An incredibly loud noise, like that of a prop plane, filled the air and woke me up. I was afraid to get up and look out the window because it sounded so close.

I found I was in a dorm room shared with a male roommate. Although it was the middle of the night and I was very tired, there was something we had to see. My brother came along, too.

We found a mobile theater that at first I thought was PuppetBike, but it was an Italian imitation. We stayed a while watching this bright spot on a dark street, where everyone else was slumbering during these wee hours of the morning. Suddenly, they left so abruptly that I could not keep up with them, and to my shock the car departed without me. There I was, alone in a residential neighborhood, with no money or mobile phone and wearing only pajamas.

I was nearly petrified. I knew the police, could I find them, would scoff at me. Finally, after tired, panicked rambling, still stunned with disbelief, I came upon a diner, told the owner my story, and asked to use the phone. She seemed jaded, nonplussed, and reluctant to let me. I don’t remember making the call.

By the time my roommate and brother arrived, I was nearly hysterical with anger and fear. I berated them the whole back, going on about how could they have not noticed I was missing. Not seeing the problem, they ignored me and chatted with each other.