Ronoele's Tree

Adults and the elderly, carrying bolos and other sharp objects, gathered under the oak tree. The village head stood amidst them, not to calm the mob, but to stir more angry emotion. The dug pit from the other day was about to serve its purpose—grave for a sixteen-year-old girl. “Please, I’m innocent.” Her eyes, which used to be round, were swollen bags of tears that distorted her angelic face, reflecting how bitter life had been. Her sobs echoed the cry of her painful heart, but none of the villagers listened. She wore a torn dress smudged with mud the people threw at her. Blood gushed from an open wound in her head caused by flying stones. Covering her face with tied hands did not aid her at all. “Behold the persecution of the nefarious witch,” Renan announced to the crowd. “She is behind all the mishaps that have been happening here. She brought death to the babies in this village. Therefore, I, as the chieftain, sentence Ronoele to be buried alive.” “No! Please! I did nothing wrong. I know nothing about the accusations.” The villagers ignored her cry. She struggled against her oppressors. Two men grabbed her by the arms and guided her towards the narrow pit. They carried and dropped her standing in the hole. Then, they covered her with buckets of soil—one after another—like they do when they plant trees. A rollercoaster of reaction permeated in the then tranquil air. Many spectators watched the tragic scene without blinking. Some of them even assisted in the piling of dirt. Others remained appalled, witnessing such injustice befalling a teenage girl. But only three individuals felt the agony of the persecuted. One of those pitiful souls felt the constriction of the dumped soil, which already covered Ronoele by the waist. He winced at the idea of wriggling worms and ants of all sorts digging in her skin as he looked at her excruciated facial expression. His lungs tightened as the pile went higher on the girl’s chest, then her neck. Her last words faded into thin air, but he had read her lips clearly as she looked at him, pleading. “I will… go back.” Manolo took a deep breath as visions of the horrific incident fourteen years ago flashed back in his head. He was only seven then. “You died with her,” he said to the oak tree. “I know the pain you have been through. It’s time for you to live again.” His palm scratched against the rough bark of the tree trunk. Using a pick and a spade, he cultivated the soil around the oak tree and poured water in the dug parts. For months, he had dedicated an ample amount of his time trying to revive the tree, cutting the high cogon grass surrounding it and cleaning its circumference. The villagers abandoned the area, except Manolo. The people who witnessed Ronoele’s death buried the tree’s existence in their memory. They even warned the young ones not to go near it, telling them it was cursed. “Uh! This place is itchy. What are you doing?” Rissa asked while scratching her arms. Manolo almost hit his foot when he dropped the pick when his cousin spoke. “Why are you here?” He was even appalled when Olga came into view. “We followed you,” Rissa said, grinning and pointing in Olga’s direction. “She wants to see you. I mean like no matter what it takes.” Without a word, Manolo grabbed his tools and marched away. “Don’t you two dare follow me,” he said without even looking at the girls. “Hey! What is wrong with you?” Olga yelled at him. She even tripped and slumped on some piled dirt as she tried to go after Manolo. The blades of the tall grass scraped her milky skin, but she didn’t mind. In a split second, Manolo was out of sight. Rissa rushed to Olga and helped her stand. “I told you this won’t work. Can you just stop being desperate?” Olga glared at her. “So, now I’m desperate?” she snapped. “Have you forgotten how much you cling to me because of my money? This is the only thing I asked of you—to help me with your cousin! And I was dumped by him, and literally here in this filthy place.” “Fine! Nag as you want. You’re on your own. Good luck finding the way out.” Rissa stood and left her sobbing. *** After a few minutes of walking several meters away from Olga, Rissa stopped under a coconut tree to just enjoy nature. She closed her eyes and allowed the cool afternoon air to penetrate her pores. “Good riddance.” She smiled at the idea that Olga would no longer bother her with her madness over Manolo. “As if my cousin would be interested in a brat like you.” She inhaled one more time and got up, off to Leila’s house to spread the gossip about Olga’s defeat and humiliation. The sun had almost gone down the mountains when Rissa left Leila’s place. They had a good laugh, watched the movies they love, and ate snacks as much as they pleased. She bid Leila farewell and even kissed her on the cheek, which she didn’t normally do. While on her way home, she had been thinking about how strange she acted that day. “Is today my last day?” She shrugged the idea off and laughed at the silly question. The walk from Leila’s to her house was a struggle. They lived several meters away, and the path Rissa needed to pass was surrounded by nothing but nature with enormous trees, rows of tall grasses, not to mention the absence of street lights. Good thing the moon and the stars were up to light her way. “Why didn’t I bring a flashlight?” she muttered, frowning at the thought that what happened that day didn’t go according to plan. “Great! I’m all alone on this dark road.” As she passed the place where she left Olga early that day, her hair stood on end. “Did that flirt find her way home?” The air turned icy and biting in the eerie stillness of the night. The scratching of tiny stones and sand beneath her feet added melody to the orchestra of crickets and the soft crunching beats of tree branches. Hope there’s no ghost in here. She kept her pace, wanting to reach home as soon as possible. She ran, and walk, and ran. But the distance seemed longer. 'Am I lost?' She paused and felt her chest. Her heartbeat was like a drum. She wept because of the many horrible thoughts invading her head. “Rissa.” She jumped at the sound of her name. Her ragged breathing gradually relaxed when she realized she wasn’t alone. She smiled at the presence of another human. Didn’t matter who it was, as long as it was human. “Where to?” “On my way home, from Leila’s house.” “I’ll walk with you.” “Thank goodness.” Rissa breathed a sigh of relief. *** The sweet scent of dew on the blades of grass filled Rissa’s nostrils as she struggled to open her eyes under the blindfold. The birds singing and chirping on the nearby trees entertained her eardrums, while the roosters’ signature sunrise song brought back her senses as the fowls of cockfights greeted each other “good morning.” Happy frogs in the area croaked a wake-up melody to whoever was still asleep while the sun was high—bragging its luminous ball of fire to all living creatures, except for someone who was about to die. Such a lovely greeting was all normal to her daily life. A life that was, a few hours ago, filled with freedom and bliss. A life that was always the start of a new journey seasoned by challenges to be surpassed. But that day’s challenge for her was far from being completed with victory. Her previous day played a rewind in her head. She welcomed yesterday with enthusiasm. Expressed and uttered the words “I love you” repeatedly to her parents as if it was her last chance to tell them that. She spent the day with her friends. Had an unending chat with them as if there was no tomorrow. And her gut feeling didn’t fail her; that yesterday’s tomorrow was Rissa's “today” which might end up with the dreadful way “to perish.” That realization hit her with a blast! Her days would never be the same. That was if she would still have another day. Warm drops of tears soaked the piece of cloth covering her eyes, as fear seized her squeamish heart. Her back, damped with the previous night’s dew, lay flat on the grassy lawn. Both her arms were tied in an open embrace position. Her bounded feet made her distressful. She had tripped over some sharp stones while running away from her abductor, who ended up triumphant while she was a sore loser. She struggled to loosen her bounded arms from the ropes that restrained her movements. The knot was so tight it hindered the normal flow of blood in her veins. “What happened last night?” Her cracked voice between sobs echoed in her head. Her mind’s eyes brought her back to where she was. “On my way home from Leila’s place.” That was right! It was about eight o’clock in the evening, and she was lost in her own area. Her fear of being in the dark made her eager to walk home; only she didn’t make it because someone she knew called her. At first, they were having a friendly conversation. But then, the topic became twisted, and she found herself in a desperate situation, sprinting in the opposite direction—which, unfortunately, was not the way home. She ran towards a rough road headed to the wooded area, running away from a person she thought was her friend. Running for her safety. Running for her precious life. She screamed, only to be heard by herself, and her predator, who was laughing while chasing her. “Come on. Scream some more. No one will hear you.” True enough, no one came to her rescue. They were at the secluded area of their village, where only a fool in panic like her would run to. Her eyes and head, both blurry, ceased to function. Realization slapped her hard; there were no houses or humans to her aid. Her shaky feet brought her to a small stream several meters away from where the residential area stood. It was her first time to be there. She didn’t even know that a place as dreadful as death existed on their village map. After running for some distance, she stopped and gasped for air. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder. The absence of scuffling from behind calmed her down. I’m safe! At least that was what she thought. She was breathing a sigh of relief when— “Are you tired?” a voice asked a few steps away. With an adrenalin rush, the prey jumped on her feet again and skedaddled. Rissa stumbled against the mossy rocks several times as she ran away. The slippery pebbles resting on the ankle-deep flowing water, as well as her sweat-soaked body, slowed her down. She didn’t mind the dirt and sand that clung to her scraped knees, legs, palms, arms. Wearing shorts and sleeveless didn’t help her at all. The prickly sensation was tolerable than the fear enveloping her whole being that sinister night. She slipped and stood. It was hot and cold. Slipped and stood. She was hot with perspiration but cold, with the icy air kissing her skin. Her heart and lungs ran a race with her and time. “Do you hear those tiny insects cheering for you?” her predator asked. “They’re uplifting your spirit to not give your life up, so RUN! RUN!” Although she tried to scamper away, darkness blinded her. Exhaustion drained her from every core. The canopies of some gigantic trees and the extended lengths of proud bamboos spread blankets of sorrow across the starry, moonless sky. Only her heart and blood vessels pumped fast. Her skeletal and muscular system had given up. She slumped on cold running water. Her lower torso submerged to the surface filled with sand and tiny stones. Her eyes were heavy with tears and horrific sights of her demise. This is how far I go. Half of her mind shouted get up, as some water splashed with her captor’s slow-paced steps. But though approaching Death alerted her auditory sense, the other half of her mind whispered Stay! You. Loser! The steps stopped. And Rissa’s last glimpse before she passed out was a wide grin, the icy stare of a silhouette that was a few inches away from her face. Then nothingness devoured her consciousness.