Confronting My Greatest Fear

All of a sudden, darkness enveloped me. I looked at my surroundings, but there wasn't a faintest ray of light reflected off any surface. A moment ago, I looked back to the gate, just in time to catch the last glimpse of light faded away into the distance as I made a right turn. Beyond that point, light ceased to exist. I was shrouded in total darkness. As I stood there, in the middle of a palm oil plantation, a bizarre fear built up in me.

I didn't want to continue the descend.

This wasn't what I expected to encounter when I visited Sasanarakkha Buddhist Sanctuary. I have come to the sanctuary a day before Kathina Day to avoid the buzzing crowd, to soak myself in nature wonders and to frame the spectacular views into digital files. But at 8 p.m., after a two-hour stay in the sanctuary, I was starving and tired. I longed for a hot meal and wanted to leave Sasanarakkha Buddhist Sanctuary as fast as possible.

I walked to the rendezvous point where I could ride a jeep down. To my dismay, the jeep would only depart after another 30 minutes. I couldn't wait. And I didn't want to wait. The hike down by foot would take 20 minutes. If I quickened my pace, I could probably make it in 15 minutes. I contemplated the options I had. Was it wise to foray into the darkness alone? Could there be muggers hiding behind bushes waiting to ambush me? Or maybe there were things even more sinister out there in the wild?

I was scared, but I started the descend.

The air was still. I breathed heavily. Raising my hand while activating the illumination, I looked at my watch. It was 8.15 p.m., merely 5 minutes into the descend. I knew I wasn't that far from the gate of Sasanarakkha Buddhist Sanctuary. Should I turn back? But that would mean conceding defeat. Besides, if I pushed forward, there was just another 10-minute walk ahead. It wouldn't take long, I reassured myself.

I was still scared, yet I continued the descend.

Fortunately, the concrete pavement made easy my descend. I didn't have to worry stumbling over tree roots or rocks. Without a way to illuminate my path, I took out my cell phone and pressed the cancel button repeatedly to get the small screen lighted all the time. With that dim light, I kept a steady pace.

The night was eerily quiet. An intense fear crept up my spine as flashes of horror scenes from movies flickered through my mind. To make matter worse, a Chinese graveyard was just a stone throw away. I couldn't help it but think of the inhabitants there. My mind had played a trick on itself and I was cut out of the loop. I wasn't in control. All I could do was to chatter prayers.

Soon, steep slope became flat land and the concrete pavement ended abruptly. In front of me lied a narrow path cutting through a palm oil plantation. The fear in me did not subside. Raising my feet higher to avoid kicking rocks on the uneven earth, I broke into a small run.

I had no idea how long I ran. I only slowed down when I heard the distance sound of the roar of a car engine. The head lights came nearer and nearer until the jeep halted beside me. The driver looked expectantly at me and smiled.

"Why don't you get into the car?"

I must have looked like hell. Without uttering a word, I climbed onto the back of the jeep.

As I sat there in the jeep, I realized that my skin resembled a goosebump farm. The night wasn't hot but I was soaked wet. It was cold sweat.

I didn't wait for the jeep, but I ended in one.