When my aunt Alicia became a mother, she was 22 years old. She was happy and felt that she had everything in life, but she made the mistake of renting that house, in that street in front of the cemetery of Táriba, that street where they say that so many inexplicable things happen.

My cousin was not even two years old when her father decided to go away and leave them alone. My aunt begged him not to leave because of the child, but her husband told her that he no longer felt love and without looking back he left them.

The days passed and my aunt Alicia had the pain of being a young woman with a baby and a divorce to carry on her shoulders, but she tried to pull herself together and move forward, so she looked calmer and seemed to be overcoming the situation.

One night as she was putting the baby to bed in the crib her nightmare began. A noise on the ceiling. It was scratching, loud banging, human footsteps. My aunt was very frightened and the next day she told the landlady who lived in the second floor apartment. Nobody heard anything.

Every night at the same time the noises began to torment my aunt. If she was in the bedroom the noises from the ceiling started in the bedroom, when she went out to the kitchen they moved to the kitchen ceiling. Soon she realized that it was above her where these noises were. Three hours went by and when it was about to dawn everything calmed down and tranquility returned to the house.

My aunt was desperate, she didn't know what to do. She had dark circles under her eyes and some problems at work because she felt tired due to lack of sleep. We started to stay one night each of my sisters and I with her. At first if there was someone with her she didn't hear the noises and could rest, but as the days went by the house could be so full of people that the noises would shake the ceiling.

The straw that broke the camel's back was one night when she went into the baby's room to check on her and the little girl had her eyes open and was staring at the ceiling with a terrified expression. My aunt took her in her arms and they both went to knock on the door of the owner of the house, where they were welcomed until dawn.

The two sons of the owner of the house made a plan to hunt down whatever was disturbing my aunt's peace and offered to stay with her that night.

They had a BB gun, what we call in Táchira an air flover, an axe and stones with slingshots. The boys slept for a while in the living room while the night show began. At the same time as usual, the scratching and banging started wherever my aunt went.

The boys climbed on the roof with their flashlights and homemade weapons. My aunt stood terrified in the yard looking up at the roof and listening to the boys chase something.

It began to rain. Suddenly there was total silence and from the roof fell a penguin-like animal that looked like it had an injured leg. It was definitely a bird but, in this part of the world, it was impossible for it to be a penguin. It got up, looked at my aunt and started walking towards her.

My aunt was transfixed and felt the look of hatred from the animal. At that moment the boys jumped off the roof and the animal ran off at great speed down the stairs.

At that moment Mrs. Ligia, the owner of the house and her daughter opened the door to go upstairs to check on the boys because they heard strange noises and were worried. Just as the door opened they saw a woman dressed all in black, she was limping and seemed to be leaving a strange, dark liquid behind every time she took a step. It wasn't blood, it was more like something black and sticky.

Mrs. Ligia made way for her, as she thought it was some visitor coming out of my aunt's house. When the woman went out into the street the rain did not seem to wet her. Mrs. Ligia and her daughter stood watching her and after taking a few steps, the woman turned to look with hateful eyes at the window above which was my aunt's room and walked down the street, that street where so many strange things happen, she was completely dry even though she was walking in the rain.

This story is based on the testimony of my aunt alicia and her neighbors and is a contribution to the project of collecting paranormal stories, Crónicas del Táchira Ultratumba by my friend @ismaelgranados.