When I was just 8 years old, I didn't think any horror stories are real. They're just fiction that elders scare us with.
I lived with my aunt here in Cebu when I was 8. Her house wasn't done at that time. The windows didn't have jalousies yet nor bars. There's two rooms which are used: one upstairs, one on the ground level. Across the room in the ground level is the bathroom.
One night I woke up in the middle of the night to take a pee. Then when I was about to went back to the room I saw my cousins sitting on the window jamb by the living room. I was puzzled why they were there in the middle of the night and why they wore clothes like old people. I called them, "Ate, Kuya." I was frightened when they both just stared at me and didn't say anything. I felt the hair on my arms and on my back stand. I hurriedly ran to the room and went back to bed hiding under the blanket.
The day after that my aunt told me to go to my grandpa's house to give him something. My cousin that I saw the other night was there so I asked her if she and Kuya was at our aunt's house. She said that they didn't go there. I didn't mind what I saw because maybe it was just my imagination.
Now, my other Kuya told me that the house next to my aunt's house near to where I saw my cousins, which weren't my cousins, was sold not just once but already six times to different families since 2001. I don't think this is scary but when you're the one that had experienced this, you will feel hair stand on your body.
My grandpa once told me that behind my aunt's house once lived a couple that was killed during the World War II.