The Story Of The Orphan Girl 582a18

PART B The orphan girl always saw it in her dreams. Sometimes it’s looking right at her. Other times, it’s at a fair distance seemingly talking with the wind, the trees, the animals. On those times, the girl felt like a voyeur looking over, but the being seems to be so omniscient. Surely it knew about the girl’s presence, even in dreams. The setting of her encounters with the spirit always varied, but one thing remained the same. It never talked to her. The spirit looked, communicated with its eyes, but never one word was uttered and directed to the orphan girl. The girl didn’t mind. The spirit is such an intimidating being anyway, like a person who don’t talk to kids. That’s why it’s such a great surprise when in one dream, the spirit addressed her face-to-face. “Dear child, a great challenge is upon you. The manamat that killed your parents is at the moment on its way here. This time, it’s not alone. You have to be quick and flee to save yourself that you do not share the fate of your mother and father.” The girl was frightened. The manamat invaded their home and murdered her parents when she was twelve. The situation forced her deeper into the forest. She’s been living alone on this part for years. Despite her fear, the girl steeled herself. “I know this part of the forest more than any stranger does.” She reasoned, “It might be stronger than I am, but I’ve got the advantage of knowing every crook and cranny of this place. I can’t just give my home up and let that creature chase me around forever.”

The spirit gave nothing from its expression, “Do as you will, little one, but the manamat is only three days away.” The dream began to dissolve into reality and the girl found herself lying under a mango tree. Right away, she started laying down traps on the ground and ensuring safe branches she could swing on when the manamat arrived below. She took out her dagger that was only meant to cut herbs from their roots to help her healer father in gathering ingredients for his concoctions. She looked at its now sharpened blade, a little sad that something once just very utilitarian would be her only defense against something so powerful. The monster arrived at dusk. The girl watched from above the trees as it stepped on the net covered under the weeds. Immediately, the trap activated and tangled the manamat into a tight cocoon. The growl it created shook the whole forest. Unfortunately, the second manamat was not walking near the first one, so it wasn’t captured in the net. It tried to claw through the fiber to free the other, growling and screaming as it did so. The second manamat was smaller, only a few inches taller than the girl. Thinking she could defeat a monster that size, the girl jumped from above into the creature’s back and dragged her dagger from its shoulder blades and downward. The trapped monster’s growling got louder. It thrashed and thrashed from its net but to no avail. The sound it was making turned more frequent until it sounded like a hiccup, like a sob.

The creature whose blood stained her hands moved underneath her and the girl jumped back. The sun has fully set and the only thing that aided her eyes to see the scene before her was the beginning of the moon’s first beams. The girl tuned to the sound that echoed from the trapped creature and realized it sounded like a garbled “no.” “Oh heavens,” she whispered, unsure of what to do. She drew her dagger up again and approached it. “Speak. Can you talk like the way I do? Speak, murderer!” The girl had to concentrate really hard to understand the creature. It was hard, but not impossible. “How dare a human bathed in the blood of my son speak to me of murder.” It gave a weak thrash in its bind. The girl was enraged. “You killed my parents! Now you’ve come for me, too. You’re a monster!” “Oh, you…” “Yes, do you now? All these years I didn’t seek out to take revenge. Did you really have to hunt me?!” The manamat’s voice was defeated. It was even harder to understand it now. “I am the reason why your parents are dead, but I did it out of self-defense. Now, you’ve killed my son. The blood I spilled on the ground is re-watered by one of my own. Please take my life as well.”

The girl looked the young creature by her feet. It was still breathing shallowly. “Your… son is not dead.” The parent was suddenly trying to sit up. “Please let me free. I vow to you my service. I know I can’t bring back your parents, but I will be yours until your end of days. Call upon me and I shall never refuse.” The girl didn’t know what overcome her. It wasn’t the promise, not something so trivial. She slowly unbounded it, turning over her fate to the keeper of the forest. May the keeper make sure that her spirit never wander off if she’s going to die because of ill judgment. Once free, the parent started licking the younger creature’s wound. For the second time since sunset, the girl didn’t know what to do. It was easier planning the death of these creatures looking at the parent drawn tight with concern for its child. Suddenly, the older creature spoke, “I was looking for a shelter when I came upon your house. The sultan took our cave for mining and I needed a shade to be under because I was going to give birth any day soon. Your parents misunderstood me. No, they didn’t try to listen. I was only protecting the life in my womb. I wish I had your people’s reasoning, but at that moment driven by danger only to be led to another, I was more held by natural instinct. Now the sultan has chopped all the trees to make your old home flat so he could make it into a grand hall. He wanted it finished so his son can have his nearing marriage there. There are workers all around, with shovels they can hit me with. I can’t take all of them and I would never want to, not after your parents. I can never forget them, I carry their ghost forever. That night, I told you to run, didn’t I?”

The girl only ed being growled at. “You’re just saying that so I would trust you.” “If I wanted to kill you, you would be on the ground the moment my hands were free.” “You’re a monster.” The mother licked her son’s wound again, slowly. “If I didn’t look like this, would I still be a monster to you?” The girl was struck. She looked over the long fur the covered her body. The misshapen features of her face. Her eyes are red. Are these what construct a monster? That night, can she picture a mother protecting her young pleading unsuccessfully to people who didn’t try to understand her and based her worth from what she looked like, or something not human who wanted bodies dead on the forest’s ground? The son groaned from his mother’s arms. “Your son needs to get checked, he’s losing a lot of blood.” The girl said urgently. The mother seemed to relax for the first time. She stood, her height towered over the little girl. She sat down a fallen log nearby. “Stay here. I’ll find help. I’ll be back right away,” the girl promised. The manamat grunted her reply. *

About a half a mile away, she met a spider who told her about the widow boy living in the big house near the river. She ran right away, intending to save as much time as she can. She knocked on the first big house she saw. It opened after three knocks. “Hello, is there someone who knows medicine around here?” The boy who opened the door assessed her slowly. “I’m not a doctor, but I know some basics.” “Please, someone is dying back in my place. I’ll pay you if you want.” “What kind of treatment does the person need? I need to get my things.” “It’s. Uhm, it’s a dagger wound. And I thought I’d let you know. My friends are not ordinary. Please avoid staring. Please don’t run away.” “A few things would surprise me living in this part of the forest, little girl.” ** There was no need to worry, her son doesn’t seem to be in the brink of death. Their kind heals these wounds fast. Any aid brought by the girl would just need to make sure that the slice would never open again. The girl and the boy she brought put ointment on the wound to make it heal faster. They bandaged it with a cloth the girl offered. The boy put her son to rest and made tea for all of them. It was the first time the mother manamat trusted someone who isn’t like her.

** After a week, the son was good to travel again. The boy came every now and again to check on him until he’s fully recovered. The mother informed the girl that they need to go on. Gratitude and forgiveness were exchanged between them. When the manamats were about to go, the girl stopped them. “The house can get a little lonely. I know you hunt and eat a lot, but I’ll only need a little of your portion. If you want, I can find my own yam or berries. Can I go with you?” The boy who was there to see the manamats off grabbed the girl’s arm, “The deeper forest is dangerous for a little girl like you. If you’re getting sad living alone, you can move in the house. I got another room to spare.” The girl thought about the comforts of the big house. It makes sense to just move there than to go to a journey without a map. But her heart wanted to see what lies behind the safe zones. The mother manamat still killed her parents, but slowly the girl was starting to let go. She’s going with them and take chances. She’s not going to run again to feel the illusion of safety. Like before, she decided to dare reach out to what she didn’t understand. As she waved goodbye to her friend, the orphan girl knew that she’s also on her way to have a new family. **

From above the cliff overlooking the scene, the keeper of the forest smiled. It knew all along that the girl would the challenge. PART A I decided to retell a Subanon folk tale “The Story of the Orphan Girl.” The tale narrates a child who lived alone in the forest for years who was told by a beautiful woman in a dream that she needs to go because manamats are going her way to devour her in three days. She didn’t want to believe until the spider told her to heed the woman. Because the girl ran too late, the manamats nearly overtook her but she stumbled upon a widow’s son house. The widow’s son killed two of the the manamats and kept their leader, the Gunluh alive. The Gunluh promised his service to the widow’s son. Now, the girl was very beautiful and attracted the attention of the Sultan. The Sultan sent of multiple envoys to ask for the girl’s hand in marriage but the widow’s son repeatedly said that she might have other relatives somewhere so he can’t give her to the sultan. The sultan was enraged and tried to kill the widow’s son, but the power of manamat protects him from being killed. In the end the widow’s son himself married the girl and the sultan married “a beautiful girl from Mecca.” I chose this folk tale for two reasons. First, the manamats were described to an “inferior to a beautiful maiden or goddess” “but as much feared.” It brought to my memory the idea of hags, where women who are ugly are seen in the archetype as always the one who did the evil thing. It seems to be a common thing in Filipino lore. I want to tell a story where the protagonist sees past what I’ll call “the hag façade.” The second reason is because it is just another damsel-in-distress narrative. I can’t count

how many times the girl “wept” in the story. And after these she became a token for the men to argue about. The qualifications she had were that she “was very beautiful, with straight eyebrows and very skillful in all womanly arts such as weaving.” I found that part very offending. I want to write a retelling where the girl is the actual focus of the narrative. At the same time, I want to tell that the evil isn’t reflected on anyone’s physical appearance, and we as people of higher reasoning that animals should learn how to differentiate between people and real monsters.

REFERENCES Lumbera, B. et.al. Ed. Philippine Literature: A History and Anthology. English Edition. Anvil Publishing. Pasig City. 2005. Pp.17-20. Print.