A rather heavyset young man in his early twenties was just beginning to regain consciousness from a nap at the city's bus terminal. After having been at college for hours, he had been relived to be on his way home.

Alas, he was not where he was before, this fact became rather obvious when he slapped a hand into a puddle of cold, oily water on the concrete ground. The shock of this sudden cold to his system rudely propelling him into a quick awakening.

In reflex, he slapped his now wet hand onto his scrunched-up expression, causing him to smudge his black-rimmed glasses and having him spit and splutter in disgust.

It had come to him that he was on the cold concrete, compared to the air-conditioned interior of the restaurant he usually got a quick lunch at. Now lightly thrashing about, he bumped his hand against the side of a dumpster and only just managed to cut off a loud curse.

"Ffff- God in heaven, argh! I can't believe i smashed my own damned hand!"

Obviously, he wasn't very happy. And so, with several mutterings of dark nature, he hauled himself to his feet. He quickly wiped his hands on his large black woolen greatcoat, a gift for his birthday. He snatched a cloth from his deep pockets and quickly wiped his glasses.

After replacing said glasses on his nose, he gave several blinks as his eyes adjusted. Adjusted that is, to the dirty alleyway he found himself in. He stood there for several long moments, attempting to comprehend what had happened to him.

His first thought, was that he had been robbed and left aside. His expression twisted, and he became red with rage. But, as another thought reared it's head, he hissed and forced himself to calm. Why would he have been robbed? Had he been carried out while sleeping from a restaurant of busy people? That was idiotic!

After a quick check of his pockets, he found nothing missing. Everything he took was there. His State ID, his Campus ID, his phone (which he had switched off to save power), about six dollars and two more in change, and finally; His precious Playstation Portable, which along with it's charger, he used to alleviate the constant menace of boredom.

Now he was even more confused, if he hadn't been robbed or kidnapped in any way, why was he here? How did he get here? And so, with not too little anxiety and quite a bit of frustration at his current complication, he resolved to find out just what the hell was going on.

And so, wiping down his coat, he stepped to the mouth of the alley and quickly peeked out.

Of course, looking to see large crowds of pedestrians of various animal species small and tall did not to wonders for his mental state.

As he stumbled back into the alley, his back hit the wall and he slid down. Now not in too dissimilar a position he was not five minutes ago, he clasped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

After several minutes of introspection, he swallowed hard, and said;

"I'm certainly far from home."

And so his head fell into his hands. And he wondered on his next course of action. Panicking would do no good, afterall.