The bamboo raft had barely reached the shore, and I hadn't even had a chance to catch my breath, when several dark figures dragged me ashore. It was pitch black all around; the only sounds were heavy breathing and muffled curses. I was terrified, clutching tightly to the cloth bag on my body, which contained my meager belongings.
"You all better behave!" a voice said viciously, with a heavy accent that I could barely understand. In the dim moonlight, I could see that the speaker was a burly man with a long scar on his face, which gleamed eerily in the moonlight.
We were forced into a dilapidated van, the interior filled with a pungent odor, a mixture of sweat and gasoline. The van bumped and jolted along for what seemed like an eternity before finally stopping in a secluded spot.
Before me was a run-down courtyard, surrounded by high walls, with shards of glass stuck in them. The scarred man shoved us into a small, dark room. Several other men, similar in appearance to us, were already inside, their eyes filled with confusion and fear.
"Listen up," the scarred man stood in the doorway, a stick in his hand. "From now on, you'd better work hard. Those who disobey, don't blame me for being ruthless!" He pointed to a pile of tools in the corner. "Tomorrow morning, you'll be at the construction site carrying bricks. If you do well, you'll get food; if you don't, you'll go hungry!"
The next day, before dawn, we were herded out of bed. We followed a tall, thin man to a construction site. The site was filled with dust, steel, and cement; the roar of the machines was deafening. The tall, thin man tossed me a pair of tattered gloves and pointed to a pile of bricks not far away. "Move these over there. If you don't finish today, don't even think about eating!"
I looked at the mountain of bricks, my heart pounding with fear. But for the sake of food and sending money home, I gritted my teeth and bent down. At first, I could barely keep up, but soon my hands were blistered, and my shoulders ached from the pressure. Sweat soaked my clothes, dripping down my face and evaporating instantly on the scorching bricks.
At noon, the sun was like a giant fireball, making it hard to breathe. We were taken to a makeshift shed, where each of us was given a steamed bun and a bowl of watery soup so thin you could see your reflection. The bun was as hard as a rock, and the soup was almost devoured, but I still wolfed it down; I was starving.
Back in that dark little shed that night, I was so exhausted I felt like my bones were about to fall apart. I collapsed onto the floor and fell asleep instantly. I don't know how long I slept, but I was suddenly awakened by a sound of beatings and curses. It turned out that one of the brothers couldn't take the hardship anymore and tried to sneak away, but the scarred man discovered him. The scarred man grabbed a stick and beat him mercilessly, hurling insults at him. The guy was curled up on the ground, begging for mercy with his head in his hands, a sight that sent chills down my spine.
After a few days of this, I felt I couldn't take it anymore. The blisters on my hands burst, new ones formed, and my shoulders were swollen. To make matters worse, one day, the tall, thin guy suddenly said the work at the construction site was finished and that we should follow him to another place.
We were taken to a small town. The tall, thin guy led us to the entrance of a small restaurant, spoke a few words to the owner, and then told us, "From now on, you'll work here, washing dishes and mopping floors. Room and board are provided, and you'll get 300 yuan a month."
I did the math in my head—the money was far too little—but I didn't dare say anything. At the restaurant, we were busy from morning till night, not only washing dishes but also helping to serve food and clear tables. After customers left, we had to clean up quickly; if we were even slightly slow, the owner would yell at us.
The work in the restaurant was dirty and exhausting. Greasy bowls piled high like small mountains, and my hands, constantly soaked in water, became white and cracked, aching terribly. At night, we slept in the basement behind the restaurant. The basement was dark, damp, and musty, with rats scurrying around in the corners, often waking me in the middle of the night with their noise.
Once, I accidentally broke a plate, and the boss immediately deducted 20 yuan from my paycheck. 20 yuan! How many dishes would I have to wash, how many times would I have to mop the floor to earn that back! I felt incredibly wronged, but there was nothing I could do.
In this unfamiliar place, I was alone and helpless, unable to speak the language. I felt like I had fallen into hell, with no hope in sight. I began to miss my home in Vietnam, my mother and sister, wondering how they were doing. But I knew I couldn't give up; I had to earn money to change my family's situation.