It all started that Tuesday evening. My grandmother had just returned home from her grocery shopping. She walked straight past the living room, ignoring all of us and went straight into the kitchen. Even before my brother and I could even enquire about the blank expression on her face, my grandmother walked out of the kitchen and out of the main door. She slammed the door shut and went off. My brother and I were curious. We looked at each other and realized that something was amiss. Putting down our Tamagotchis toys, we all ran after our grandmother, and saw her some distance ahead of us.
She walked briskly, clutching her little coin purse tightly. We were shocked as we realized that she was heading to a Chinese wake that was taking place at the void deck of our block. we never knew that our grandmother had a close Chinese friend in the block. All her friends we knew were Indians. She walked in from the back, and stop in front of the picture of the deceased. to everyone's surprised, she picked up three sticks of incense, and lit them. For a minute she stood still, paying her respects. Ignoring the looks from the people there, she pulled a red stools from one of the tables and settled down. All the time, her eyes were fixed on the photo of the deceased as she sat there quietly. Not sure on what to do, we waited. 'Chicken! I want to eat that chicken!' My grandmother burst out suddenly, once again in a tongue foreign to us. Still, we could figure out her actions, as she pointed to the plate of chicken on the altar. While shouting, she had stood up and was about to help herself to the plate of chicken. If we had not rushed out to our grandmother's side, she would have taken the chicken. That action would have rudely shocked everyone present at the wake. We ran to our grandmother and started to pull her away.
'Let's bring her home. Come.' My brother pleaded. He was still shocked that our grandmother would actually make a scene at someone's funeral, especially someone she did not know. Strangely, our grandmother stopped shouting when we touched her. Instead, she looked dazed and lost. We managed to get her home without much difficulty. As we entered our living room, I guided my grandmother to the sofa where she could rest. She did not respond to our questions along the way, but kept staring blankly into the space while keeping her silence. My brother and I were a little apprehensive. 'Maybe we should just pray, Cynthia. We can pray for help,' my brother suggested. 'Yeah, let's do it,' I agreed, not able to come up with a better solution. I held my brother's hands and together, we were getting ready to enter into a chain prayer. 'If you dare to pray, you'll be sorry! I'll not leave you in peace!' Startled, I had to let go of my brother's hands unconsciously. I turned to our grandmother. She had said those words in the voice of an old man. I was truly scared out of my wits, and unable to control myself, I burst into tears. I felt really helpless then. Cynthia, ignore her. Maybe we cannot pray now. Give me the phone,' my brother said. He seemed to know what was happening. Without hesitation, I handed the telephone to my brother. 'Hello, Father?' 'She is possessed, my son. let me handle this.' The father spoke. He had just arrived and the moment he entered the house, my grandmother started to scream. It took my brother and I a long time to calm her down. The Father stood at a corner and observed her. 'In the name of the Lord, I command you, the spirit with madam Santha maria to leave now! leave now!' The Father commanded as he pointed a cross at our grandmother.
'Ahh!' Our grandmother screamed. She fainted. I crossed my fingers and waited. It took her an hour to wake up. I was holding onto a rosary when she came to. 'Cynthia, my dear, is that you? What happened? Why is our Father here?' She appeared puzzled.
'Let's bring her home. Come.' My brother pleaded. He was still shocked that our grandmother would actually make a scene at someone's funeral, especially someone she did not know. Strangely, our grandmother stopped shouting when we touched her. Instead, she looked dazed and lost. We managed to get her home without much difficulty. As we entered our living room, I guided my grandmother to the sofa where she could rest. She did not respond to our questions along the way, but kept staring blankly into the space while keeping her silence. My brother and I were a little apprehensive. 'Maybe we should just pray, Cynthia. We can pray for help,' my brother suggested. 'Yeah, let's do it,' I agreed, not able to come up with a better solution. I held my brother's hands and together, we were getting ready to enter into a chain prayer. 'If you dare to pray, you'll be sorry! I'll not leave you in peace!' Startled, I had to let go of my brother's hands unconsciously. I turned to our grandmother. She had said those words in the voice of an old man. I was truly scared out of my wits, and unable to control myself, I burst into tears. I felt really helpless then. Cynthia, ignore her. Maybe we cannot pray now. Give me the phone,' my brother said. He seemed to know what was happening. Without hesitation, I handed the telephone to my brother. 'Hello, Father?' 'She is possessed, my son. let me handle this.' The father spoke. He had just arrived and the moment he entered the house, my grandmother started to scream. It took my brother and I a long time to calm her down. The Father stood at a corner and observed her. 'In the name of the Lord, I command you, the spirit with madam Santha maria to leave now! leave now!' The Father commanded as he pointed a cross at our grandmother.
'Ahh!' Our grandmother screamed. She fainted. I crossed my fingers and waited. It took her an hour to wake up. I was holding onto a rosary when she came to. 'Cynthia, my dear, is that you? What happened? Why is our Father here?' She appeared puzzled.
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