Royal Disaster

the disastrous tram ride

The last time I was left alone without really knowing anything was when I was twelve. I had never been alone before. My parents usually had a housekeeper at home or some sort of adult watching over me so that I wasn't left unsupervised. And they never left without telling me.

At least, not before then.

And Arthur leaving, especially with today's major progress in being civilized acquaintances, had me reliving a fraction of what I felt then. Throughout the next twenty minutes that I waited, I had a hand over my chest, trying to subdue my growing panic when every time I turned to look for him, he was nowhere in sight.

When I got to the part of the line where they were entering and dividing people up into groups, I asked the attendant if there was some way I could move out of the line. He was understanding enough, flashing me a cute smiling before calling for someone to take his place so he could escort me through a shortcut.

He led me through the entrance, taking me through back routes with a hand on the small of my back. I would've been scared, but he seemed decent enough. None of his colleagues didn't seem to mind him, giving him respectful nods as we went passed them, but I still held my breath until I was outside.

"Do you need any other help after this?" Dave asked me, a bit of concern in his tone as he held the door open.

I took in a deep breath, pushing out the air from my lungs. It relieved some of the pressure that was constricting my lungs. After several shuddering breaths, I returned his smile, shaking my head as I, once again, scanned the vicinity.

"I'm good," I told him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm, "but thank you so much for the help. I-I hope I didn't bother you too much."

He shook his head, waving his hand. "Nah, actually, you saved me from another monotone day." Checking back in, he ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure you don't need to call someone?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," I said, my eyes roaming the crowds, but I was only half certain of my next words, "he'll be back."

He nodded.

"Well, I better go," I gestured over my shoulder with my head, stepping back. "Maybe, I'll see you again."

"You, too."

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, wishing that we hadn't gone into the fountains so that my phone would work. It was around three in the afternoon and the sun was beating down on everyone. I began to regret, not for the first time today, wearing jeans instead of shorts.

Taking another deep breath, I gently stepped out of the shadows and searched for the nearest ice cream station. There was one just a little ways away by the escalator, but that was fruit flavored. I needed something sweeter.

I didn't spare the Kwik-E-Mart a glance, not feeling up to a giant donut at the moment. Luckily, I didn't have to walk far before I found an ice cream booth with chocolate ice cream. Once I had it in hand, I walked back to the Simpson's ride.

I wasn't a child anymore, but I knew the rules. I had to stay where they left me, and this applied even more considering neither of us had out phones. Finding a seat under some shade, I lapped up my ice cream, gradually feeling my panic diminish.

But the feeling that left was immediately replaced with a simmering anger. My blood began to boil, my head tightening as my teeth gnashed together violently. People passing me by shot me wary looks, escorting their children away from me, but I couldn't care less about the fact that I was scaring anyone. I was pissed off, raging mad, ready to explode, and it was, once again, all because of him.