Tales From The Bridge

by Anita Marie Moscoso 

When I was about 14 I had this radio that was shaped like a coke bottle and I use to carry it to school with me every morning so that I could listen to this show called ” Stranger then Fiction”

The deal was you had to decide if the stories were true or made up and the tag line was, ” the truth is always stranger then fiction because fiction has to make sense. “

That’s true- I’ve learned that here on this blog.

I can make up whopper stories but they have to make sense.

Real life doesn’t have to make sense; which is why true stories like these are hard to believe.


About 10 years ago my husband and our three kids moved back to Mountlake Terrace. When we moved to Terrace we moved into a brand new Apartment Complex, I think there had been less then a half dozen renters in the place.

So it was new and spiffy and energy efficient.

About two weeks after we moved in I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth before bed.

It had been raining and thundering all evening, so when I started to see flashes of lighting it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Anyway, I was looking into my bathroom mirror- I saw myself, I saw my bedroom window over my shoulder and then I saw blinding white light in the mirror and then my teeth slammed together and there was this deafening roar and all I could think was, ” I’m in trouble. ”

I wasn’t in trouble- but the tree outside my bedroom window was.

 The next day we found out it had been hit by lightning and you could see the scorch mark down one side and two of its limbs were blasted off and another was left dangling.

The kids played and tugged at the damaged tree limb until it came off. I remember them dragging it around for a while and the maintenance man broke it up and threw it away.

It was shortly after that  when the ghosts came.


My youngest son is a social animal.

At the age of  7 and after only a few weeks of living in our new place he knew everyone. By that I mean he knew names and who lived where and what they did and their pets names and millions of other little details.

Don’t ask me how he did it.

Then he changed.

It was a gradual change-  my son started to sleep a lot during the day,  he started getting dark circles under his eyes and when he started hiding his favorite toys around the living room I thought that maybe the move had affected him after all.

One day I was pulling his collection of Ninja Turtles from out of my bookcase (he had hidden them behind the books) when he went walking by with his skateboard under his arm and said he wanted to take a nap.

It was about 2:00 in the afternoon and enough was enough.

I asked why he was so tired and he said, ” this little boy comes into my room at night and plays with my toys and he’s keeping me awake.”

” Is that why you’re hiding your toys? ”

” Yeah. ”

 Is it working? ” I said trying to play along.

My son shrugged and went into his room and took his nap.


It was a little while after the toys in the bookshelf incident when my Sister came over for a visit.

My kids had insisted on a pet hamster because not only did their Mom have a cat she had pet rats and the boys decided pets shouldn’t be something only Moms got to have.

They named  their new pet Scooter.

My Sister and I were alone in the apartment- the kids, my husband and her husband were all out buying pizza.

We were in the kid’s room playing with Scooter.

We put him into one of those little balls hamsters  can run around in and I remember my cat was sitting in the doorway and I was going to push the ball with the hamster in it towards him.

My cat had been raised with my rats and he had this thing were he wouldn’t go for rats or hamsters and my Sister didn’t believe it.

So we both look up to where Wolfgang had been sitting when this little boy ran right passed the bedroom door and down the hall towards my bedroom.

” Who’s that? ” my Sister asked.

” Probably a neighbor kid. They walk in all the time. ”

I went to get the kid when my cat sort of slinked around the corner and he looked up at me and growled.

I don’t mean that cat growl- it was big and deep and his ears flattened against his head.

I went to push him out of the way with my foot and he reached forward and grabbed my ankle with his teeth. Then he started to  jerk backwards with these little snaps to his neck and the entire time he’s doing this he’s looking up at me and growling.

Then he sort of turned without letting go and tried to pull me back into my kid’s room.

My sister was yelling, I was screaming  because my cat was holding onto my ankle and the blood was starting to run and no matter what we did or how loud we yelled he wouldn’t let go.

Then his ears went back up; he let go of  my ankle and he walked out into the living room.

” There’s no one in the apartment except us…is there? ” my Sister asked.

I remember I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know.


I’ll leave you with this final ghost story-

Out of a dead sleep I woke up at exactly 1:45 in the morning and standing beside my bed was my Grandfather.

I was really glad to see him- it had been about 14 years since he had died. He’d missed my Wedding and my High school Graduation and a million other great things.

Now I was going to get the chance to tell him all about it and I remember trying to wake up more so that I could get my husband to wake up and meet my Grandpa.

I was surprised- but not that my Grandfather was there but that he looked so young.

He looked like he did in his late 30’s- I’d only seen pictures of him in those days and I wasn’t sure why he looked like that and not like the man I’d known.

But that was okay- all that mattered was that he was here now.

This went on for a week- I’d wake up at the same time and there he was standing by me looking happy and relaxed and pleased to see me.

At the end of the week my Grandfather’s sister passed away.

I was heartbroken- she was a great lady and she use to tell this great story about performing in a childrens choir ‘back in the day’ for Prisoners in an honest to goodness Prison.

They were singing for genuine convicted killers and robbers.

I use to ask a million questions about what it was like inside of a Prison and she was happy to tell me.

Plus she could whistle through her teeth.

She had a great life if you ask me.

Anyway, I never asked what time she died- I was sure I already knew.


So there are my stories- are they true?

Did they really happen?

Don’t worry if you can’t figure it out- after all of these years I haven’t figured it out either.



16 thoughts on “Tales From The Bridge

  1. Just writing this creeped me out… of course I wrote it late at night so I turned every light in my house when I was done on and made my dog and my cat ( the famous Wolfgang from this story ) stay with me for the rest of the night.

    No fooling



  2. Well how would I know just reading it whether it was the real thing? Especially with a little disclaimer, this might not be? I could say my hair standing up was a pretty good indicator, but that might just mean you are a real good writer and we already know that.


  3. Wow Max- thank you for saying I’m a really good writer…that means a lot to me.

    When I was little my Grandfather ( the Filipino one ) taught me to tell stories. He said to remember that if people couldn’t see themselves in a story it wouldn’t work.

    To me that’s the challange- to write my macabre stories but to not let them get so far out there people don’t understand the characters or what motivates them.

    Like there’s Betsy in Mrs Beenettle’s Garden who thinks she’s sort of a top dog and in the end she runs into a bigger dog then herself ( plants )- or The Dark Family and their career driven dad ( who happens to be a Vampire Hunter )or there’s this story I wrote about a woman who goes over the edge when her company is almost run out of business by the ” WalMart” of Coffin Making companies.

    My stories are really about the human experience. I just put the experience in a weird light. I have to say- it’s not as easy as it looks but it IS fun.



  4. You ARe a good writer, Anita Marie, your stories have atmosphere, and fascinating charaters – and now I know why. Your storytelling genius was awakened at an early age. By the way, i don’t know if you would call this coincidence or not, but I am the grandmother of two beautiful half filipino babies.


  5. Thanks and Welcome to my Soul Food Friends!
    That little boy is a haunting character all right ( no pun intended ) but I’m in no rush to meet up with him again soon!

    And… Gail, Filipino Babies ARE wonderful- you should see my nieces and nephews and brother and sister 🙂



  6. Wow Anita, Mutant Ninja Turtles? My son had those. And knowing them, that makes the story even creeeeepier.
    Goosebumps. I love ghost stories. This was a fun read, like riding on a rollercoaster.
    Thanks for linking me.


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