Crystal Purple. It either sounds like someone's name or a typo. Maybe both. It's actually a little, hole-in-the-wall electronics shop in some shopping mall. If this mall were a map of the world; the big jewellery store at the end (Goulding) would be Florida, the camera place (Jennifer's) would be Puerto Rico, and the newsstand would be Bermuda; meaning Crystal Purple is pretty much the Bermuda Triangle (in case I was being too subtle, my sense of direction has shit the bed). I do not think that I've ever had my sense of direction really, truly shit the bed like that. Missed a few turns, yes (c'mon, that happens to everybody); but (until now), I've never had my sense of direction just sigh and go home. Ever.

Usually, if I get seriously lost; I get my bearings about ten to twenty minutes later. Not this time. I only remember two landmarks between here and wherever I started (I don't even remember where I started. This is not good. Am I ever screwed.) The only landmarks I do remember are the crosswalk (the one with the big "44" on it) and the newsstand. Other than that, I've got nothing. NOTHING. I slow down and I back-track, and the only things that I can think of are Goulding Jewelers, Jennifer's Photo Supply, news stand, Bermuda triangle, Monster Marbles, and a list of other irrelevant crap. None of that helps, especially the Monster Marbles. Seven, we were supposed to get markers. Markers, Seven; not marbles. Oh, God; that doesn't help at all! I'm lost. I'm not kidding around when I say I'm lost. I am seriously lost. I can't even orient myself enough to mentally process where I am. I can just barely make out where I am. Fact: I am in Crystal Purple. Fact: There are two guys getting in a brawl. Fact: Both of the fighters are big-time out of shape. Another Fact: Glasses Guy gave his "friend" Dapper Dan an atomic wedgie. Yet another Fact: I'm surprised how easily a nine foot tall monster such as myself can hide in here. Sadly, none of the above facts give me anything resembling a clue as to what my relative position happens to be. I am legitimately lost in the mall.

The words "lost in the mall" sound like the start to some poor sap's false memory, but it's not false and it's not a memory because it's happening right now. I really am so disoriented that it's not even funny. I seriously hope I lost them. If I didn't, then I'm in real trouble. I probably didn't lose them; I just heard Glasses Guy say, "Where the hell is she?!" Please, I silently beg through tears, please leave. I don't want anybody to know that I'm here. I don't know if Glasses Guy is talking about me or what; but if he is, I am just screwed. Fortunately, for the most part, nobody seems to know I'm here (believe me, hiding in a small place if you're a giant monster with wings is no small feat). This is a good thing. Nobody has to know anything. Nobody has to know that yes; that noise actually me crying, not a dog about to throw up. Nobody has to know I was ever in here, let alone hiding in the back left corner crying into a hankie because I am really screwed right now. Not the two guys that were fighting, not the flummoxed girl that's running around looking for this nonexistent dog that's (not?) about to throw up, not a single person. No on has to know anything about who was where.

I am screwed. Glasses Guy was talking about me. I didn't lose them after all. Leave, get out; you don't know who you're up against. I am in deep shit. Really deep shit. Really, really deep shit. I can't even remember what the circumstances were, but as it sits; I'm being hunted like something that gets hunted by somebody who wants to hunt it. OK, I'm being hunted. I can't even remember how this started, and I can just barely remember the crosswalk and the newsstand.

It's kind of a fact of life that how did they get there? isn't as important thing to ask as how do you get them out?. Usually, if you get lost, you hang around until someone finds you. But, the only people who have any interest in looking for me aren't friendly. In fact, they're the exact opposite of friendly. They hate my furry, feathered, monster guts.

Either people hate me or they just plain don't care.

"Hey, guys, can you stop fighting for one minute and help me look for this dog that's about to throw up?" Those words, for some unknown reason, trigger a fleeting image of hope. Maybe those two guys will finally leave and I will be able to just walk out like nothing ever happened. I hope they do leave, because then I don't have to worry about them anymore. I can just focus on re-orienting myself and going home. It'll be like that time that we had to get Seven new shoes, and Six got lost because she didn't pay any attention whatsoever to Mom's instructions. Yes, she got lost; but it wasn't the end of the world. She came back, Seven got new shoes, and everything was fine. Once Glasses Guy and Dapper Dan leave, I can get out, go home, and things will sort themselves out. Everything goes back to normal.

Uh-uh. Not so fast. Real life doesn't work like that. There's no such thing as "back to normal". Reality isn't simple. Nobody plays by the rules; the only thing you can count on is fooling your enemies. Sometimes, you wind up fooling yourself in the process. Other times, your enemy calls your bluff, like Dapper Dan is doing right now

"Wait, I saw something in back just blink"

"There's she is! Let's get the bitch!"

And, just like that, they've got me. Not only did I get lost myself, I didn't even lose them.

Well, this sucks…