Thirty : Trash & Treasure
There was a map on one of the walls that I walked past. It pin pointed the current location and I was almost tempted to tear my hair out when I noticed that this Kyrgyzstan was close to Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and China. And thousands of miles away from the United States of America.
I am really stranded.
And I can’t even say the name of the country for God’s sake!
No one here at the airport speaks English or speaks terribly mediocre English. The problem was obviously them and me. I am terrible at decoding accents. And everyone here speaks with a thick accent of some sorts, making English sound like a foreign language to me.
Has anyone ever had this happen to them?
It’s kind of like when Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker first started filming together.
I don’t understand a single word that’s coming out of these people’s mouths.
I’ve thought about contacting the authorities or police but the thought of bringing attention to myself is off putting. Especially because I was afraid that the government would come for me if that was the case. And who knows what could happen if I was collected by the government facility of science and research again.
I tried to look for American passengers but everyone that I met always shook their head at me because they didn’t know English or was rushing to catch their next flight.
Previously when I still smelled and looked kind of disgusting, everyone opted to migrate to the other gates to avoid being in close contact with me. At least they didn’t avoid me like they did before.
That just means that I have a better chance at finding someone to borrow a phone or get some help from. Most of them paid no attention to me and instead opted to go around, or avoid me in general, in their rush to look for their gates or flights.
I’m sure that I don’t look half as bad as I did in the beginning. Although, my wrinkled clothing and crazy looking hair probably scared them at the first glance.
I don’t know.
But there’s got to be one kind-hearted person out there, right? Right.
Gradually, my time ran down before I realized it. The clock showed that it was past midnight and the people in the airport had dwindled down to almost no one. It became rather ghostly in my area, meaning that there were no flights coming in from the United States. At least not for another day or so.
Other than my current predicament in looking for someone who spoke English, there was another problem at hand.
I am starving.
Hangry like those snicker’s commercials about not being yourself when you are hungry.
From all the traveling, I gathered that I must have been left unfed for 3+ days.
This explains the reason why I feel so lightheaded and short of breath.
The little food shops around had already closed when I was done cleaning myself in the bathroom. My stomach was growling like a wild animal so, in desperate measures, I ended up going through the trash for left overs.
I have never been more humiliated and embarrassed in my life. My pride made me suck up the tears before they could fall. And I held my head high, trying to look for a way out of this.
But I have never eaten any stranger’s left overs before and it almost made me cry in frustration. I guess I was living a really spoiled life before, with everything I needed in hand’s reach. There were less fortunate people in the world that have to do this on a daily basis, so why couldn’t I?
And suddenly, I was reminded of the saying “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”. Albeit, in a more sickening way.
If I don’t eat then I won’t survive. And if I don’t survive, I will just make Zanthos’ wish come true.
And so, I ended up pep talking myself into eating a cold and slightly stale leftover of a hamburger that someone didn’t finish. Other than that, I found a half eaten bag of chips and half of a bagel probably from this morning. I couldn’t find anything else that seemed slightly edible.
I hope I don’t get anything strange from this.
To be honest, this was the most saddest situation that I have ever been put through. And I doubt I would last very long like this.
After almost 6-8 hours of trying to sleep to conserve energy, one of the airport security had actually come up to me and asked me about my situation. The male was in his 40-50′s and his English was rather broken. He was pretty nice and had gone off to find this woman who worked in one of the food shops that opened.
The lady spoke somewhat-fluent English and was a really nice person. She was very understanding through out the whole thing and even tried to comfort me. In the end, the security guard let me borrow his phone to call to the United States and the first person I called was my grandmother.
“Hello? Hello? Is this another prank call?” A masculine voice that I didn’t recognize came through the speaker and I felt as if I had been slapped in the face.
I totally forgot that my grandma passed away almost 8 months ago.
In my head, she was still alive. She would always be alive to me.
“Sorry. I have the wrong number,” I quickly replied into the phone and gave the security guard, who had let me borrow the phone, a pleading look.
Then, I wracked my brain for people to call since my options were kind of limited. I could only think of my sister, whom I never mention about, and my next door neighbor. I sincerely hoped that one of them would pick up.
My younger sister didn’t pick up, like I expected. And my neighbor, who has been living next to me and my grandma for almost 15 years, had picked up.
The lady never had anything to do other than gossip all day and spread rumors about everyone in the neighborhood. I was included because, to her, I was a useless spinster who was hellishly ugly and will probably never, ever, get married.
She always berated me for my lack of love interests and gave me trouble for never watering my grass, or if the leaves on my tree went into her yard. I mean, that’s what trees do though and it’s not like I can control the wind.
Other than that, she always wanted to talk about everyone’s business. And by talk, I mean 2-4 hours of pure torture. Nobody has the time for that.
Doesn’t she sound like a handful of sunshine? Wait until you actually meet the bitter old lady.
When she finally picked up, I could hear the loud screeching of her 10+ cats through the phone like the scratching of nails along a chalk board. Then, I proceeded to tell her my current situation, leaving out unnecessary information and hoping that she would help me.
“I don’t know about this, Emira. It sounds shady what you’re having me do,” my next door neighbor, Lou, said through the phone.
At first, she was apprehensive when I told her I needed her to go into my house and send me my passport, through the mail, to the kind security guard who was helping me. Thankfully, I decided to make a passport in case I have to leave the country due to my past.
“I’m sure it’s not something big. I have a spare key underneath of the flower pot in the front and the passport is in my room in the night stand. First drawer. It won’t take you but a couple of minutes,” I said in detail.
I was kind of apprehensive to ask her for help, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“It’s time I’m wasting for this. My cats will go nuts, Emira. You know how Vanilla and Kale can’t live without me for even 1 second.” She tried to decline and I was tempted to roll my eyes at her excuse.
I bet her cats would be throwing a house party without her. That, or run while they can before she gets back.
Those poor cats.
“I’ll pay you back for this, Lou. I’ll pay you for the express shipping fee and for the help,” I said.
In the end, I had to bribe her with money before she actually agreed to help.
This was pretty typical. The lady never did anything for free unless she had something to benefit from it.
After that was done, I turned on the wi-fi on the phone, went looking for an airline that accepted payment through Paypal, and managed to find one before purchasing an airplane ticket to the United States. It would have been a little easier if I knew the numbers of my credit card.
Which makes me wonder, does anyone really?
I waited at the airport for almost 3 days before the passport came, since I told Lou to send it as fast as she could. Thank goodness that she followed my instructions.
As for food, the nice lady at the food stall always gave me the items that they didn’t sale at the end of the day. If it wasn’t for her and the security guard, I doubted I would still be alive. So in order to thank them, I created Paypal accounts for them and sent some money from my account to theirs.
And almost a week later, I finally stepped foot back in America and inside of the house that my grandma had left me. I almost kissed the dirt in happiness when I was back in my sanctuary, the place I thought I would never see again.
My mood had changed drastically by now when I paid the water and electric bill over the phone since it had been cut off due to inactivity of payments. I now had everything I needed at my finger tips and I appreciated everything much more than I did before.
Oddly, I am actually kind of thankful that Zanthos hadn’t decided to hand me off to some other Alpha to breed more pups. That would have ended rather badly.
The first thing I did was go through my cabinets and made myself some noodles while waiting for the utility men to finish turning on the water outside.
Everything in the fridge was disgusting. There was mold all inside of it because the electricity had been turned off these past few months.
I didn’t want to clean it, so I decided to eat my noodles while watching outside the front window.
The utility men had finished turning on the water now and as they climbed back into their vehicles to leave, I suddenly noticed a black van across the street that I had never seen before.
Although it was a red flag, the urge to take a shower was too strong. I ended up shrugging it off for now and went to take a bath, scrubbing until my skin was raw. Even then, I still felt dirty.
When I looked out the front again, the van was still there and the windows were rolled down. And from the window, I saw a male turn and look towards my house.
Then, it clicked.
I was being monitored.
For sure, I knew it had to be the government.
They probably knew of my arrival the moment the plane landed from Kyrgyzstan.
I knew I locked all the doors already, but I quickly went around and made sure both doors were secured before turning off the lights.
I was kind of scared to leave the house now because who knows what they might do. They obviously know that I had been kidnapped by the werewolves and now returned. I was afraid that they are going to take me back to the government facility to get information out of me for my experience with the werewolves.
Truthfully, I was terrified of the thought of them finding out that I was a Breeder. Because I knew that I would be forced to become a specimen for their experimenting, just like I had experimented on the werewolves’ blood and samples.
If that did happen, I would have no one to blame but myself. I put myself into this situation and did a lot of things that I am not proud of.
I admit that.
But I’m just curious as to why they didn’t just take me when I stepped off of the airplane.
Why stalk outside of my house waiting like this? Where they waiting to see if I kept any contact with the werewolves or something?
I’m not too sure.
And if it really happened, it would be Karma giving me what I deserved.