I panicked. A lot. Where on earth did my dad go? What just happened? How did he disappear so quickly? How could I not see him leave after just one second of distraction? So many questions, and not one answer... And of course, what was that thing he gave me?!

"Calm down, Phineas", I said to myself as I finally managed to stay in one place in the middle of Morgan Avenue, looking extremely stupid. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and opened them. I still had some money left with me.

"Wait a second," a new thought arose inside my mind, "what if he just saw those people from whom he took this thing? And so, he ran away... They could be anywhere right now..."

I looked around, but unlike just a few minutes earlier, I carefully observed every single person who passed by me. Really carefully. But none of them looked in any way more intriguing than anyone else; all of them were in blue, white or black coats, some of them wearing hats and a few even reading newspapers. No one seemed at all suspicious nor friendly.

I thought about those weird people again and got scared. This was a serious issue, you know. My dad stole something completely weird, strange, artificial, and gave it to me, told me he took it from some people and then ran away! I mean, what was all that? What was I supposed to do with this?! Did those "people" find out? Are they really after my dad? Are they after me?

I turned left. And I walked as fast as possible. Not ran, just walked real fast. At that moment, I wasn't really sure why I was doing it. Still holding that weird thing tightly in my pocket and my heart beating rapidly, I was still careful about every single person who would pass by me. I crashed with too many of them in the process.

When I got to the first big intersection, I looked left and right, but didn't cross the road. I turned back to see if anyone was following me. In meanwhile, wind began blowing. More heavily than I had ever felt it in my life. It was literally pushing me to my left. I resisted poorly, but the thing in my pocket was still safe.

Then - I fell down some stairs. Almost broke my nose, hit my knee really hard and almost lost a finger, but I was alright. For a second, I was lying on the floor, but I got up to not look like a dork. I glanced around. Opposed to the stairs were three ticket booths, left and right to them were some kind of passages, painted in blue. People were constantly going in and out of them. On one side of the stairs was a small store, probably for food and all that, and right next to me was a toilet.

"Oh," I said out loud, "it's a subway station." But luckily, no one heard me. The thing, which was accidentally dropped out from my pocket, I picked up and put it back in.

And then suddenly, a hand grabbed my coat and I found myself in the aforementioned toilet. I fell on my butt and felt pain. "Ouch!" I shouted.

I looked around to see who dragged me into the toilet, but no one was there. The next moment, there was! In front of me was standing a bald man with a calm face, dressed in something ancient, I guess... I had no idea who he was, but he was looking at me in a far too friendly way.

"Are you alright?" the man asked, with an Indian accent!

And I didn't quite know if I was doing alright. My girlfriend had died; my dad, whom I only knew for two days, had disappeared one day after Christmas, and I myself just got dragged into a toilet by an Indian guy.

"Yeah..." I lied to him.

"I reckon you're wondering why I dragged you to a toilet in a subway station", said the man, being completely and utterly right. "Well, long story short," he finished what he wanted to say, "I made that thing you're holding in your hand."