I've always feared being alone. Whether it’s in the dark, light, or something that most people would find scary. It has always been there. I just hate the feeling that one feels by oneself. If I must say myself, it’s fair to believe that everyone needs it every so often. In need of being alone to search for calmness, if found. This one journey of mine started all of this. 

I remember a summer in a park, similar to the big “gig” of the industries. Think of Disney as one. I was with my family. Although tons of rides were in the park, one of them stood out to me. I can’t remember the theme of the ride, but if I must say it was spontaneous. I remember entering the ride alone. I got so excited that my surroundings didn’t matter. If I recall correctly, the ride had planes and cars flying in the sky. I mean, who wouldn’t be impressed. Little, me, couldn't wait my turn. I rode a one-seat plane, so my parents couldn’t get in with me even if they wanted to. I knew for sure I wasn’t brave enough to go on my own, but I had an urge to prove myself wrong. I got in the ride, enjoyed it while it lasted. When the ride came to an end, I was on the other side of the park. 

For the first time in my life, I was scared to death. I soared through the crowd as fast as possible. The only thought lingering in my mind was to find my parents, hoping that they were somewhere around the corner. I stopped for a second and saw a man who looked just like my dad. I started following him, hoping that it was my dad. I called out his name, but he didn’t respond. At that point, I thought to myself that there was no point in fighting, I should just give up. Eventually, I realized I lost my way. But then a man approached me and asked me if I needed help. I said yes, and he grabbed my hand and carried me out of the park. I never got the “stranger-danger” so I went with the man. I knew no better. We were close to the gate when an announcement went on, looking for a girl lost somewhere around the park. Their description was accurate. They were looking for me. Someone recognized me and called me out of the crowd. There was a big stage in front of me. I saw my family. It felt like forever since I last saw them. Their eyes were red, nose stuff and their voices crack. I once again reunited with my mother’s embrace. Her sweet scent of vanilla reminded me of just how much I missed her.  It was then after our reunion that my mom reminded me of the danger I was in that I realized I was lucky, but what if I wasn’t.

 I went home with them, but something in me was lost that day. It has been years now. In fact, I don’t even remember most of it. This experience alone gave me a low-key fear of being lost. You’re probably wondering what I lost that day. Ever since that day and henceforth, I have always felt like a part of me stays in the park. Although I left with my parents that day, I can’t help but to feel that I have lost something there. Was it the little me lost, or just the question left behind.  Now I’m just left questioning what if for most of the time. For example, what if I actually left the park with the man? The fact that I didn’t realize that later on was what scared me.