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After the rain, the flower blooms: The Mary Joy story (Part 2 of a Series)

By Ardy and Dave

Did the mother come to the rescue as she was in the same room? Did the 3-year old half sister instantaneously die? Did the neighbors hear the shrieks and scream of Mary Joy? Did the alleged assailant feel the remorse after seeing his own daughters almost drowning in their own blood from the wounds inflicted on them, allegedly, by their father? 

Last week, we asked these questions as prelude to our episode today. Last week, too, we introduced you to Mary Joy. We described her as a bubbly young lady, 14 years old, who, people thought (after having read our first episode) would forever be scarred by the memories of the tragedy that happened to her.

We also wrote on our January 3, 2020 story that Mary Joy and her sister were allegedly hacked by a man whom they used to consider as their protector.

The metaphorical downpour of the “heavy rain” on that evening of November 7, 2020, inevitably exacted its gloom on Mary Joy’s view of how and where life would bring her after the incident.

Mary Joy is the eldest of three siblings from the mother’s first partner. Her mother is named Laura. Laura and her second partner (Mary Joy’s stepfather), have three (3) children, too, and the eldest is three years old. All in all, Laura has six (6) children. 

This three-year old eldest daughter of Laura by her second partner is very sweet to Mary Joy. They don’t have the “stepsister” barrier in their lives. This is the reason that in their sharing of the mat on the floor at bedtime, Mary Joy and this 3-year old younger stepsister,  would always stay side by side, as if trying to protect each other from any danger. They would hug each other before they would be in deep slumber. And like a 14-year old sister to a 3-year old sister, Joy would share with the latter stories of princesses, of becoming wealthy, of becoming popular, of working as a teacher, etc. – until her stories would sweetly pull them to dreamland reverie ,

Both are pretty, too. Their eyes would beckon you most according to the neighbors. “Lami na sila’g mga mata. Makabibihag ba,” the neighbors say.

During that evening of November 7, 2020, all of the six (6) children of Laura slept in the same room. There was only one room in the small hut where they lived and all the six siblings felt contented with how things were in their family.

“Maayo man siya kaayo namo,” Mary Joy told us when we asked her about her stepfather.

“Dili gyud to siya manglatos sa akong tanang mga anak,” Laura added when we also asked her about her live-in partner.

Then I forwarded myself closer to Laura and softly asked: “Wala diay nimo mahawiri imong pares sa pagkuha niya sa hinagiban?”

Dave, our associate editor quickly quipped by saying: “Nganong wala man mabantayi to siya?”

And I followed up again with my question for Joy: “Nganong wala man pud ka mudagan?”

And Laura answered us by saying that she only woke up when she heard terrible screams. Upon clearing her eyes, she saw how her daughter, Mary Joy, was (allegedly) attacked by a “diabolic” figure violently swinging a long, pointed and sharp weapon – right and left, up and down – wounding her daughter, Mary Joy, and eventually cutting off the hands of the girl – all done without any provocationl, without any mercy and without any trace of kindness, even a bit of it, that a stepfather could give to a stepdaughter..

Then, Laura said, she would screamed and cried and screamed again and cried  again at the top of her voice. She wanted to run outside but she was scared that her daughter would be chopped to pieces. “Mura jud ko ug nawa sa kalibutan,”  Laura said. Yes, she admitted that she seemed to have been “lost” after all that she witnessed in front of her entire family. The screaming of her other children who were already awake almost made her lost her balance, but according to her, she had to gather every effort to survive.

Help didn’t immediately come, according to her, as the neighbors’ houses were not really built close to theirs.

I looked at Mary Joy, while Laura was narrating her version of the ordeal. My  attention was transferred to Joy as I saw her eagerness to share her story. I asked her: “Mibati ka ba ug labihang kasakit Joy sa sa mga samad nga imong na-angkon?”

And she answered in a soft sweet voice: “Wala na man ko kahibaw ug wala naman ko kahinumdom nga sakit ba ug dili ba,.” 

Dave made a follow up and asked:  “Ikaw Nang Laura, unsa may uban nimong gihimo adtong tungura gawas sa pagsinggit ug pangayo ug pakitabang”?

Laura said: “Mao to nga mibangon ko ug dali dali. Mura ko ug nawa sa kalibutan. Miduol ko sa akong pares, pero dili man ko niya padu-ulon kay iya mang iwara-wara tong iyang hinagiban. Mao tong naninggit mi. Mihilak ko. Naninggit akong mga anak ug nakita nako nga sigi pa gyud siyang atake ni Mary Joy hangtud nga ang manghud na pud ni Joy nga kadtong 3-ka tuig ang edad ang mihigda ibabaw ni Joy kay iya untang supurtahan iyang maguwang nga si Mary Joy. Ug mao na to nga siya na pud ang gi-atake sa akong pares,”

And Laura stopped the narration as she wiped the tears fastly falling down her cheeks.

At this momet, Dave and I looked at Mary Joy who was also letting go of the tears down her face. And the heavy rain continued with its downpour.

Dave and I were silent. We became still. The interview stopped. In the stillness of the moment, in our midst, Mary Joy volunteered in a faint voice: “Mao to nga iyang gi-apil akong manghud ug gidala mi sa ospital ug namatay sa ospital akong igsoon nga milaban naho. Ug nawa na pud akong mga kamot. Unya daghan na ko ug mga samad. Hu hu hu hu.”

I clinched my fist. We were seated on the floor. Dave didn’t notice that he was already stepping on my hand as he wanted to get out of the hut we were in. I didn’t complain of the pain as Dave stepped on my hand. I was ashamed to complain. Mary Joy didn’t even complain that she doesn’t anymore have her pair of hands. I wanted to ask more questions. But the stillness of the atmosphere made the surroundings damp and dark. And it was only 12:00 o’clock noontime.

Indeed, I still wanted to ask the following questios:

But Dave and I decided to stay silent and keep the stillness of our hearts. We felt heavy like the downpour of the rain. But did we totally stop with our interview? (To be continued)

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