October 31, 2025 – Baybay City, Leyte, Philippines

For years I’ve dabbled in the strange and the unexplained. Back when I ran GhostHunter.pro, I spent nights chasing cold spots, flickering EMF readings, and the occasional bump in the dark — experiences that eventually helped shape my book Paranormal Patrol. I’ve always considered myself what some call a sensitive, though I’ll add a heavy emphasis on the sometimes. Every now and then, I pick up on things I can’t easily explain. Do I believe in it? Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s imagination, maybe it’s altered perception — or maybe there really are traces left behind when life moves on. We’ve often speculated that the energy of someone who lived in a place for years might soak into the very walls, the wood, the stone. This house still carries much of what she touched. So perhaps what I’m feeling isn’t illusion at all.

It’s Halloween morning, 10:38 a.m. The light is strong through the windows, and yet something softer moves beneath it — a feeling that Luz is near. Not memory exactly. Not imagination either. More like the house itself is remembering her.

They say the veil between worlds thins today. Maybe that’s what I’m feeling — not a haunting in the gothic sense, but a residue of love. An essence that lingered where she laughed, where she sat and talked, where life once filled the air.

When I walk past those corners, it feels like she’s just stepped into the next room. Maybe that’s the nature of spirit — it doesn’t vanish, it settles in, quietly. The walls, the chairs, even the light seem to hum with what’s left behind.

I don’t know if this is what people mean by haunting, or if it’s something gentler — a reunion through the thinning veil. But here, in the warmth of daylight and the hum of Baybay outside, I choose to think of it as a visitation.

A whisper from the other side of love saying, I never really left.

From the field notes of Cliff Potts, author of Paranormal Patrol.