Nothing in my thirty-five years prepared me for this.
"My God, where am I?"
One moment, my arms were full of groceries, the handles of the bags cutting into my palms as I stopped in front of a store window to admire tiny sailor outfits I thought would look adorable on my son. Next, I was in a place so far removed that I might as well call it hell.
Blistering hot winds whipped across my face, tugging at my hair and stinging my skin with grains of sand. Dunes stretched in all directions and the sun was blazing down on my unprepared head.
"The desert? How the hell did I get here?" I was asking these questions but was there anyone to answer, nope. Would that make me stop? Oh heck no. I was in panic mode which means I was now a bit loony.
I turned in a slow circle, clutching my bags tightly, in despair and growing anxiety. There were no landmarks. No buildings. No trees. Not even a single rock to give me direction. Only sand, sun, and silence.
"Oh shit, holy shit!"
In that moment, I knew I was utterly lost.
But let's step back a bit. Let me tell you how my day began, how something like an errand trip turned into a day of terrors.
My name is Mia Christian, and this morning I was doing something as simple as putting myself together to run errands.
I checked the contents of my grey shoulder bag, and there was my purse, phone, my compact umbrella, and a few crumpled receipts, Never mind the other little things we women carry around like a random lip balm and comb. The bag doubled as a knapsack, which worked for my city errands since I never liked carrying handbags. Bills were due, groceries needed topping up, and I was planning to pick up a package that had just arrived at the shipping company I joined a year ago.
Sliding my feet into my scuffed white sneakers, I heard the familiar sound behind me. Looking around I saw my husband Hanes scoop our son Kane into his arms. Kane, barely a year old, had been toddling determinedly toward me down the hallway, his little mouth open wide in a call.
"Mama!" he squealed, reaching out with chubby hands.
I couldn't help but smile. I walked over, kissing his plump cheek, inhaling that faint baby-scent of milk and powder. 'God I love this scent' I thought.
"Mama will be back soon, baby. Stay with Dadda until then, okay?"
But Kane, as if sensing I was about to leave, wasn't about to let me go so easily. His tiny hand snapped out as he grabbed a bundle of my hair. It took both me and Hanes tugging and prying his little fingers to gently to free myself.
"Yikes Cutie take your time with mommy, too rough baby, too rough" I chuckled, smoothing my shoulder-length straight black hair back into place.
I leaned over and gave Hanes a quick kiss.
"Later, hubby."
Hanes hummed. "Hmm. Don't forget to pay the furniture bill first."
"Okay, I won't, cook some curry, I have a craving for that," I said.
"We had curry a day ago!" Hanes protested.
"I don't care I want it!"
Hanes sighed, "Fine but it won't be chicken"
"As long as it's curry" I smiled after getting my way waving as I opened the door and skipped out. One last glance at my little family, Hanes with Kane squirming in his arms before I stepped outside.
Since I don't drive, trips into the city always require either an expensive taxi ride or the metro bus. The bus was cheaper but I had to watch the time or I'd miss it. It arrived on the hour as usual and I hopped in as the doors opened.
"Good morning!" I greeted the driver, a lady in her late sixties whom I traveled with a lot.
"Good morning, dear!" she replied warmly, her voice cheerful as usual.
I swiped my card and slid into a window seat, in the second row, putting my bag on my lap. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my e-book library to find a good book.
"Have you noticed the amount of tremors we've had recently?" the driver started up a conversation with me. It's something she does sometimes when I travel on her bus.
"Yeah there were three last week"
"I swear something big is going to happen, watch"
"It may just be global warming, they will settle down soon" I replied with a nervous chuckle.
She shook her head while controlling the big bus like a small car.
"It's all the nuclear testing these countries are doing, I'm telling you, they're going to cause some serious damage!"
"What can we even do though, it's not like we have a say in what they're doing"
"No but we should at least prepare for the worst, I'm telling you, this will not end well"
She went back to focusing on driving and I continued scanning through my phone trying to put aside what she had said.
Almost too quickly, the bus reached the station in the city. I nodded goodbye to the driver as I disembarked.
Warm air, heavy with a mix of pleasant and unpleasant aromas, rushed to smack me in the face.
"Ah, the joys of the city," I muttered, resigned.
I stopped at the furniture store first. We had bought a few items when Kane was born, including a crib and a changing table. Paying it off in monthly installments was a hassle, but necessary.
The automatic doors whooshed open, and I headed straight to the counter. Slinging my bag around, I dug out my card.
"Paying on Hanes Christian's account, please," I told the cashier.
"Do you know the number?"
"It's… 6389643802."
A few taps, a quick beep of the card machine, and it was done. The receipt was slipped across the counter. Efficient as always.
I wandered briefly through the store afterward, eyeing furniture sets we definitely couldn't afford, but mentally adding them to the wish list. Our finances were tight, paycheck to paycheck. Since Kane's birth, Hanes had insisted I stay home telling me he could handle the bills. He wanted me to rest, to focus on Kane, but in truth, the weight of being financially dependent bothered me.
My mother's weekly calls didn't help. "Time to put Kane in daycare," she would say, "and return to work."
Each conversation left me sliding between guilt and anxiety, the feeling of being worthless circling in my head. Depression was a constant companion.
Still, days like this where I could escape into the city, even for errands, were a breath of fresh air.
Next was the shipping company. The receptionist recognized me as a regular.
"Any package for Mia Wong, please?" I asked, as my maiden name was still on the account.
She smiled and went to get a small box. "Five dollars to clear."
I paid, signed, and clutched the package against my chest feeling all happy inside. I tucked it into my bag, extending the side zipper so it could fit.
Then came the least fun part, the groceries.
"Err, I'm not looking forward to this" I groaned.
The supermarket was crowded. I grabbed a basket and began ticking off items on my phone list, milk for Kane, a few canned goods, and some juice. My arm ached under the basket's weight by the end of picking up what I wanted and the long line to the cashier was nearly unbearable. By the time I paid, the total was ten dollars over budget.
"Why the hell is everything getting so expensive?" I muttered, hearing another person behind me hum in agreement.
Three bulging bags later, I shuffled out, weaving through crowds, swinging my arms, and in my head daring anyone distracted enough to bump into me.
On the way back to the metro, I paused at a storefront filled with baby clothes. A set of tiny sailor tunics in the window.
"Aww, that would look so cute on my baby," I whispered, snapping a photo. A smile crept across my face as I texted Hanes.
Heading back home now hubby!
He replied almost instantly:
Ok, be safe. See you soon.
I lifted my foot to move and suddenly the ground shifted beneath me.
At first, it was a tremor, like the ones we've been having for months but it got worse. It shook so much I fell to my knees. People scattered in panic. Asphalt buckled. Cars swerved and collided in chaotic desperation. Buildings groaned as fissures spiderwebbed across their walls.
"Move!" someone shouted.
I heard a terrible creak above me. I lunged forward instinctively, my bags swinging, just as the awning of the store behind me collapsed with a thunderous crash.
I had no time to breathe before I heard it: a roaring, whooshing sound.
Turning, I saw the earth itself gape open. A massive chasm tore the street apart, and from its depths crawled monstrosities, scaled lizards the size of cars, eyes glowing red, jaws dripping saliva. Seven feet long nightmares on legs.
One broke from the pack, prowling toward me.
I wanted to run but terror locked me in place. My body trembled uselessly as the creature lowered itself, muscles coiling. Then, with frightening speed, it lunged.
I thought it was the end.
But in that instant, a pillar of blinding light erupted around me, swallowing me whole.
When my vision cleared, the city was gone. The monsters were gone.
In their place there was sand.
My hands still clutched my grocery bags, my knapsack heavy on my back. My heart thundered as reality hit me.
I wasn't home.
I wasn't safe.
I was in a desert and I was completely, terrifyingly alone.