A 90-year-old mother was abandoned on a mountain by her son — 8 years later, the couple returned, and upon hearing the mother’s voice, they trembled with fear…
On the desolate slope of the Sierra Madre mountains—where only the bravest locals dared to go for firewood and hurried back before dusk—stood a dilapidated hut hidden beneath the shadows of ancient acacia and narra trees. Few knew that eight years ago, that very place had been the beginning of a tragedy so haunting that even today the entire barangay shudders at its memory.
Lola Lakshmi, now 90 years old, was once the strongest and most energetic woman in the region. She had single-handedly raised her three sons. But tragically, when old age weakened her body, she became a burden to the very people for whom she had sacrificed her entire youth.
Among the three sons, the second—Navin—was the one she trusted the most. He used to be simple, hardworking, and always promised, “I will never abandon my mother like others do.” But everything changed after he got married.
Navin’s wife, Priya, was not a bad person, but she was extremely calculative. She constantly complained about caring for her mother-in-law, the costly medicines, and how it left no time for her sari-sari store business. These whispers were like termites slowly eating away at the heart of a man whose resolve was already weak.
One stormy, rainy day, Navin drove their old jeepney up the mountain saying, “I’m going to look for herbs for Mother.” Lola Lakshmi sat in the back seat, holding an old knitted shawl that her daughter-in-law had made years ago. When the jeepney stopped in a clearing, Navin said:
— Mother, rest here for a while. I’ll go up and see if anyone is selling herbs.
As always, she nodded innocently, suspecting nothing. Navin looked at her one last time, then pressed the accelerator and disappeared into the fog.
When night swallowed the forest completely, she realized her son… would never come back.
News of Lola Lakshmi’s disappearance spread across the barangay for months, but eventually everyone assumed she had not survived in that cold, barren mountain. Only one strange thing remained: her body was never found.
Navin and Priya moved to Manila, as if trying to erase every trace of the old story. But every night, when the wind slipped through the cracks of their old house, Navin heard his mother’s whisper echoing in his mind:
“Navin anak… it’s getting dark…”
Priya often saw her husband waking up in terror in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. Annoyed, she would say:
— It’s been years! Are you still haunted by that?
Navin never answered.
Eight years later.
Navin and his wife returned to their home province because of a land dispute. When they drove past the road leading to the mountain, a sudden chill ran down Priya’s spine.
— Should we… go up and see? I just… I want to know what really happened back then.
Navin’s face turned pale.
— What’s the point? Only bones would be left by now.
But for some unknown reason, Priya insisted. Perhaps she wanted to see it with her own eyes, to end the guilt that had haunted them for eight long years.
The jeepney stopped at the familiar slope. The fierce mountain wind made the couple shiver. They walked slowly, each step landing on the memories of their sinful past.
When they reached the small hut hidden among the trees, Priya suddenly grabbed her husband’s hand and whispered:
— Navin… do you hear that?
The wind rustled. But beneath it… there was a sound.
A faint cough. And then—
— Who… who’s there?
The voice trembled, but it was unmistakable.
Navin froze. Priya’s face turned pale as if her whole body had turned to ice.
That voice… There was no way it could be wrong.
It was Lola Lakshmi’s voice—the mother they had abandoned on the mountain eight years ago.
Priya trembled and hid behind her husband. Navin’s face drained of every drop of blood. His breaths caught in his throat.
From inside the hut, a thin shadow stepped out. White hair, a frail body wrapped in an old, torn knitted shawl.
Her eyes were cloudy, yet she recognized the man in front of her immediately.
— Navin… anak, you came back?
Just four words. Four words that shattered the couple completely.
— Mother… you’re alive… how did you… Navin stammered.
Lola Lakshmi smiled—the same loving smile that had raised her three sons.
— I’ve been here… I knew you would return someday… at least once.
Navin fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. Priya stood behind him, her legs trembling as if they could no longer hold her weight.
— Mother… how did you survive all these years?
She looked toward the mountain slope.
— God’s grace… Sometimes the barangay folks would come to the forest, see me, and give me food. Sometimes weeks passed with no one around, but I got used to it. I just waited for the day you would come back… so I’d know I wasn’t forgotten…
Priya broke down sobbing. She had never felt so small, so guilty.
Navin held his mother’s skeletal hand—the same hand that had carried him through years of poverty, now reduced to bones.
— Mother… I made a mistake… I truly made a terrible mistake…
He buried his face in her hands like a small child. She stroked his hair, her voice soft as the wind:
— You made a mistake… but you came back. That’s enough.
Navin and Priya helped her down the mountain. In that moment, they realized the ghost haunting them for eight years wasn’t a spirit—it was their own conscience. And only after hearing their mother’s weak but forgiving voice did they finally feel truly free.
And Lola Lakshmi, after years of surviving in the cold mountains, finally saw what she had hoped for the most: her son realizing his mistake and returning to her.
And sometimes—just looking back once—is enough to change an entire lifetime.