

Elena, are you okay? My grandma is surprised and says, si,

Grandma/Family Members (14:32)

por que de veria del no estarlo?

Omar (Narrator) (14:34)

Yes, why shouldn't I be? Dona Carmen tells her, The thing is, I just heard someone crying in your backyard and I thought it was you. I thought something had happened to you or your children. So my grandma gets my uncle, who was living with her at the time, to go out into the yard and investigate. The rest of us stay inside. At this point, I'm thinking, yeah, there probably is a real person who's crying for whatever reason. That seems logical. But then my uncle comes back and says, I didn't see or hear anything. Maybe it's coming from somewhere else. Maybe it was some music or something. But it's definitely not from here. But Dona Carmen replies, someone was crying. I heard it. That's when I think, no way this is happening Again. There's crying, but then there's nothing. But this time it's not me who's hearing it, it's the neighbors. I feel goosebumps running down my spine, but I don't say anything to anyone.

Grandma/Family Members (16:21)

A la noche siginte.

Omar (Narrator) (16:29)

The following night, it's late. I'm in bed and just about to fall asleep, but I really, really need to go to the bathroom. But at the same time, I'm scared to go outside. I have to walk across the whole backyard, past all these trees and plants, then finally get to the outhouse, right next to the fence that divides the yard from the neighbors. My uncle is still awake, so I ask him if he can go with me. He says, okay.

Grandma/Family Members (17:06)

La noche estava muyo obscura. No havia luna.

Omar (Narrator) (17:12)

The night is very dark. No moon, no. No animals or nature sounds. No dogs. We walk across the backyard and get to the outhouse. I open the door, go in and close the door. I start doing my business. I can hear my uncle right outside lighting up a cigarette and smoking. Then suddenly he tells me, You know what? Do you remember when Dona Carmen showed up and asked my mom if everything was okay and then I had to go outside and check? I say, yes, but you didn't see anything? He says, no. Actually, the thing is that I did see something or someone under the lemon trees. I saw two holes in the dirt, as if someone was kneeling down. I don't know if he's telling this to scare me or if he's telling the truth. But my first thought is, well, then this has got to be an actual person who was in our backyard last night. And then I think, I don't actually know if a living person is scarier than a spirit. My uncle tells me I'm going inside real quick. I'm just going to get another cigarette. I say, okay, but do it quickly. I don't want to be here alone. I hear his steps on the dirt and dry leaves. I can hear the house door open and close. Not even 30 seconds pass when I start to hear, like muffled steps. Someone's dragging their feet outside the outhouse. It's definitely not my uncle. Suddenly I hear the crying again. It's a woman. It's coming from the backyard. Unlike the sobs I heard in Grandma's room. Now it's a loud weeping. It's very heartbreaking. My hands start sweating. I stop what I'm doing somehow. I wipe myself, pull up my underwear and come out of the outhouse with my pants still around my ankles, dragging on the ground. I start running across the yard to my grandma's house. That's when I see something moving among the lemon trees. The weeping now turns into wailing. I turn my head to the place where the sound is coming from. That's when I see her for the first time. I don't know whether to describe her as a lady, a woman, or a presence. She's about 15 meters away. And she's wearing a long old fashioned dress. Her skin is very pale and she has long strands of messy hair. She's kneeling on the ground. Her hands are covering her face. She's hunched over, as if she has been in the same position for a long time. Hands. Her fingers are so long and thin. I'm petrified. I literally can't move. Then she turns her face towards me. In between the strands of her hair, I can see her eyes. That's when I realize that those eyes are the very same eyes in the portrait. There's no doubt about it. I just know. It's the same gaze. That strong, penetrating stare. But this time it's no longer full of sadness. It's brimming with hate. Somehow I break through this trance. I run towards the house. And when I open the door, my uncle is in the hallway. He was just about to come out. At that moment I feel that if I tell my uncle what I just saw, he won't believe me. In the back of my mind I'm thinking, Grandma would better understand what's going on. So I run to my grandma's room. I'm almost in tears. I say, grandma, I just saw a lady crying. She tells me, maybe it's Sonia Carmen. Something must have happened to her. It's not Dona Carmen. I know who Dona Carmen is. And that person wasn't Dona Carmen. So my grandma calls Dona Carmen on the phone.

Grandma/Family Members (23:40)

Oye, Carmen, Este minieto dijo que oyorando.

Omar (Narrator) (23:45)

Hey Carmen. My grandson says he saw you crying. Are you okay? Dona Carmen says, no, Elena, I haven't left the house at all. I've been asleep for hours. My grandma tells me, oh, mijo.

Grandma/Family Members (24:05)

Hi, mijo. Salamojor los unas.

Omar (Narrator) (24:08)

Well, maybe you dreamed it. No, Grandma, I didn't dream about it. You can't dream this up. I'm terrified. I tell my grandma to let me sleep with her that night. I don't want to sleep alone. So she lays a folding bed next to her own bed for me. I'm trying to shut my eyes and fall asleep, but I still feel like I'm in danger. I don't know how, but I finally managed to fall asleep. But then I wake up.

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Glenn Washington (25:36)

Foreign

Omar (Narrator) (25:40)

it's probably around 3:30 or 4:00am Everyone is asleep. But I noticed that the motion detector lamp in the hallway. It's on. Something or someone is out there. Then I start to hear a sound. Like when dogs scratch the door when they want to go out. It sounds like nails scratching on the bedroom door.

Grandma/Family Members (26:17)

Yo me sienton la cama.

Omar (Narrator) (26:20)

Now I sit up in my bed. Then I turn my head to the right, towards the door. That thing. The woman is now inside the house. The bedroom door is open and she's scratching it with one of her fingers. Scratching, scratching, scratching, scratching. She's like five meters away. This thing looks like my grandma, or at least when she was younger. Her face is upset and angry. She's giving me this cold stare. I want to wake my grandma up, but I can't breathe. I can't scream. I've never been this scared. And then this woman or thing takes a step into the room. I try waking Grandma up. I use my arm and tap on her chest. She finally wakes up. Then she grabs her Bible and starts praying. She doesn't scream. She doesn't seem scared. She just reads and prays. This thing covers its ears with both hands. Then it makes a sign over its mouth with its long skinny finger. Then it starts, like sliding through the hallway back towards the door, towards the exit. It disappears into the distance while my grandma keeps reading. I'm still frozen. I can't move. Then my grandma gets out of the bed and runs after her. I don't know if it's out of fear or courage, but I also get up and go out. I don't want to be alone in that room. We go to where the lemon trees are. And this woman is now lying on the ground. Her hands are covering her face. She's crying again. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Then the crying gradually turns into this laugh. A very, very sinister laugh. As if my grandma's prayers and efforts aren't working. Then all of a sudden, the woman lifts her arms up and stretches them backwards, as if she's bending and throwing her head back. And just like that, She disappears. We don't see anything. It's all quiet now. We can hear the dogs in the distance, barking at nothing. I hug my grandma and she says, Don't worry, son. What can't touch us, can't harm us. And then she's Like, I'm going to have a cup of coffee, mijo. Don't you want one? Come on, let's go inside. We go straight to the kitchen. The sun's now coming up. We sit in silence at the dining table. I'm unable to talk. I'm stirring my coffee, trying to eat some cookies. I don't understand how my grandma is so calm. But if she's so calm, I feel like I need to be calm, too. The next day, I grab and pack a few clothes I have with me. I want to go back home to my parents. I tell my grandma that I'd better go home. All she says is, estabien medijo. It's okay. It's okay. She doesn't say anything else. She just goes, it's okay, son. You can come back anytime, you know. But I don't. I end up spending the rest of the summer with my parents. Even then, there were so many nights where I couldn't fall asleep. I felt that if I closed my eyes and I opened them again, I would see her. Now as an adult. I still think about this story a lot. My grandma clearly knew how to deal with the whole situation. And that's why she was so calm about everything. Maybe there was more to the portrait, more to this story, but she wouldn't tell me. Even 20 years later, she won't tell me a thing. I'll be drinking coffee with her in the very same living room. I'll ask her about that night and the portrait. And she just says, Don't worry, mijo. It's all right now. Just forget about it. Maybe she wants to forget those memories. Or maybe she is still trying to protect me. I don't really know anything about her. When she was young, what if she was a witch? Maybe the artist imprinted it with something evil. Even then, I know that my grandma will never get rid of it because it means a lot to her. Maybe things are better left as they are. Not too long ago, I was talking to my uncle and he told me that Grandma still has the painting. Apparently, she wrapped it in black plastic and relocated it to the very back of the backyard inside the storage warehouse. That's where the painting lives, even until this day. And it will probably never come out again. The image of that woman covering its ears and telling us to stop praying still haunts me to this day. That thing doesn't need our help.

Glenn Washington (34:50)

Thank you, Omar, for sharing your story with Spook. All the way from Mexico, Lionel Garza gave Omar his voice in English. The original score for the story is from Nicholas Marks. The story is produced by Story scout and Story producer Eric Yanez. Now I have a question for you. Do you have a connection with another person that cannot be explained? Do you see through someone else's eyes? Can you feel the burden someone else carries? Maybe your twin, your cousin, your friend, maybe even your enemy? Do you share a bond that defies the laws of what it's supposed to be? Maybe you don't feel you can tell anyone because no one will understand. Well, tell me. I want to know. Because there is nothing better than a spooked story from a spooked listener. Spooked@snapjudgment.org and the best way to signal not just the dark side, but the spooked community in the know, the best way to signal them is by sporting the spook T shirt of your very own. Nothing sexier in all the land available right now@snapjudgment.org and if you like your storytelling under the bright light of day, get the amazing Stupendous Sister podcast. It's called Snap Judgment and it is storytelling with the beat. Spook was created by the team that knows exactly where they are when they wake up in the morning. Except, of course, Mark Ristich. I might have to give him a few guesses. There's Davy Kim, Chris Hambrick, Leon Morimoto, Taylor Da Cott, Marissa Dodge, Zoe Ferrigno, Ann Ford, Eric Yanez, Cody Harjo, Lola Abrera, Doug Stewart, Miles Lassie, Yari Bundy. The Spook theme song is by Pat Mesini Miller. My name is Glenn Washington, and just like we love to make pretend that life is fair, we also love to imagine that the same rules apply. No matter where you are, no what matter, matter who you are, no matter who is there, no matter the hour of the day or the time of the year. But such nonsense is for the simple minded. And it's not how the shadow operates. Because sometimes the supposedly impenetrable barrier between here and there, between what is lost and what is soon to be lost, that barrier diminishes to smoke, granting one side more power. And you can't predict the when, the where, the why, the how. All you can do is look it in the face when it comes. And that is why I advise everyone I care about to never ever, ever, never, never, ever, ever turn out blight. It.