This is a story of about five years ago.
At that time, my younger brother was punky and routinely rode a motorbike at night.
I’m a sober person and found him annoying so I hardly talked to him.
One day, when I came back home from work, I saw him coming out of home, walking his motorcycle as usual.
Of course, we passed each other without any conversation.
My father (who was also punky at his younger age) told my brother not to start the engine until the bike reached a paddy field 300 meters away from home because the engine noise would annoy neighbors. So he could not start the engine near home and each time pushed the bike reluctantly.
When about 10 seconds passed after I passed him, a loud clashing noise occurred and I saw my brother rushing toward home.
My brother panicked shouting “Sister! It’s Sadako! Sadako!! Ohhh!” He rushed into home.
Noticing the noise and shouting, Father woke up and we listened to brother’s story.
According to brother, there was a woman whose lower body was buried in the wall of our next door house. The woman was approaching to him so he ran so quickly that he left his precious bike there.
I was disgusted with his story but Father listened to him seriously and said “So, you saw that too.”
It seems that Father also saw the woman in his younger days and asked my grand father what it was. Grampa told him that there was a car accident on that road where a young woman got injured so badly that her lower body crushed into pieces.
Though Grampa told that he helped with rescue work so there was no reason the woman held a grudge against our family, I kinda feel uneasy.
