The Recruit

Chapter 6

Summer 2020 - Somewhere in West Sumatera, Indonesia

Livia's Point of View

"Jaka, ayo larinya pelan-pelan!" I shouted to Jaka to slow down as he just recovered from a head injury.

It's been 6 months I worked in this orphanage. I have grown close to the kids and learn that I managed to find a way to fill a void in my heart about wanting children. I loved taking care of kids during the day and left to go home during the night for my moment of solitude. This seemed perfect, so I get to make the children happy while at the same time I would be able to go home, if I get overwhelmed.

It sounded horrible, I know. At least this way I can assure the children they are loved and won't ever laid hands at these children that I consider my own when I felt short tempered . I would never want to hit anyone ever again. 

The last one should only be Jake. Even when I loved him, it turned out it didn't even stop me from slapping him and I would forever regret it ever happened. Every time that memory came back I cringed and close my eyes, hoping I could erase the deed and the memory of that event. A reminder of why I shouldn't have a family, I told myself for what felt like the 100th time.

"Miss Liv? Are you okay?" Asked Forest, a girl barely 5 years old that I have grown to be fond off. She just arrived at our orphanage 2 weeks ago, but I'm really proud of her as she was adjusting and playing well with her new brothers and sisters.

"I am fine, Forest, don't worry sweet girl. Thank you for asking." I gave an assuring smile at the girl. Nevertheless, she sat by me and gave me a hug.

The orphanage that I worked with is managed by Catholic priests and nuns, so they had been either pestering me to get married to fulfil God's word to reproduce or encourage me to apply as a noviciate with their congregation. Every time it happened, I just laughed and wave them off or nod in agreement, giving different responses tailored for different people who asked.

They took me in after my Europe trip for my persistence. I kept badgering one of their congregation services that specially deals with mental illness to get them to help me. After a month of staying with them and processing my trauma, they offer me a job at one of their orphanage seeing that I had an interest in child care. I refused at first, telling them my temper would get the best of me and reminding them that I am still working on my issues.

The head priest of the retreat place just waved his hand and said "Nonsense. Try it first and if anything happens, we'll fire you. Besides, nobody told you to quit therapy, you could do it while you teach."

Father Ambrose had never lied to me so far, so I trusted that he knew what he was doing. To heal, I'll have to at least try this job and put my faith in the congregation that Father Ambrose would fire me if he thought I started to become a danger. 

Here I was, proving Father Ambrose's point that I was good enough to work with children and my emotions never got the best of me. I felt like I am healing and being with the children and taking care of them brought joy to my life. 

Aside from working here, I helped the congregation's other services like this retreat place to facilitate. Although I usually do the technical side of things instead of leading prayers or discussion, since I haven't considered myself the religious kind for a long while. I was raised Catholic and I was still pretty involved with them, but I decided on being an agnostic upon graduating university.

I never told them about my time in Europe, since sex before marriage was still a taboo discussion and I need to maintain a good image to stay here and get help. I changed my name legally to my Christian name, Livia, to commemorate my change and let go of my traumatic experiences as a child.