The Mountain Ghost

When I was a little girl, my cousins, my brother and I went to pick wild fruit in the small mountains near my village. While I was picking fruit, my cousin looked up. He called to my brother and told him to look up. In the distance we saw what we thought was a woman hanging from a tree. She had long black hair and a white dress and I thought she was a ghost. A year or two before we went to pick fruit, a young woman in my neighborhood had died from leg cancer. She was buried in the mountain. So, when we saw her we thought that she was the dead woman. We screamed, I dropped my fruit and we ran home as fast as we could. We went home and talked to my mom and my uncle. My uncle went with my brother and some other men to the mountain. One hour later they came back and my uncle said, "Don't be scared, it is not a woman, it is just some white rock and a tree.''

So, when I think about this story I laugh and I'm happy that I didn't see a real ghost.