Carmen

Pen Pen de Sarapen

Pen-pen, de sarapen
De kutsilyo, de almasen
Haw-haw de karabaw, batutin
Sipit namimilipit
Ginto't pilak namumulaklak
Sa tabi ng dagat

Sayang pula, tatlong pera
Sayang puti, tatlong salapi
Sawsaw sa suka, mahuli taya
Sawsaw sa suka, mahuli taya

__

Pen-pen de sarapen
De Kutsilyo, de almasen
Haw-haw de karabaw, batutin...

I covered my ears from the echo of the chant of the kids not far from me. They were singing it so happily as though they did not understand the song. I tried to silently pass by them, hoping they would not notice me. But Alas, they all saw me and grinned devilishly.

"Carmen! Stinky Carmen! Your trying to escape from the white man!"

Panicked, I kneeled in front of them as I begged, "Please don't tell him. Set me free, please! Don't tell Señor Ladron! Please..."

"Carmen! You dare escape? Haven't you learned your lesson?" A deep voice rang across the street.

Without taking a second look, I knew who it was. Right, there's no way for me to escape. But still, I kept on trying.

"Oh, crap! Here he is! He's holding a knife. Oh no!" Another kid yelled in panic but he began gripping on my wrist. I no longer struggled to fight. I was too weak even against a bunch of kids.

I could only kneel their shakily, waiting for my inescapable fate.

A kid waved his hand at Señor Ladron who was in utter fury, "Señor Ladron! Are you looking for this?"

By this time, Señor Ladron had come near me. He grabbed me by my hair that has nearly a few locks left. The knife he was holding pointed at my neck.

"You filthy woman! What are you doing out here?!" He glared down at me. The knife pierced slightly through my skin and a droplet of blood trickled down the edge of the knife.

This has happened so many times already but the shear terror as those eyes shot down at me like daggers.

"I-I'm sorry, Señor! I was just...looking for food—"

"Is the cow grass I feed you not enough? How ungrateful!" He hollered as he tugged at my hair again causing me to groan in pain. I could feel my head was about to snap from my neck with the amount of force he used. It was painful, but complaining would do nothing good to me.

"Go back to the warehouse. A client will be choosing you and another newcomer today. Clean yourself and eat or else I won't be earning money today."

I nodded weakly and stood up only to fall back down again. The señor clicked his tongue and once again held my hair up and began dragging me towards the warehouse. Everytime I would feel my knees weaken and fall, he would tug at my hair to force me to stand up probably. And then, he would hit me here and there. He would even poke the knife just enough to let me feel the pain and bleed.

Oh, how I hope that I would someday bleed enough for me to die.

But in this life, I bleed — day in and day out — the bruises forming on top of another before it could even heal completely. I would bleed so much but it was not enough for me to end this life full of only suffering and pain.

Oh why, oh why has it become like this?

I am merely a woman.

Or is it because...