Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be lost? Now, I don't mean like if you're in an office building and you don't know which way it is to the meeting room. I mean you're on some kind of hike or tour and you stray away from the normal path, wander around for a few hours, and look up, only to discover you have no memory or any faint clue as to where you are, or any idea as to how to get back to where you originally started. Have you ever wondered what that would be like? Well, I have. Quite a lot, actually.
The first time I thought about it was when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I was sneaking out of bed to see if I could find cartoons or Blue's Clues on TV. What I found instead was a show called I Shouldn't Be Alive that my father or mother must have been watching and forgot to turn off. It was about a family who was trying to make their way to a funeral for a deceased family member, but somewhere along the way they made a wrong turn and ended up lost for 8 days in Nevada. I probably should have covered my eyes, or, turned and ran when I saw that. But, for some unexplainable reason, I didn't. I just stood there and watched the program.
When it ended, I ran to my room and threw myself under the covers. Understandably, the show frightened me and gave me nightmares for a few days.
After that I thought about what it might be like if something like that happened to me or one of my family members. Lost in the snow or rainforest, or some kind of desert, with no way of knowing where you were, and no one to help you get out. Pretty dark stuff for an 8 to 9 year old to be thinking of, but, I couldn't stop thinking about it. By the time I was 13, I couldn't really go on a car trip without thinking the drivers would make some wrong turn or mistake that would lead to us being lost. Even routine trips to and from school were enough to give me shivers, and long car trips to visit my grandparents two states away made me absolutely hysterical.
One day, my longtime fear of becoming lost, actually became a reality. And, unlike my beliefs, it was not because of a car. It happened on the eve of my father's 45th birthday, when my mother decided to surprise him with a trip to Russia. He had always loved anything having to do with Russia, whether it
was history, weapons, the language, drinks, or it's people. That's probably why he married my mom, a Russian immigrant. I was 15 at the time. When we arrived, one of my dad's first requests was to stop at Pripyat, the city that lay abandoned due to the nuclear meltdown of the 1980's. Of course, I wasn't a fan of the idea, terrified of being lost in the abandoned city. But my dad was excited, so... I figured I could suck it up.
When we arrived at the abandoned city, I immediately felt uneasy. Several buildings were covered in cracks, and were overgrown with vegetation and rusted material. Layers of dirt and filth covered the exterior of the buildings, while unkept vegetation sprang up from the empty sidewalks and streets, and wide open valleys. Another thing that instantly crept me out was how dead silent the town was. There was no wind, no crickets chirping, no birds, nothing.
While we were on the tour, I couldn't help but notice I felt like someone was watching me. The first time I had the feeling, it was just because my older sister was messing with me. But as the tour continued, I still felt that feeling of being watched, even though my sister was now ahead of me, and looking at old buildings and destroyed framework. No matter how fast I turned around to look, I could never see anyone, or anything watching me. I felt the urge to just turn and run back the way I came, but for some unfathomable reason, I just couldn't. Instead, I kept going with my family further and further in the city.
At some point, the eerie silence of the city was interrupted when I heard something call out to me. I know it wasn't a member of my family, because, they were all talking with the leader of the tour, not really paying any mind to me. Whoever, or... WHATever was speaking my name was coming from outside of our tour group. I tried voicing this to my parents, but they just thought it was me being paranoid. As I was forced against my will to continue going through the city, the calling of my name grew louder, and louder, until it felt like whoever was
saying it was breathing right down my neck. For some unfathomable, stupid reason, I decided to run away, screaming at the voice to leave me alone. I'm sure at this point my parents were yelling at me to come back, or, chasing after me to get me, but, I just kept going.
