I’ve never really thought about how frightening the night is. How it seems there are millions of eyes tracking you. When you are walking home in the cool, damp air, your senses seem much stronger. I had to bail from a party. I believe it is about one in the morning. At around eleven thirty everyone was getting drunk and a little too wild for my liking. So, I decided to walk home. And I don’t like to admit it, but I’m a little tiny bit lost.

My mom has always said, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” but I’m definitely not having fun on this cold curb, and every time I blink, the sun has gone much higher into the sky. I feel I have no control over my body, for now that there is light, I know how to get home, but my legs aren’t taking me there. My faded green Vans feel like slippers but my crusty jeans are making my thighs chafe. I would normally never ever do this, but I feel free on this deserted road so I shed my pants, tossing them on the damp, green grass lining the street.

Now I know from experience that it is startling to be on a vacant road one moment, and below a ton of skyscrapers the next. This time there actually are eyes tracing my every move. The employees who are opening their businesses seem strangely more cautious than usual.
My floating feeling has gone. I still don’t feel cold, though my soft fingertips trace the goosebumps on my thighs. This makes me wonder why I’m not wearing any pants. I faintly recall a tall, muscular boy with sandy brown hair at the party asking me to take them off but I turned my back to him. Didn’t I? Well, I don’t have any pants and that’s that. I keep walking.

When the sun is high in the sky and the bustling city of wherever my family moved to is beginning to get crowded, I feel an ache in my stomach and it vibrates along with a small noise. What is this? I can remember that my feeling can be cured, but it’s not too intense, so I dismiss it.

Do you know how alarming shouts can be? Well they’re even worse when the yeller is stalking towards you, pointing, and looking quite annoyed. The man was disturbing the peace and warmth of this calm day. Stopping, I gazed at this balding, pot bellied man as he loomed closer and closer. He seemed to get more persistent the nearer he came. I squatted, feeling a bit weary. I expected the man to continue on his path but he walked right up to me. His deep blue eyes narrowed but this didn’t make them any less striking. His pink lips were moving rapidly. His anger confused me. I saw his kindness, deep inside, and I stood, hooking my arm through his. He stiffened, then smiled, turned, and began to lead me away. I didn’t know where we were headed, but I felt I should trust this man.

We trooped on forever and I didn’t like his quick pace. The day was beautiful but people were wearing thick coats, some even shivering. They gave us curious glances and glares. We finally turned down an alley, then through a door. The thick smell of coffee hit me, as did muffled chatter. People in white clothes and tall hats moved about, taking items in and out of the room. They told each other things that seemed to be important based on the quick responses. Suddenly, the only thing I wanted was one of those steaming rolls. I realized I had been hungry when my stomach had talked to me. I began to feel lightheaded. The man pulled me into an office. He left. Tears began to roll down my cheeks. Where did he go? Why did he leave me? Why did he leave me? Why am I so hungry?

All of a sudden, I was sucking a sweet substance from a tall paper cup. The man tied an apron around my body, covering my bare legs. He handed me a deformed roll which I found to be warm and sugary. I felt quite nice inside until a throbbing pain stabbed into my brain. It continued to pulse. I had a major headache. I couldn’t help but sit in the desk chair and lay my head on the desk.

A warm hand was rubbing my shoulder. I barely had the will to open my weary eyes. Where was I? A quick throb thanks to my headache reminded me of all that had happened. I peered up at… my mom. My mom! She had angry, yet teary eyes. Then, I had wet eyes too. I stood shakily and gave her a hug. “Oh, sweety, I guess sixteen is still too young for a party,” her soothing voice whispered. I nodded into her shoulder. We walked out through the chilly afternoon air. Stepping into the safety of the car, tears still rolling down my face, I wondered, just what did I do at that party?