Where Am I?

Chapter 2 - Am I in Paris?

In the blink of an eye, I felt myself sitting on a smooth floor. Timidly, I opened my left eye to take a look what was surrounding me. I was encircled by women and little children shopping in a local market.

Which local market?

I quickly stood up, rubbed the dirt off my bottom, before all the crowd noticed me.

When I shook all the dirt off my clothes, I gazed up and saw, a several yards away from me, the Eiffel tower being built.

Seeing the Eiffel Tower meant that I was not in Georgia; the box landed me in Paris, the city of light and love.

Oh, that's how it looks when it's half assembled.

It seemed so strange observing the Eiffel Tower not finished yet. To me, it didn't look like the Eiffel Tower we usually see. The metal was a reddish-brown color, contrary to today which is a brown, iron color.

I kept admiring the structure. The workers probably took some days off because there was no construction happening.

People were happily walking with their families in the touristic city. The roads contained hundreds of men and children selling or going to work. Some were on their on their automobiles whilst others were using carriages. Females were wearing fancy dresses and hats. Like in Cambridge, men were wearing suits.

I sensed an outstanding smell from a local bakery. The odors of the fresh gold baguette made my heart melt. I could see joyful couples and family eating their breakfast. On the counter, patisseries and all the different kinds of bread you would imagine were set delicately.

I wish I could get a bite. My stomach begged me to grab something. Unfortunately, I had nothing in terms of value in my pockets. If I stole something, people would think I was a criminal and I didn't want to be known as one.

With misery and unhappiness, I walked past the bakery to find somewhere to sit.

I forgot I was stranded in the late 1800s with people who should be dead in my time. With the beautiful tower in front of me, I stopped thinking about my current struggle.

Why am I in another country around the 1800s? I don't even know how to speak the language. That wooden coffer didn't place me in the right place. I was stuck in Paris without nothing and nobody.

Once again, I had to find that evil box and this time it had to set me in my house because I missed family. I'm defiantly sure they're worried. It's my fault; I shouldn't have touched that unpleasant box. That's why my brother Luke tried to drag me out of the garage. Before, in my garage, I was haunted by ghosts and spirits. Now, I'm abandoned in the past.

Why me?

As I mentioned, I hate history. I don't appreciate it. So why does somebody or something want to leave me in the past, where all the history occurred? I for sure wasn't born with luck.

I missed my friends. My family needed me. They cared about me; that's why they told me not to enter. I was so selfish. I should've listened. They cared about me and I was supposed to stay with them.

I found a bench facing the Eiffel tower and cried my eyes out. I knew that wouldn't help, but I didn't know what to do. I crossed my legs and placed my thin hands on my sensitive face. I didn't want anybody to see me cry. My personality was too weak to tolerate this.

Dear mysterious box, why couldn't you have chosen somebody else, rather than me? I'm sure somebody else was willing to visit the past and would appreciate it, unlike me.

Tears kept strolling down my cheeks for several minutes. It couldn't stop. The thought of being in Paris, a city and language I didn't know and had never even visited, in the 1800s made me terrified. I hadn't eaten for I don't even know how many hours. I was starving. I needed a nap and some new clothes. While looking down, I still had my pajama shorts on me.