When I'm Lost, They're Lost Too

You know that feeling when you got lost in a mirror maze? Maybe you don't. Maybe I'm just claustrophobic. Hours of head-bumping onto mirrors like a fool might be sufficient to both cause head injury and trauma, like mental trauma.

I suppose I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. I was the one wandering off

into random attractions. Dad would always shout my name at the top of his lungs

whereas mum would start to pant heavily. Honestly I didn't think about the

amount of frustration I had inflicted on them until now.

Overly restrictive and cautious wasn’t a life that screams freedom. I was reckless and disobedient because I didn’t want to live a life controlled by them like a puppet. Or maybe this is what they call puberty?

Anyway

getting lost at the carnival is one thing but now all I can see are eyes filled

with regret staring back at me at every corner. Pale lips, ruffled hair, mini

black jacket and ripped jeans. I look like I could audition for a biker gang.

Thud! Something had just bumped onto the mirror next to me. Footsteps and murmurs startled me from every direction. A reflection of myself was suddenly companied by a man with hood. His scowl faded into a hollow smile – lips stretched across his cheeks. “Hello little boy.” He menacingly greeted me.

If there’s anything my parents had reminded me often over and over again was to never talk to strangers. I stepped back as he leaned closer, he reeked the same stench as my dad after a night out with his friends. I could always recognize it since he hugs be to sleep every night with that growingly bearable odor.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” Such a brilliant thing to say since it contradicts myself. His smile grew wider as he slightly wobbled towards me. He crouched down to my height, droopy eyes and scars all over his face. Not someone I think I would be friends with.

“Oh that’s right little boy, but I ain’t no stranger. I’m just a good man tryin to help a lil boy lost in a maze. How’s that? Wanna come with me?”

Tempting. I wanted to refuse but, what choice do I have, he’s waiting for my answer. So I took a good look and said, “okay” innocently. He quickly got up and offered his hand, but I wasn’t so keen on holding to a big sweaty smelly hand. He didn’t like it so he just grabbed on to me.

We walked a bit navigating the maze, bumping here and there. Eventually I could hear noises coming from outside. Soon after, a ray of light reflected off one of the mirror. “That’s our way out.” He said.

I was hesitant to ask for more help, but give the amount of time I had spent away from my parents. I could only imagine how stressed out they would be away from me.

I looked up towards the hooded man, “Have you seen my mum or dad?” I asked.

“Your parents? Oh yeah, you want me to take you to them?”

“Yes please.”

It was strange how his smile momentarily faded when I asked but then it returned even wider than before. I didn’t think it was even possible someone could be smiling that big. His eyebrows raised and eyes rolled, he was thinking about something that’s definite.

We walked a bit further and further away from the crowd. I heard sirens wailing from a distance but not enough to see what made it. We stopped behind a large hollow tree that stood behind the circus tent. No one was around but the hooded man and me. I began to question whether or not I could really trust him and somehow my eyes brimmed with tears.

“Man up!” I reminded myself. Dad would always say that when I’m about to burst into tears. Adults are weird, why is it when their kids are about to cry, some of them actually try to make it worse by yelling at them?

The hooded man was agitated. “Shhh.” He shushed. “Don’t shout kid.” His expression became distraught and sweat started to stream down his face.

“Is it the sirens? I don’t like loud noises too.”

He clenched onto my cheek and covered my mouth. “Shhh kid!” Alright, I’m not taking a sweaty palm on face without giving this guy a bite.

AND A CHOMP!

“OUCH!” He screamed. Moments after, people grew suspicious and started drawing in. I saw the police cautiously approaching us with their guns tucked in the pocket of their waist. The hooded man looked to his left, he looked to his right. We were surrounded in a matter of seconds.

Ugh, he’s drenched in sweat. His movements are erratic. “That’s it.” He jumped and let’s go of me – rushing into some bushes nearby. A lady police noticed a running man rustling the bushes and decided to pursue him while a guy police stood by my side and knelt down one leg.

“You okay son?” He asked gently, carefully examining my face, my neck and my hands.

“I’m okay sir.”

“Your parents are worried sick about you. They’re waiting at the entrance.”

This person is different from the hooded man. His smile felt genuine and his voice was soft and warm. I wasn’t as hesitant as I was with the hooded man, unknowingly lent my hand to him. He held it tight, “it’s gonna be alright.”

I saw my parents after a short walk. Mum and dad groveling on the ground begging the police to find me. “Please find my son, I beg you.” They cried.

I felt bad. I felt terrible.

“There they are; they’ve been looking for you.”

Despite my overwhelming joy to see their faces again, I was afraid to show myself after the trouble I had caused. What if they’re angry at me or disown me for traumatizing them like this. I clenched the policeman’s hand tighter and paused. He picked up my fear and knelt down again.

He took off his cap and smiled. “Listen, your parents love you, they’re not gonna be angry at you. You’re a brave kid.”

And that was all I need. I walked slowly towards my mum and dad. The moment they noticed me, their sadness fade and their frowns turned around. “Danny?” they sobbed, wiping off the tears from their cheeks.

My guilt was heavy, but they ran towards me with open arms. It felt warm. “I’m sorry mum… dad…” but they didn’t seem to care about it right now.

Over the street, the hooded man was already apprehended and pushed onto the police car. They shoved him in the back seat and locked it before taking off probably to the police station.

I was just happy to be reunited with my mum and dad. They held me tightly for a while. Crowds of people begin to disperse as the carnival came to a close.

But we stayed a bit.

“I won’t walk on my own again… I’m sorry.” I apologized wholeheartedly. They responded with a kiss on my forehead and said, “as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

Perhaps I have taken their caution for granted. Shouldn’t have run off on my own like that. No one should. My parent looked out for me all this time with caution and responsibility, I should not forget their love and care.