Remember when I started telling you about the unbelievable time I accidentally started working for a drug dealer in Dominican Republic?

I had to take a little creative break to prepare myself for telling you the rest of the story. I'm going to be honest,
I was feeling quite vulnerable reliving these days with you so I went on a creative rampage and couldn’t bring myself to channel in the person I was when this story was going on and stopped writing it, leaving you all hanging!

After much request to tell you all how it ends, I think I am ready to dig in again and let this story flow through my fingertips, on to be shared with the world! So, let me settle your minds and tell you what happened next!

If you’re new here and real-life accounts of secrets, murder, escape plans, damsels-in-distress/ alter-egos and overall travel gone-wrong are your thing, read on. I’ll link back the previous chapters to catch you up in case you get hooked ;)

This is Part 9 of my experience getting caught up in a crime mob in Dominican Republic as a young girl with a lot of emotional issues. Things got pretty intense, especially when there was murder involved.

Last time we ended here:

“Adam continued babbling on and on about the boats and the drugs and the crimes committed and I was convincing myself it was all just a dream so I could close my eyes without fear. We finished watching Gatsby and fell asleep on the couch, seemingly prisoners in my apartment until further notice.

I'm not American but America's Most Wanted sounds a bit more troublesome than is being lead on... it also sounds like there is a fat chance of getting paid. I think it's time to get out of here and quick. Is it possible to escape this people? Find out in the next part, coming soon ;)

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Confessions of a Vagabond:

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"Remember the Time I Worked for a Drug Runner in Punta Cana PT 9: Get Out NOW"

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The sun caught my heavy eyelids as I struggled against the rays to greet the day. A resounding, far-too-frequent fire dancing behind my forehead, teasing my thoughts and pounding on my patience. This particular type of headache… hmmm… headache isn’t the right word as it was more menacing than that. Brain pain. My poor mind was oozing confusion and resentment of my situation.

Fumbling my sore limbs out of the grasp of the couch, I rolled onto the ground and could barely manage to crawl towards the only water source in the house… the sole water bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. My ribs felt like bursting from trying to squeeze onto the small space together (all in an attempt to avoid any awkwardness that might accompany inviting Adam into my bed.)

Despite the current struggle I was having, I was hell-bent to get myself out of the confines of this constructed-by-Kyle-prison-cell.

Adam sounded like a dying pig. His snoring was insufferable. Drool hung down from his chin and formed a pool on the cushion his head was smashed into. I wondered to myself if he was going to remember his late night confessions.

I knew I needed to summon more strength, ask for outside guidance, find something hidden inside of me or hope for a super-hero to sweep in from the sky because I was too young, dumb and too damn scared to map myself an exit route.

I diverted all of my weight off of my toes and crept like a feather around the house, collecting what I needed to go into town. Laptop in my hand, I maneuvered the door handle ever so slightly, and was slithering out into the hall unseen when I heard commotion downstairs.

Startled, I shut the door and put my lap top down. Trying to shy away from the entrance, I slinked my way into the corner, trying to see if from my top floor vantage, I could get a look or at least hear what was going on in the courtyard below.

Why would I have even questioned it? Luck was being a temptress and lately didn't find my side appealing. Of course it was Kyle. His tattooed, scaly skinned arms were wailing around sheets of paper as he spoke (yelled) Spanish at a local man, much shorter than him… probably one of his employees from the boats as I hadn’t seen him around before.

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With no other way to exit, I had no way out of the building which meant Kyle had me cornered. Something told me to keep watching so I made sure to stay hidden from their view while I watched everything happening with curious eyes, hoping for a glimpse of an idea to escape.

I know at this point, you might think “You’re free, you could just walk away if you wanted to!”

I’ll admit to you, even as I write this to you, my new personality (one who has grown a great deal since then) agrees with you but only from a strengthened position that I didn’t have back then. I still to this day have chills thinking about what those men were capable of and as much as my days were uncomfortable and inconvenient, I preferred that option to being on their bad side after hearing more and more of their stories.

I knew I needed to get in touch with back home, I needed to talk to someone, I needed to know I wasn’t losing my mind.

After the courtyard gang dispersed back into their respective apartments and Kyle took off in what appeared to be an overwhelmingly bad mood, I decided to make my break and take my chances so, I grabbed my laptop and ran like hell.

By the time I got to the internet café, new possibilities were swirling around in my mind. What were they going to do when they found out I wasn’t there? Could I get back before anyone noticed? Why did I leave? Was I crazy?

Come on, come on! The internet (at that time) was the biggest challenge of patience. Stress attacking me, clock ticking, sweat dripping out of every pore on my body, I finally got connected to the wifi and immediately logged into Skype, pressing 'call' anxiously.

No answer. What time was it? Oh no! It would be the middle of the night back home. No one would be awake or logged in to take my calls. My break for freedom was starting to dim out.

Feeling defeated and now gripped with fear for the looming punishment that might be waiting for me back at my apartment, I desperately continued calling with no response.

I logged into FB and saw that I had missed messages there so for a split second, I was floating, thinking I had someone waiting to save me… however to my horror, it was from Adam!

His message was frantic... something about if I didn’t get back there fast, I was going to regret it. He also promised to cover for me if I came back right away. Sensing the benefit of having him to defend me in case I was to be caught for this, I picked up my lap top and ran as fast as I could back to the apartment, taking special precaution to get to my room without being seen.

The problem with all that was that my apartment was directly in front of the boss’ so it was going to be nearly impossible to get inside if anyone was around.

Of course, guess who was waiting for me. Spoiler alert: there were no happy faces on these guys.

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Being threatened for the umpteenth time, and then dragged upstairs yet again to be flung into a chair. Well, that’s when I started weaving my plan. I was done playing their games. Time to start a game of my own.

I told them I was going to be honest with them (and I was) I told them that I was feeling overwhelmed with grief over being a part from my boyfriend. Building the very real torment and agony into a picture for them to understand certainly got them thinking about approaching things differently as they all stood there stunned by my confession.

Something had happened to me right before coming that I normally would have never told them but in this case, I was pulling every card I had and this one, although painful, embarrassing, and heartbreaking for me, was what one might call a “get-away-free-card.”

Since this confrontation was happening in the apartment of the druglords… I mean Kyle and James… Adam was there, sitting on the couch, watching everything through a hungover glaze. Emily was also there, and she looked like she had been dragged through a specially reserved hell. Her face was sunken in, eyes blacked from the apparent lack of sleep, stress danced itself in wrinkles across her skin and she spoke with hesitation as her sympathy was peaked.

“I’m going to take her to the doctor.” She said to the room.

Protest came from Kyle as he listed off all of the reasons why I needed to stay under his supervision but to my gratitude, she stood up and she took my hand and marched me out of the room and whisked me down the stairs and through the streets until we came to a white counter on the corner.

I had never heard Em speak Spanish before but she hacked her way through whatever she was trying to say and the woman behind the counter, looking at us with thick, black, raised eyebrows, handed her a 10 piece tab of reddish jelled pills. Em paid for it, flung it at me and looked at me for the first time in what seemed like forever.

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“Get your sh*t together and I mean now!”

Realizing I only had one option and that was the red pill... why did it have to be a red pill of all colors? I was really wishing I could have had the option of blue. Swallowing what I was given, I looked at Em and down the rabbit hole I went.

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If you're following along, finding yourself hooked to the screen on this one, stay tuned. I'm not going to let it go as long in between this time! Just look at it as a short season finale ;) It's back now and as it's coming to a close, it's getting even more juicy!

If you've yet to read the series, here is the introduction, Welcome to DR, Part 1

Trying to Make Sense of Everything Going Wrong in Part 2
My Confusion and Panic in Part 3
My favourite, The Reveal (of the Terrifying Secret) Part 4.
An Intro to Kat Part 4.5
The More You Know Part 5
Kat Gone Wild Part 6
Kyle's Prisoner, Part 7
Adam's Drunken Incrimination Party, Part 8

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I hope you stick around to read what happens next. I sure couldn't have predicted it. If you're wondering what the heck I am talking about, check out the links to the first chapters to catch up!

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A gypsy life bought to you by @heart-to-heart
From January 2014- June 2017 I have been what you would call a vagabond, a nomad, even a gypsy by definition of the words. I had what they all have in common: no fixed home...and no fixed income but the wildest stories.