I was trapped in an industrial zone in Cambodia for seven long years, to the point where I gradually lost all semblance of humanity.
It wasn’t until my twins uttered their first cries that my long-hardened heart stirred with a glimmer of warmth.
My husband – the right-hand man of the industrial zone boss – usually treated me with violence and bone-chilling coldness.
But one late night, he suddenly burst into the room, throwing a heavy suitcase and a train ticket at me.
“Go now! Take the children! Tomorrow this place will be raided, no one will survive!”
His voice was hoarse. His eyes held a fear I hadn’t seen in seven years.
I hugged the two children tightly, my whole body trembling.
“What about you?”
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, forcing a crooked smile.
“I will go and fight for a clean future for our children.”
⸻
01
I have been in Cambodia for seven years.
The sun in West Port is both harsh and merciless, scorching every inch of land without mercy.
My skin has long been sunburned, dry, and darkened.
The numerous scars on my arms are the only remaining evidence of that time.
Here, they call me A Ninh.
No one remembers that I was once called Ha Ninh.
Even I myself have almost forgotten.
Seven years ago, I was tricked into coming here by my then-boyfriend.
My passport was confiscated, and I was locked up in an industrial zone like a commodity.
In the beginning, I could still cry, still scream, still harbor hope of escaping.
After that, only numbness remained.
Fear became a luxury.
Only paralysis is my only armor protecting me.
In this place, human life isn’t even worth as much as a dog’s.
I’ve witnessed countless people being beaten, their legs broken, thrown to the roadside, left to die.
And many others sold off and vanished from the face of the earth as if they never existed.
I’ve survived until today… thanks to Wei Jun.
He’s the right-hand man of the industrial park boss, notoriously ruthless.
And also my husband.
Of course, there was no wedding, no blessings, not even a marriage certificate.
The boss threw the woman he no longer needed to him like trash.
That woman was me.
Wei Jun doesn’t love me, he even despises me.
He considers me a burden, a dirty object that’s been used by others.
He’s never hidden that contempt.
When he was happy, he’d reward me with a meal.
When he wasn’t happy, punches and kicks were commonplace.
A slap landed, making my head spin, my mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood.
I couldn’t dodge, nor could I resist.
All I could do was cower, covering my head like a resigned dog.
Until a year ago, when the twins were born.
An An and Nhiên Nhiên.
My An An, my Nhiên Nhiên.
The two little ones were wrinkled like newborn kittens.
Their cries brought a little life to this silent room for the first time.
They also revived my heart.
I began to fear death.
I wanted to see them grow up.
Even in this hellish place.
Wei Jun’s feelings for his children couldn’t be called love.
He only occasionally stood by the cradle, silently watching for a while.
His gaze was complex, as if observing two unfamiliar objects.
As for me, he still scolded me as before.
Only he didn’t hit my face anymore.
He said he was afraid of startling the children.
Today, the atmosphere in the industrial park was as tense as a tightrope.
A sense of impending storm hung in the air.
Even Wei Jun returned earlier than usual.
He reeked of blood and gunpowder.
He kicked the door open and walked in, without glancing at me or the children.
He went straight into the bathroom and ran for a long time.
When he came out, he was only wrapped in a towel.
His muscular body now bore several new wounds.
I held Nian Nian, whom I had just lulled to sleep, not daring to breathe loudly.
An An lay in her crib, her dark, grape-like eyes wide with curiosity, looking at him.
Wei Jun approached, rarely reaching out to gently touch An An’s cheek.
His fingers were rough and calloused.
Yet An An showed no fear, instead grinning broadly.
Wei Jun felt as if he’d been burned, quickly withdrawing his hand.
He turned his head, giving me a cold glance.
“Watch the children carefully, and don’t make any noise tonight.”
I bowed my head and softly replied, “Yes.”
Late at night.
I was awakened by a frantic knocking on the door.
It was Wei Jun’s room.
My room was just a storage room.
I immediately covered the children’s mouths, my heart pounding.
In this place, knocking on the door in the middle of the night usually meant death.
The door was kicked open.
I looked up in horror; it was Wei Jun.
His entire body was covered in blood, a deep gash on his face, his flesh torn open.
He was gasping for breath, his eyes bloodshot.
I had never seen that look before.
Not cruel, not violent.
But fear.
02
Wei Jun burst in.
He locked the door and threw the heavy black suitcase down in front of me.
The suitcase hit the ground with a dull thud.
“Take it.”
His voice was hoarse, like a broken gong.
I hugged my two children, trembling, and huddled in the corner.
“What is it?”
“Money.”
He answered curtly.
Then he pulled a folded piece of paper from his chest and slipped it into my hand.
“And this.”
Thanks to the faint light…
Looking out the window, I could see clearly.
It was a train ticket.
From West Port, destination Singapore.
My heart pounded in my chest.
A train ticket.
For the past seven years, I’d longed to leave this place even in my dreams.
But now, with the ticket in my hand, I felt a chill to the bone.
“Why?”
I asked, trembling.
Wei Jun leaned against the door, breathing heavily.
Chaos footsteps and curses echoed in the hallway.
“Go now! Take the child!”
He roared, his eyes fixed on me.
“Tomorrow this place will be raided, no one will survive!”
Raid.
No one will survive.
Those eight words struck my heart like a hammer.
I understood.
I understood everything.
No wonder the atmosphere was so strange today.
No wonder my brother reeked of gunpowder.
It turns out the end has come.
I hugged An An and Nhiên Nhiên tightly, tears streaming down my face.
They were squeezed so tightly they started to sniffle.
I quickly loosened my grip, gently patting their backs.
I have to go.
For the children.
I looked up at Wei Jun, trembling as I asked,
“What about you?”
He wiped the blood from his face, mixed with sweat and mud, making his face even more ferocious.
But he laughed.
For the first time in seven years, I saw him laugh.
Not a contemptuous or cold laugh.
But a laugh of liberation.
“Me?”
He repeated as if he’d heard something funny.
“I will go and fight for a clean future for our children.”
A clean future.
Do people like us deserve a future?
Let alone a clean one.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed.
He wasn’t a good person.
He was a devil, a butcher, his hands stained with blood.
He was never a decent husband either.
He beat me, cursed me, never treated me like a human being.
But in this moment, looking at the man ready to face death for his child, I couldn’t hate him.
“There are so many people outside, how can we get out?”
I clung to a glimmer of hope.
Maybe this was just a nightmare.
“The dog’s path behind the mountain, remember?”
He asked.
I shuddered.
I discovered that path when I first arrived here.
I had planned to escape that way many times.
But each time I failed because Wei Jun was watching.
How did he know?
“I always knew.”
He seemed to read my thoughts, and replied softly.
“That path was intentionally left there, waiting for this day.”
I burst into tears again.
So he knew everything.
Known I wanted to escape.
And had foreseen this day.
“Don’t cry anymore.”
He snapped softly, his voice full of irritation.
“Crying won’t get you anywhere, get out!”
He stepped forward, picked up the suitcase.
With his other hand, he pulled me to my feet.
“Go quickly!”
He pushed my back towards the window.
The window was narrow, and below was a steep and slippery hillside.
Outside, sporadic gunshots began to ring out.
They were getting closer and closer.
Wei Jun’s expression grew even more grim.
He opened the window and threw the suitcase down first.
Then he took Nian Nian from my arms.
The baby, awakened from her sleep, let out a fussy whimper.
Wei Jun held her tightly, his movements clumsy like a machine.
He bent down and quickly kissed his daughter’s forehead.
Then he handed her out the window.
“Catch her.”
I climbed out, my feet touching the slippery, muddy ground.
I trembled as I caught my daughter.
Next was An An.
Likewise, he gently kissed his son’s forehead.
Only after I held both of them close did he poke his head out the window.
“Run east, don’t look back.”
“There’s someone waiting at the dock, the ship is called Hai Sha.”
“Once you’re on board, you’re safe.”
He gave meticulous instructions, as if giving his last words.
“Remember, never tell them they have a father like me.”
After saying that, he tried to pull his head back inside.
“Wei Jun!”
I don’t know where I got the courage from, but I called out his name loudly.
He stopped, turned to look at me.
In the darkness, his eyes were hazy.
“Live well.”
I heard myself say.
