There was darkness outside the window. That’s the way it had been for the past hour.

Once the lights from the city faded, and the snacks had been brought about the cabin, the

darkness set in. The man next to me sat watching a movie about sharks, the man next to him

was snoring. I had my face pressed against the window, looking down onto the abyss of the sky

mixing with the ocean. The flight attendants were walking about, yet the lights in the cabin were

dim. A child cried for a moment but was calmed quickly. My eyes were glued to the glass,

looking into the night. A few moments later there was a change in scenery. A small light blinked

in the dark. A lighthouse sitting alone in the dark, surrounded by nothing, just the empty sky, and

the formidable sea.

~.~

The beds were gray and extremely uncomfortable. Sirens had kept us up through the

night. You could hear them loud and clear through the never-able-to-fully-close window that our

hostel so kindly provided us. Still, the morning was kind to us. The sun flickered through the

window, the birds whistled, the wind sang. It was a beautiful Paris morning. We filled it with flaky

croissants, a baguette, and our loud American words as we walked down the pavement. People

stared at Esteban as he devoured his bread, people stared at Beau, Toni and I as we laughed

and cackled loudly. Their eyes bore into us, it was a joy.

The platform was loud and crowded. Anxiety was prickling at everyone’s toes, the

loudspeaker had gone off talking about the protests delaying services. The crowd grew ever

more rambunctious till the squeaking of the train calmed their ever-sparking fury. We entered

and held our breath as the crowd pulsed around us, all aiming for the train. We weren’t on there

very long, only a few stops till we made it to our destination, the Louvre. It was around 10:30, we

were all still tired and had a few hours to kill before we could even get in. Splitting up, Beau,

Esteban, and I went to the love-locked bridge, and Toni went to go find coffee.

The love-locked bridge was nice, though all the locks had been removed. Groups of

tourists lined the edge, and scammers with clipboards lined the tourists. They tried to grab our
attention, but we were too distracted with the buzz of excitement, and the stress of time ticking

down. Our plane was at 8:50, we had to leave for the airport at 4, so we had to leave the Louvre

at 3. Esteban had to leave earlier, he was taking the train. His excitement for that permeated the

group, it was sweet.

Beau, Esteban, and I fought through the clouds of tourists and harpies to get back to the

Louvre, meeting up with Toni at around 12:30. The line to get in was long and winding, but we

couldn’t even wait in them yet. Off to the side we sat. Closing my eyes, I felt the warmth of the

sun, I could feel the tourist excitement coming from every direction. Kids were screeching,

parents hushing them. Dads with fanny packs and khaki shorts, even though it was 45 degrees

out, were getting their families to take pictures. I was excited, and this energy felt nice.

“Guys, I can't find my headphone.”

Having split up, Toni had gone to a coffee shop. There, she listened to music until, at

some point, she took out one earphone and placed it on the table. Finishing her coffee, and not

noticing the lonely earphone, she paid and left to meet up with us. Her earphone was lost to the

streets of Paris.

~.~

Tensions rose on the way to the train station. Toni, Beau, and I were all tired. We were all

ready to get back to London, get back to Oxford, and just crash. Esteban had already left for his

train, and we were starting to run behind schedule. As per usual on this trip, I held my phone

and navigated our way to the train station. It was loud and confusing. People were everywhere

on the streets, and all of us just wanted to get back.

“I think we will all feel better once we get on the plane.”

Arriving at our station was a hassle, but we did it. The clouds were still bustling around

us, and the platform was crowded with tourists. The directory told us that this was the platform,

but the train after next would be ours. Out of sheer panic and anxiety, I walked from Beau and
Toni to the directory, continually checking I understood it. From Toni and Beau to the directory.

Over and over again. Check the screen, walk back, get anxious, check the screen again.

A man, a stranger, tall with long hair, watched me as I did this. On my second trip, he

asked me if I needed help. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, away from the platform, as

if he was waiting for someone to come down.

“I've got it, thank you.” He watched me complete my tiny ritual three more times before

our train pulled in.

As our train screeched into the station, my heart dropped. People were already packed

in there, and 30 more people were about to be squished in. I was about to be squished into a

metal container with 100+ strangers, all who would be touching me. I situated myself; backpack

in my hand, phone in my jacket pocket, and sheer will pumping through my veins.

The doors opened, no one got off. The first of our group to make it onto the train was

Beau, holding on for dear life on the center pole. Next was Toni; she took up residence in the

corner right next to where the doors were. Finally, it was my turn. There was hardly any space,

but a train conductor helped physically shove me onto the train, like I was one last shirt he had

to have in his suitcase.

The doors closed and we were trapped in this tube. No place to go. No way to move.

Just staying in, hoping the next stop would come soon and someone would get off. Still being

anxious, I kept checking we were going the right direction with the small map printed on the

train's walls. I checked I still had my backpack, I still had my purse, and we were going the right

direction. ‘I need to check the directions,’ whispered my brain. ‘It’s too crowded, and you can

hardly move, much less check your phone.’ The other side of my brain whispered back.

Finally, the first stop came and some people got off. I clung to a handrail on the tube in

hopes I wouldn’t be pushed off. Eventually, the eruption of people stopped and the doors closed

again. Finally, there was room to breathe. The train started moving again and I settled next to
the wall, thanking the universe there weren't as many people. A few seconds passed, and I

remembered my want to look at the directions.

I first checked my left jacket pocket - empty. My right jacket pocket - empty again. My

jeans, my bag, my right pocket, left pocket - all empty.

“I don't have my phone.”

Beau then checked my left jacket pocket, my right jacket pocket, my bag - all empty. I

checked again, left, right, bag, bag, right, left. Nothing.

“I don't have my phone.”

Even though the train wasn't as crowded, I felt like I was being pressed down on all

sides. The world tunneled, and my breath had to fight to get out. Staring at the wall, I was

fighting tears. I was fighting the background noise. I was trying not to die.

Beau and Toni were making arrangements, getting directions, trying to do what was

supposed to be my job until I became a burden. Another stop passed, and more people stepped

off, and I just couldn't stop my eyes. The tears wouldn't stop coming. No matter how many

breaths I took or how many grounding techniques I used, I couldn't stop. The one thing that did

stop were the people's eyes. No one looked at me. No one bumped me. No one stared.

The plane ride back was quiet and dark, with cramped spaces and hardly any room to

breathe. No lights in the dark sea, except for the one lone lighthouse surrounded by nothing.

And no one looked at me.