The Day I Left

I did something completely stupid.

The second I set foot in London, the realization came to me that I committed utter stupidity and that I really had no logical reason for doing all of this. I had no reason for stealing my grandmother's savings and fly to another continent to meet a complete stranger who doesn't even come up on g****e when you search for his name.

The only thing that comes up about Lionel Kendrick Vosse is his building contract, legal information about a marijuana problem he had in 2003 and a F******k page with lots of friends but no pictures.

So I spent 900 dolars impulsively to travel for the first time on a plane where I had two panic attacks. One when the smell and sound of people started to overwhelm me too much and then another when there was a little turbulence. Then I had to be escorted by the flight attendant to pick up my suitcase because I was deemed unstable and now I'm close to breaking down crying in the street because I'm not liking realizing how hard life is for me specifically.

Doing all of this was a hell of a lot harder for me than anyone would imagine, or what it would be for anyone else. Going to the airport, buying a ticket, even getting on the damn plane was a struggle.

And it only served to remind me how little I know about life, even though in theory, I know a lot of things. I also came to the realization that if you do nothing but stay holed up in your house reading, you start to create a false sense of being smart, but in reality you're losing social skills so you look completely stupid when you finally have to be in contact with people.

"Where do you want to go, do you speak English?" the taxi driver in front of me asks, as if he had already repeated that question many times. Maybe because I just stood in front of him and got lost in my thoughts instead of communicating like a normal person.

I nod my head without giving him any information about me to avoid some kind of attack and hand him the paper where the address of my biological father is.

"This is very far, lass," the driver complains, putting the address on his phone and looking at it with a frown, "It's deep into the woods... well, if I go this way I'll get there faster... but it will still be expensive, do you have enough money?"

"I have 200 pounds," I reply and he grunts, but nods and motions me into the cab. I struggle to get my suitcase in after me.

"I hope you know where you're going because it looks like a ghost town. I've never even heard of this place," he warns me, but it's the only bit of information I have from my father so I just shrug.

Once I'm inside the cab and it starts to drive, my heart goes crazy. Being somewhere else is much more difficult and intimidating than I thought it would be. I don't know anything, I don't know anyone, I don't know what's going to happen, I don't know how I'm going to survive here, I don't know how long it will be before I...

"Are you all right? My god, lass, what's wrong with you?" the driver asks after a few minutes of driving, turning to me when he notices my condition. I'm breathing with all my might and yet it feels like no air is getting into me. Everything closes in around me, and the fact that this man is so concerned only makes me feel worse.

I'm not good at this. At life.

I'm only good for staying in my room reading or watching porn. It's the only thing I'm good at. I should have stayed home where everything is safe and boring.

I start to implement the steps to calm myself down trying not to draw too much attention to myself, but the driver pulls over before I make it and opens my door to get me out, pulling me by one hand.

He holds out my arms once I'm standing outside and starts taking big breaths in front of me as he instructs me to do the same as he does. And even though I usually have my panic over in less than two minutes, it's easier when there's someone trying to help me and telling me there's nothing to be scared of.

Someone who has such kind eyes and a lot of lines around them, even though he doesn't look that old. I guess it's because he laughs a lot... so he's a good person, right? I mean, it doesn't seem to me that a mean person would laugh a lot. I think I'm right and the driver is good.

Maybe I could even trust him if my dad turns out to be a psycho and tries to kill me.

There you go! I already know someone. And I already know a mile of the city... a mile from the airport to this street where the driver stopped, but I can get a feel for what the city is like. And I also have a backup plan if the main plan fails: call the driver and ask for support.

"Thank you," I whisper, after taking ten seconds to calm down. My self-esteem is on the floor, but not because of him, because he was very good to me, but because since I left home, the only thing I've been able to feel is how useless I am. "It's my first time in another country. And I'm all alone. Sorry to scare you, I tried to stop it before you noticed. I have panic attacks quite often since I left home."

"Don't worry about it," he smiles at me. Cars pass by, "My daughter has panic attacks too. I'm good at dealing with them. Here, I'm going to give you a lolly. Sugar helps."

No, Midnight!

Never take things from strangers. Certainly never take anything that could be drugged. You could be unconscious in a matter of seconds, this man could rape you, torture you, sell your organs and/or kill you and no one would care. Your virgin, athletic, possibly magical body with an animal inside of it could be worth millions on the black market (not to mention the cost of each organ, perfectly preserved) and you haven't been waiting your whole life for a fat old pervert to be the one to penetrate you for the first time.

"Thank you, that's very kind," I smile at him once we're back in the car, grabbing the red lollipop from his hand. Once he starts driving again, my eyes focus on a photo hanging from the mirror. It's the driver with an older woman, a girl younger than me and a little boy. I haven't touched the lollipop yet, but seeing that makes me feel calmer and I bring it closer to my mouth.

A family man with a daughter my age is not as likely to rape or kill me, he would do that to her first. And if he had already done it, he wouldn't have any of her pictures in sight.

Mmm, this is pretty good. I don't usually eat sweets, so I find this lollipop the most delicious thing in the world and it puts me in a good mood.

During the long drive through the middle of absolutely nowhere, I decide to ask the driver questions to distract him in case he's thinking about how to kill me. I don't freak out too much because I can see that we are clearly following the gps, so we can talk and he ends up telling me about his kids and even complains about his wife for about ten minutes.

"What the hell?" He exclaims as the road starts to look very well kept and we start to see a couple of buildings and businesses. Fortunately, it doesn't appear to be a ghost town, but as soon as we start to go further in, we get stopped by a horde of people in black uniforms who appear to be guards, police or military, "Hello, sir."

The man who approached us gives the driver a deep look and then his eyes focus on me and something changes in him. He ignores the driver's greeting and approaches my window, asking me to roll it down.

"Identify yourself. What is your name? And why is he bringing you?" he demands, narrowing his eyes and making me nervous. This older man is a giant and very intimidating. And I don't understand why he's asking this.

"M-my name is Midnight. I'm not from London, I'm not from England either. This gentleman is just a taxi driver," I explain and the man frowns. He turns and beckons one of his companions to come over as well.

"What's your reason for visiting?" he asks when the other man arrives and they both look at me like I'm a zoo animal.

"I'm looking for my father. According to g****e, he lives here," I explain and hand him the paper where I wrote the address, they study it, "I don't understand, is there a problem?"

"What is your father's name?" the new man asks, without giving me back the paper with the address. I have it memorized, anyway, but this is getting too weird.

"Lionel Kendrick Vosse," I answer and for some reason the two men immediately believe me and relax. They look at each other and nod.

"All right, Midnight, we'll give you a ride to his house. Say goodbye to the gentleman and pay him for his service. Taxis are forbidden from here on out."

Good God, why? That's so weird.