2. Lost & Found

I opened my eyes and blinked twice, but there was no hint of darkness. Instead, the sun shone too brightly to be in a misty spring evening. I wanted to read that line again just to make sure I didn't misread a word. But the album was gone, or I should say everything was gone. I was standing on a street, a fairly busy street that I didn't know. I looked around desperately to search for shops or signs that I could recognise.

Nothing.

I was sweating helplessly, out of nowhere, with nothing but goose bumps rolling down my spine.

Getting lost didn't cause me to feel petrified but the pedestrians did. Everyone had wild hair. Women either wore oversized shirts, sweaters or crazy puff skirts and leg warmers with heavy makeup. Am I on a movie set portraying the 80's? I didn't see any cameras around and people passing by were staring at me like I was a weirdo. I couldn't move an inch but something at the street corner caught my attention: a guidepost. 62nd Avenue. Oh my. That's my home address!

"Newspaper?" an old man sitting next to his little store asked inquiringly.

I jumped a little, not noticing I had stood next to his store for minutes. I turned towards him and searched for some explanations: Mulroney visited Orphanage, 23rd July, 1985.

"This is July 23rd, 1985?" I questioned, calculating the probability of me being chosen to be on a reality game show. The chance was slim.

"Of course, miss, are you going to buy one?" he urged, annoyed.

"Oh, hmm, yea," I grabbed a penny from my pocket and paid for the newspaper before the old man complained again.

I paced along the street, not realising a dark shade was approaching until I heard the sound of anxious strides. A man crushed into me. We both fell. He was up on his feet in two seconds and dashed for his like. Dying on the ground was a blue purse.

"STOP! Stop that man," a sharp yell followed his faltering steps, "That's my purse!" The stride was more rapid this time.

"I guess this is yours, miss?" I interrupted when she ran past me.

The young girl paused and turned to me, "Oh, oh. Thanks, thank you so much," she rejoiced, "Nice to meet you, my name's Elisa." She was only a teenager, her features less prominent but still distinguishable. Her cheekbone less bold and jaws not as lean. Her auburn brown hair tied into a ponytail.

Oh my, could this be real? Hello, Mum. "Hi, hmm, I'm Amber."

"Well, Amber, I should thank you properly. Are you heading somewhere? Would you like to join me for lunch at home?" Her grin was so genuine and the invitation was especially tempting, "hmm, we don't have a fine menu but you are welcome," she added.

"Sure, Iā€¦have nowhere to go," How true this is. My family seems to be the only refuge in this old world.

"Let's go then, I live on the 73rd with my parent and younger sister and brother. You will love them, they are all very friendly." I smiled and nodded but was barely listening; my mind was too occupied as I equipped myself with logical reasons that explain my lack of friends and family. I hoped they would allow me to stay with them, fingers crossed.

According to family records, Amber, who was very likely to be me, stayed with the Wrights in 1985. Amber was 17, which once again convinced me of her identity. She was enjoying her gap year. Okay, a deferred year before college was a fairly sound motive.

Author's note:

Thank you. & Again, reviews are my motivations!