110. Reflection

Saturday night.


I sip my tea.

Still got about 9 bucks in my pocket.

It’s dark.

MacD is packed.

People coming and going.

I tear open a sugar sachet.

Pour the little white crystals into my mouth.

Little white crystals.

Last night, at this time, I was just leaving Phnom Penh.

Flight SGN007.

Now, involuntarily, I’m in London.

Without a bed.

After the tea I’ll find an internet cafe and message my friends.

Surely someone will take me in.

Put me up.

I reflect on what led me here.

To this position.

To this circumstance.



Razor…back in Cambodia.

Maybe she’ll go back to the abuser now.

To the man whose name makes me rile with rage.

Makes me sick in my stomach.

I’ve never been this angry at any man before – perhaps with the exception of my father.

I’ve never wanted to kill a man before – perhaps with the exception of my father.

But him I would kill.

To protect Coco.

I’m not a violent man.

But I know, to protect a child – especially a child who looks up to me, respects me, trusts me – I know I could…would kill.

I’m not a violent man.

But to protect a 3 year old girl (any 3 year old girl, let alone one who loves me) I would kill or die.

They say everyone is capable of violence – even murder – in the right circumstances.

Pushed to the extreme.

I sip my tea.

My heart erupts – a volcano of pain.

Sparks of anger rage.

Love’s lava sears my veins.

Rocks of molten memories –

As clear and sharp as shards of crystal –

Scorch my brain.

Author: Mark Dark

Actor turned Christian missionary turns his back on his Hollywood dreams to combat sex trafficking in Cambodia – and finds himself tangled up in gang culture and a surreal internal world of drugs psychosis. Based on true events.