The Arm from Nowhere

My family used to move around a bit due to my late father's job as a building contractor. At least once a year, we found ourselves living in a different house. In fact, my four years in high school were spent in four different schools!

I am the eldest to six siblings of three brothers and three sisters. This story is about the strange experience that the oldest of my brothers had in one of the houses that we lived in as kids.

Our parents often left us alone for days and even weeks. We had food and money so we only had to make sure that the house was locked at all times. During the day, the house was left alone from morning until late afternoon because we were all in school. Even on weekends, since the parents were not around, we all went to our own circle of friends to pass the time.

Looking back, and having a family of my own now, I realized that those times were not happy and normal. It was not even a life! We were nine members in that family but we never had a moment of togetherness. We never lived in one place. My youngest brother and sister were adopted by my grandmother.

Strangely, I and the four older siblings who practically grew up and stayed together in one house did not feel close to one another. It could be me. There might be something wrong with me or them. Maybe we were just different or indifferent to each other.

Whatever was wrong with our relationship then became the magnet that attracted something dark and creepy. Somehow, our house seemed more quiet and darker. Many times, the atmosphere that welcomed our arrival was eerie.

A house that was situated along a busy highway should never be so hushed and silent even when the windows were opened. There was a public elementary school across the road and residential houses all around.

By the way, our sleeping quarters had no division. There was just a large room full of double-decked beds and a large bed right beside the firewall. Sometimes, when we were secretly feeling lonely, we all sleep in the wide bed that our parents used.

Even then, I was already a bit of a nocturnal creature. My mild insomnia would not let me sleep until 2 or 3 in the morning. In the semi-darkness, I would spend those sleepless hours trying to count the visible nails on the ceiling and walls instead of counting sheep. Sometimes, I would watch my sleeping siblings enviously.

One moonless night, we all slept on the big bed. It was unusual because the night was humid and warm. No one used a blanket. I often sleep by the wall but my brother claimed the space first so I settled beside him.

My mind was still buzzing in its insomniac wanderings when my tired eyes opened. It took only a couple of minutes to adjust my sight in the darkness that shrouded the room. I was lying on my side facing my brother and the wall. After another couple of minutes, my eyes were wide-opened while staring at an arm lying on the stomach and chest of my brother.

It was a large and hairy arm.

I stared and stared, not believing what I was seeing. I kept telling myself it was just a product of my vivid imagination.

My brother was still sleeping and seemed not aware of the arm from nowhere. It was just impossible. Unless the wall had grown an arm?

That was the last thing I remembered thinking. When I opened my eyes again, it was morning. Everyone was busily preparing for school so I jumped and followed suit.

While we were eating breaksfast, I was surreptitiously observing my brother. He seemed acting normal except for the furtive way his eyes glanced towards the opened door of our sleeping area, where the big bed by the wall was in full view.

He knew! I realized in shock. He knew about the creepy arm that sprouted from the concrete wall last night.

I wanted to ask him, to offer comfort, but decided to wait.

After classes, I went to the school’s chapel to borrow a prayer book, a rosary, and a bottle of holy water.

My siblings were all busy at home. The big bed was moved away from the wall to create space for a side table where an impromptu altar was set up. The lone framed image of the Lord was joined by a couple of small candles. While adding the prayer book, rosary, and the bottle of holy water, I realized that each one of us had seen the mysterious arm.

Before we went to bed that night, we closed our eyes and bowed our heads to murmur a short prayer for our safety.

When praying together became our nightly ritual, I realized that the arm from nowhere was like a wake-up call. It shocked us from our private longing for our absentee parents and estranged siblings. Separation was a necessity for survival.

The parents had to go to other places to work. The two youngest kids should go to my grandmother to be taken care of properly. We, the grown-up children, had to be left behind until school classes ended.

As years went by, I started to realize that the arm from nowhere was also a cry for help. Before houses were built on the land that surrounded the now shallow, narrow, and treeless stream, the place was a paradise called home by the creature that owned the arm.