Juancito.

It was like the sound of an owl or an owl, which made itself felt at nightfall and vanished with the first rays of the sun. Like a kind of song or whistle, which was heard close but at the same time far away. A sound that being so constant at dawn, became sinister and tense. It transmitted an adrenaline, which over time became fear. Nobody ever saw him, they could only hear and feel his presence. Some spoke of an evil spirit, of a soul that could not rest in peace, it was heard that it was a mischievous spirit, that scared people, but it was also said about a soul in pain, who was never baptized and indeed , I wandered without rest to get attention. Many theories, but one solution. My grandmother, the wisest and oldest of the neighborhood, took courage, the last time I heard the sound that issued the spirit, closed his eyes and while throwing holy water, recited this phrase: I baptize you as Juancito, in the name of the Father , of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. From that day, apparently, Juancito rest in peace. He never came back. END.

Hive account@gabrielaa Hive account@jesuscarrasquero Brothers read the story. Do you remember that time that our grandmother baptized Juancito?