In the town where my grandmother grew up, they scared a lot. She said that there were ghosts of people who buried their treasures because there were no banks. These ghosts appeared to the people of the town and negotiated with them, offering to tell them where their treasure was hidden in exchange for the soul of a loved one.

I thought that everything was a lie until I had to live in an old rented house since we did not have our own. I was about eleven years old, the nights in that house were horrible: there were loud footsteps on the ceiling and in the kitchen you could hear all the corotos moving and even falling off, we went out to see what was happening and we did not see anyone. Both my brothers and I covered ourselves from head to toe with fear. But the worst was experienced by my mother when a man with the face of a cat came out of a window that was ajar from the room; Later it was learned that in that old house lived a man who practiced witchcraft and transformed himself into various animals.