MANG RENATO! HUWAG PO... HUWAG PO...

That was my inner dialogue. Period.

The director told me that i am not supposed to scream or kick the balls of my rapist.

I am a clammy girl. I am the daughter of the village whore. I am ridiculed for my mum's classic profession. My mum and i are alone in the world and she is sick. I love my mum. I have to find a way to cure her and get out of this forsaken town even if it takes shamanistic rituals to do it. I call our friendly neighborhood albularyo to summon spirits and orders me to get a sacrificial black hen come midnight full moon. I have the friggin hen with me only to lose it in a sugar cane field. Desperate, I look for the pasaway hen in the tubohan. Mang Renato, an anak-pawis trike driver, passed by drunk and suddenly had the bright idea of raping me. And thus came my first rape scene in the span of my acting career.

It was the typical rape scene sa barrio kind of thing. It's just like what we see on films where we, as viewers, try to mentally instruct the probinsyana lass to grab him by the balls or kick him in the groin or bite his cheek for crying out loud so that you could escape. This time I was the rapee, I am now that probinsyana lass you tried to instruct. All I could say to people like me who grunts about girls not fighting the rapist when it looks so breezy to kick and grab--- Ate, kaw kaya dito?

Of course, its not ok to be raped. Naman! My powers were drained similarly to that drained feeling of LBM. It was the first time i closed my eyes so tight enough to tighten my pores. Screaming didn't do much to let the rapist know that you do NOT agree with what he is doing. It was stickingly moist and chilly. Your arms are weighed and pinned down. You hallucinate that the grasses and the sugar canes will somehow come alive to rescue you, but you realize they won't move and give a shit. And then cut!

I could just imagine if i was really raped. A different man slathering saliva all over your johnson's baby powdered neck. A different man making kiskis over your johnson's baby milk lotioned arms. heeeeegahhd! The horror! The trauma! After that scene, the rapist/actor (a friend of mine), relaxed and got over it. I still lay there splat on the grass like a rejected pechay. Ate, mahirap pala ma-rape.

Chippendale, a male and our DOP, immediately moved the camera and said we had to take a different point of view. Wait, you’re not helping me move on. Nakita mo na ngang na-rape ako eh, nakahandusay at kalunos-lunos tapos yan lang ang isu-suggest mo? You heartless creature. Our director, a female, understood the way my eyes made tirik upon his remark and told me to rest for 5 minutes. I am no Sharon Cuneta here but at least empathize with me. I didn't move for 5 minutes then we did it again in three different angles.

If i hadn't been clumsy and tried to hold still the pasaway hen then i wouldn't have lost it in the sugar cane field and i wouldn't have to be raped.

Now, I am cinematically deflowered.