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    Bruhahahaha Bruhihihihi

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    Friah Mae Delgado
    The narrator used to believe that their neighbor, Mrs. Magalit, was a witch based on her cackling laugh and physical appearance. However, after Mrs. Magalit fell and the narrator helped her up, inviting her inside, they discovered that her strange behaviors like using her left hand were due to practical reasons rather than witchcraft. The narrator realized Mrs. Magalit was just a lonely old woman and befriended her, coming to see her as a grandmother figure rather than a witch.

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    Bruhahahaha Bruhihihihi

    Uploaded by

    Friah Mae Delgado
    3K views3 pages
    The narrator used to believe that their neighbor, Mrs. Magalit, was a witch based on her cackling laugh and physical appearance. However, after Mrs. Magalit fell and the narrator helped her up, inviting her inside, they discovered that her strange behaviors like using her left hand were due to practical reasons rather than witchcraft. The narrator realized Mrs. Magalit was just a lonely old woman and befriended her, coming to see her as a grandmother figure rather than a witch.

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    BRUHAHAHAHA-BRUHIHIHIHI

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    The narrator used to believe that their neighbor, Mrs. Magalit, was a witch based on her cackling laugh and physical appearance. However, after Mrs. Magalit fell and the narrator helped her up, inviting her inside, they discovered that her strange behaviors like using her left hand were due to practical reasons rather than witchcraft. The narrator realized Mrs. Magalit was just a lonely old woman and befriended her, coming to see her as a grandmother figure rather than a witch.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    3K views3 pages

    Bruhahahaha Bruhihihihi

    Uploaded by

    Friah Mae Delgado
    The narrator used to believe that their neighbor, Mrs. Magalit, was a witch based on her cackling laugh and physical appearance. However, after Mrs. Magalit fell and the narrator helped her up, inviting her inside, they discovered that her strange behaviors like using her left hand were due to practical reasons rather than witchcraft. The narrator realized Mrs. Magalit was just a lonely old woman and befriended her, coming to see her as a grandmother figure rather than a witch.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    of 3

    BRUHAHAHAHA BRUHIHIHIHI

    By Ma. Corazon Remigio

    Believe it or not, my neighbor is a witch, her name is Mrs. Magalit. Her hair looks dead and
    wiry. Her nostrils flare wide open. She stares at you with dagger eyes. But she has a beautiful set
    of teeth. They’re white and they sparkle each time she laughs.
    “BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA
    BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI

    She snikers and sniggers each time she gossips with Ma’am Mila. And when she finds children
    cute, her laughter shifts to a high-pitched titter.
    “BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI
    BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI”
    She giggles shrilly while pinching my plump checks.

    Why did I say that Mrs. Magalit is a witch? It’s not because she looks like one. Nor is it because
    of her eerie laughter. It’s because she refuses to enter our house each time a broom stands by the
    doorway. My grandma said (May God bless her soul) that warlocks and witches are terrified of
    clean, spit-polished, and spick and span houses. The broom bars them from entering.
    And there’s another reason. She eats with her left hand. And that’s how warlocks and witches
    eat, according to Grandma.
    I’m not really scared of Mrs. Magalit.
    I just don’t like to see her at night.
    When its’ deep into the night and she watches late TV peals of her horrifying laughter raises,
    goose bumps on my skin…
    “BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…
    BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…”
    Her resounding guffaw shatters the night.
    And I feel the earth quake and tremble beneath me.

    Once, Mrs. Magalit tripped and her sparkling white teeth flew out of her mouth.

    “BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA
    BRU-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE
    BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI
    BRU-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO”
    The people around her chuckled and giggled, snickered and sniggered, tittered, guffawed,
    crowed and cackled, chortled and burbled. And they seemed like warlocks and witches to me.
    “BRU-HU-HU-HU-HU-HU…BRU-HU-HU-HU-HU-HU…

    Mrs. Magalit sniffled and whimpered while picking up her cracked dentures. My heart bled for
    her as I helped her get up on her feet. We passed out house, I asked her in, wishing that she could
    rest for a while. I totally forgot that Mom had just finished cleaning and that she had left the
    broom by the doorway.

    “Oh please child, I won’t come in anymore. My slippers are dirty.” I persuaded her some more
    and she entered our home. I got shocked that she was not terrified of the broom at all. I gave her
    some refreshments and she used her left hand to pick up some biscuits. “You know child, my
    right hand is arthritic, that’s why I can’t use it anymore.”
    How embarrassing it was for me. I was so wrong in thinking that Mrs. Magalit was a witch. I
    stared at her and I noticed how old she was. Her gray hair seemed dry and lifeless. Her nostrils
    flared because she found it hard to breathe. She looked at people sharply because her eyesight
    was poor and cloudy.
    “Oh dear child, it’s so hard to grow old alone. I lost my husband. I don’t have children. And I
    don’t have a grandchild like you.”
    Mrs. Magalit was so sad. I switched on the TV set for some entertainment and the two of us
    watched something really funny.
    “BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA,” she sniggered heartily.
    “BRU-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE,” I snickered merrily.
    “BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI,” she chuckled loudly.
    “BRU-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO,” I cackled noisily.
    “BRU-HU-HU-HU-HU-HU,” we sniveled and sniffled when we ended up teary-eyed because of
    too much laughter.
    From then on, I don’t call Mrs. Magalit a witch anymore.
    I call her now … Grandma.
    “BRU-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA… BRU-HI-HI-HI-HI-HI.

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