Hola querida comunidad, tengo tiempo viendo los post y todo esto de lo paranormal me parece interesante y tambien me da miedo, por lo que mejor leer los post de días 🤣🤣, hoy les quiero contar una historia de algo que me paso hace muchos años, tendría yo 9 o 10 años, pero antes es importante que les cuente quien es el silbon. Aca en mi país, existen o se hablan de los que yo les llamo los espantos tradicionales y es porque son conocidos en casi todo el país.

Cuenta la leyenda que el silbon era un niño muy mimado por sus padres y todo lo que queria se lo daban, asi transcurrio su vida hasta convertirse en un hombre adulto, un dia dijo que quería comer asaduras y su padre intento cazar un animal pero no lo logro, por lo que el se molesto y lo asesinó, sacandole las "asaduras" que serian como los intestinos y se los llevo a la mamá para que lo cocinará, esta se dió cuenta y lo maldijo a vagar con los huesos de su padre en un saco. Ahora, ¿por que silva? no lo sé y solo haciendo este post es que me lo cuestionó, pero dicen que vaga por el llano principalmente entonando un silvido particular.

Esta historia no es mía y no puedo dar creditos porque no se quien la contó, la version que les escribo es la que me contaba mi abuelo (un hombre que tuvo varios encunetros con fantasmas). Otros dicen que se sienta frente a las casas a contar los huesos y que va acompañado de perros, y por otros me refiero a mis amigos de infancia que en los circulos de historia de terror tenian algo que aportar. Un dato importantisimo es que se dice que si lo escuchas cerca esta lejos y si lo escuchas lejos esta cerca.

Ahora mi historia se situa unos 15 años atrás, era semana santa y estabamos en los andes venezolanos en una montaña pues alli viven mis abuelos paternos. Cabe decir que, para llegar a la casa de mis abuelos hay que subir un camino de alrededor de 400 metros que esta al lado de una quebrada con zonas boscosas y se tarda como 10 minutos si eres rapido si eres yo tardas 20, en esos dias estaban mis primos y otros chicos de mi edad, por lo que los dias no eran aburridos, pese a que alla no habia televisión. Un día yo me distraje y cuando me doy cuenta mis primos no estaban y yo pregunto donde estan y me dicen que bajaron a la carretera.

Yo que no queria aburrirme dije pues yo tambien voy a la carretera aprovechando que mi papá y mi tío tambien estaban allá. Baje con dos muchachos e ibamos echando cuento de cualquier cosa, al llegar a la carretera resulta que mis primos no estaban, probablemente se habian ido con mi abuelo a buscar la vaca o ver la siembra asi que yo quede 🤡, estuve un buen rato e hice que mi papa me comprara un refresco en una bodeguita, cuando yo estoy alli tranquila yo empiezo a escuchar un silbido pero no le pare porque era una casa podia haber gente adentro silbando, no era algo de alarma (alerta si debi alarmarme o al menos preguntar ¿escuchan eso?).

Termine mi refresco y como mi plan habia fallado dije tocara subir de nuevo, para ver si mis primos ya llegaron. Y comenzamos a subir los mismos que habiamos bajado que el mayor tendria cuando mucho 12 años, cuando llevabamos como 1/4 del camino yo me percato que habia dejado mis guantes en la bodega (alla hace mucho frio) y sabia que si los `perdia me iban a regañar, cuando yo digo que los deje los que andaban conmigo me dicen baja los buscas y subes, pero yo les dije "nooo, bajamos todos porque me da miedo".

Y en ese momento comenzo a sonar ese silbido escalofriante tan caracteristicos, yo en el momento quede como en shock, paralizada tal vez procesando y uno de los muchachos dice ¡Ese es el silbon corran! y en ese camino que no tiene asfalto, yo me lance a correr porque preferia caerme que seguir alli, si me preguntan no se escuchaba ni cerca ni lejos,o los nervios no me dejaron procesar. Y con el corazon a millon llegamos a la carretera para conseguir que mi papá habia guardado los guantes. Y al vernos tan asustados nos preguntaron que paso pero cuando contamos no nos creyeron, nuevamente quede 🤡.

Y estabamos frente a una diatriba esperar que los adultos subieran o subir nosotros solos de nuevo, luego de debatirlo y entendiendo que esperar significaba como 1 hora y en tiempo infantil eso era como media vida, decidimos subir, rezando a todos los santos otro iba diciendo groserías y al acercarnos al tramo del suceso (el lugar es la foto que esta arriba) corrimos de nuevo hasta que lo dejamos atras. Desde ese día no subo sola y apenas oscurece prefiero estar dentro de la casa. En esa semana a mis primos tambien le pasaron cosas y la conclusion de mi mamá fue por eso en semana santa hay que estar en sintonia con Dios.

Bueno amigos, espero que les haya parecido interesante esta anecdota cuentenme ¿Conocian este espanto?, ¿Creen que fue real o alguien nos jugo una broma?

Hello dear community, I've been watching the posts and all this paranormal stuff seems interesting and also scares me, so it's better to read the posts of days 🤣🤣, today I want to tell you a story of something that happened to me many years ago, I would have 9 or 10 years old, but before it's important that I tell you who the silbon is. Here in my country, there are or are spoken of the ones I call the traditional scares because they are known almost throughout the country.

The legend says that the silbon was a very spoiled child by his parents and everything he wanted they gave it to him, so his life went by until he became an adult man, one day he said he wanted to eat entrails and his father tried to hunt an animal but he did not achieve it, so he got angry and killed him, taking out the "entrails" that would be like the intestines and took them to the mother to cook them, she realized it and cursed him to wander with his father's bones in a bag. Now, why silva? I don't know and only by making this post is that I question it, but they say that he wanders through the plain mainly singing a particular whistle.

This story is not mine and I can't give credits because I don't know who told it, the version that my grandfather told me (a man who had several encounters with ghosts) is the one I'm writing. Others say that he sits in front of the houses to count the bones and that he is accompanied by dogs, and by others I mean my childhood friends who in the circles of horror history had something to contribute. A very important fact is that it is said that if you hear it close it is far away and if you hear it far away it is close.

Now my story is located about 15 years ago, it was Holy Week and we were in the Venezuelan Andes in a mountain because that's where my paternal grandparents live. It should be said that, to get to my grandparents' house you have to take a road of about 400 meters that is next to a ravine with wooded areas and it takes about 10 minutes if you are fast if you are me you take 20, in those days my cousins and other boys of my age were there, so the days were not boring, despite the fact that there was no television there. One day I got distracted and when I realize my cousins are not there and I ask where they are and they tell me they went down to the road

I, who did not want to be bored, said well I'm also going to the road taking advantage of the fact that my father and my uncle were also there. I went down with two boys and we were telling stories of anything, when we got to the road it turns out that my cousins were not there, probably they had gone with my grandfather to look for the cow or see the planting so I was left 🤡, I was there for a while and I made my dad buy me a soda in a small grocery store, when I'm there calm I start to hear a whistle but I don't pay attention to it because it was a house people could be inside whistling, it was not something to alarm (alert if I should have alarmed or at least ask do you hear that?).

I finish my soda and as my plan had failed I said I'll have to go up again, to see if my cousins have arrived. And we started to climb the same ones who had gone down that the older one would have at most 12 years old, when we were 1/4 of the way I realize that I had left my gloves in the store (there it's very cold) and I knew that if I lost them they were going to scold me, when I say that I left them the ones who were with me say you go down and look for them and you go up, but I tell them "no, we all go down because I'm scared".

And at that moment that characteristic chilling whistle began to sound, I was in shock at the moment, paralyzed perhaps processing and one of the boys says That's the whistle run! And on that road that does not have asphalt, I started to run, I would rather fall than continue there because, if you ask me, it was not heard near or far, or my nerves did not let me process. And with a million hearts we reached the road to find out that my dad had kept the gloves. And when they saw us so scared they asked us what happened but when we told them they didn't believe us, again I stayed 🤡.

And we were in front of a diatribe waiting for adults to go up or go up ourselves again, after debating it and understanding that waiting meant like 1 hour and in child time that was like half a life, we decided to go up, praying to all the saints another was saying obscenities and as we approached the stretch of the event (the place is the photo above) we ran again until we left it behind. From that day I don't go up alone and as soon as it gets dark I prefer to be inside the house. That week my cousins also had things happen and my mom's conclusion was that's why during Holy Week you have to be in tune with God

Well, friends, I hope you found this story interesting. Let me know if you've heard of this horror before. Do you think it was real or did someone play a prank on us?