I decided to spend my summer vacation as a volunteer in an orphanage, again. After a broken heart and full surrender about relationships, I decided to find the missing piece of me in unknown places. It probably won’t make things better, but it would definitely change my focus.

This is the second time I would travel alone, in a different country. The first time was a smooth ten-day volunteering activity where I packed my backpack, money and passport.. I told my boss I needed a break, and left the country. Nobody knew where I went. My previous volunteering gave me enough courage. And here I am again, for a new adventure.

I was at the airport, waiting for the pickup tuk tuk from the orphanage.

They should be here by this time, waiting for me, I thought. We agreed that they would pick me up. They know my flight schedule, my name, my picture.

I sent them a message that I have arrived. No response.

I tried to recall what I have read about this orphanage.. The reviews from other volunteers.

Minutes became an hour, and it started to feel sketchy.

An hour became two. I went to the tourist information office and told them my situation. A muscular man with a scar on his face told one of the staff to call the orphanage for me. I gave them the name and number, but they could not reach it.

Three hours. I started searching for a hotel to stay. Maybe this volunteering thing wouldn’t work this time.

And there it was! The orphanage replied to my message. They blamed me for not sending them message in the afternoon. They gave me a direction to go there. They told me to take a tuk tuk and come to the orphanage. I asked the same muscular man where to take the tuk tuk. He led me to the terminal. A few minutes of negotiation with the driver and I am on the way.

It was a long drive on a road between vast rice fields. No street lights in sight. There were some houses on the way, but they don’t seem to have electricity.

We arrived at what seems to be a big, old house with an arc at the entrance. Using the light of my phone, I read what was written “International Bridges .” It was the name of the orphanage. I tried to call out. No response.

The driver said something in a language I do not understand, as if also calling out to whoever is inside. Still, no response.

He offered to call the number using his own phone. No answer.

He stayed on the phone for a few more minutes talking to someone else. He then turned to me and said, “I need to leave now. My wife is now worried.”

“Don’t leave me alone in this kind of place,” I told him. I must request, but I am getting furious about this orphanage that I would sound like demanding from him.

He told me he had no intention of leaving me alone. But he didn’t like the place and he had to leave.

“Take me to this hotel instead,” I said as I showed him the hotel that I booked while waiting at the airport. He looked at my phone and said that the knows a place that is safer but may cost a bit more. He seem to have decided for me.

I got back on the tuktuk and he drove away so much faster than before. While driving, he called me crazy and scolded me for agreeing not to be picked up by my hosts. I told him the story, but he seem to be more furious than me. He told me never to agree coming back to that place even if they would call again.

I appreciated his concern. And just when I was thinking what to say to him, a group of people appeared at the fork of the road. The driver steered to turn but there was a truck approaching from the left. Just then I realized that there were people walking behind us, as if following us. They are all wearing black robes and black hoods. My heart is beating at the fastest rate I have ever felt. I wanted to ask, “What is going on? Who are they? What do they want?” But not a sound would come out of my throat..

The driver is turning and turning, but there is nowhere to turn for escape. We have to run, he said. But I am shivering. The darkness, the breeze and these people are too much for me. Next thing I know, I am at the muddy rice field, being led by the driver to crawl away from the hooded people. I think he pushed me. And then he pulled me under the bushes. My vision became blurry. I just knew that he was dialing his phone. That phone was the last light the I saw before total darkness overcame me. My mind is cloudy. Then I heard screams and gunshots.

After what felt like eternity, I was being moved. They put me on a stretcher. I hear them talking. Angry voices, scared voices, commanding voices… I tried to open my eyes, there were flashlights. I saw their clothes. Police. A hooded man is handcuffed. The muscular man at the airport is here too. And darkness came again.

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