Already Gone

Control

   First described by Walter Bradford Cannon, the fight-or-flight theory is a reaction that happens in response to when the mind recognizes a harmful event or threat to survival.

It's a defence reaction.

   The term itself, "fight-or-flight" depicts the choices our ancient ancestors had to make. Either they fought, or they fled.

Either we fight, or we flee.

   Scientifically speaking, in response to the stress that causes "fight-or-flight", a sudden release of hormones activates our body's sympathetic nervous system which then stimulates the adrenal glands. They then release catecholamines such as adrenaline and noradrenaline.

   Every situation is different, so there is no right answer to "fight-or-flight". Sometimes it's better to stay and face the problem, other times it's easier to just run away from it.

And that's what I did.

   That's how I found myself in Seattle, Washington. Running away was easier than staying to face my problem.

Plural.

Problems.

I definitely had more than one.

   Maybe my problem was that I kept running and running so the problems just kept mounting up. I was good at it though, the whole running away part. I had been doing it my whole life.

   It seemed like with running, you were always in control. In control of where you'd go next. That's what I told myself anyway, but it wasn't true. 

You are never in as much control as it may seem.

"One bus ticket to Olympic Sculpture Park please," I said and fumbled with my backpack as I tried to get out the money to pay for the ticket, "Or the bus that can get me closest to it."

   I was worried the man behind the glass would be suspicious of me but he didn't even bat an eye as he took my money in exchange for a flimsy little slip of paper.

"Bus 24 should be here in about five minutes," He told me, "It should come right over there."

   I quickly thanked him before hurrying off to the bus stop where there were already a few people waiting. I kept my eyes trained on the ground, wanting to avoid eye contact at all costs. Even as a young child, I was told I had very expressive eyes, and that always, unfortunately, worked to my disadvantage.

   It wasn't long before Bus 24 arrived and I scurried on, making sure I never looked anyone in the eyes in the process. I handed the bus driver my ticket and hurried to the back of the bus.

   With my backpack settled on my lap, I turned my gaze to focus on the scenery outside the window. It was a rather gloomy day. It wasn't raining but the clouds were dark and angry. I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining now. 

   I knew how the deception of mind worked. Far too well, actually. Right now, my mind was telling me that it was working. That I had run far ahead of my problems and that they were still trailing behind. 

That everything was under control. 

   Deep down, I knew none of that was true. I knew that. But it was nice to have a few moments where all of that could be true, though I knew it was dangerous to think like that. I had to be on my guard at all times.

   Taking a deep breath, I tore my eyes away from the window and looked around the bus. Besides me and the bus driver, there was also a woman, probably in her late thirties, and an elderly man on the bus. There was also a man with a little kid who seemed to be his son who was probably around five or six.

   All of them were sitting on the left side of the bus, unlike me, oddly reminding me how it was just me now. The man's son saw that I was staring at him and offered me a wide smile.

Much to my surprise, I smiled back. It wasn't a forced smile either, though that was something I had been doing quite often lately.

   Normally, I wouldn't do such a thing but maybe it was because he reminded me of Stella in the way that he smiled at me.

   Sweet and gentle Stella. The Stella who wouldn't kill spiders because that was just how big her heart was.

   The boy's hair was tousled and he wore a light blue shirt and track shorts. He was had two of those tiny hot wheels cars that you could sometimes see in grocery stores and was rolling them around on the seat.

   He probably didn't care that he had absolutely no control of things. He didn't need to have complete control of things.

   It sounds like I'm a controlling person but I'm really not. It's complicated. I learned the hard way that I always had to be in control, mostly of myself, though I wish I had control over some other things.

I wished for a lot of things.

   I wished that my mother was here, something that I found strange. I had such hatred towards her, but I knew deep down, I loved her and that deep down, she loved me. Or maybe that was just what I told myself. Maybe it was all mind over matter.

   Though I wasn't sure if I loved my own mother, I knew I loved Stella. Everyone loved Stella. Even a heartless human wouldn't be able to resist loving Stella. Even my mother loved Stella, maybe only at certain times, but still, that was saying a lot about how lovable Stella was.

   The bus was steadily rolling through the streets of Seattle now. For a moment, I had to remember how I got here. Why I was on this bus that was taking me to a random park that I had only realized existed hours ago.

   Suddenly, I felt a wave of pure fear ripple through my body, sending a shiver down my spine. There were so many things I should be worried about but my running mind refused to worry about them. I hugged the backpack closer towards my body and returned my eyes back to the window. 

   There was no noise besides the occasional car sounds coming from the little boy playing with his hot wheels and the sound of cars zooming by outside of the bus. I was usually one to like silence but silence was also scary. It is then when you are left with nothing but your mind, and the mind isn't always a friendly thing.

   I was utterly alone now, and in some way, it was reassuring to me to know I was the only person. But at the same time, that thought was utterly terrifying. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on something else. Not the solitude I was now in. Not the urge deep in the pit of my stomach screaming at me to satisfy the monster in me.

   The monster wasn't in me. I was the monster. I had become the monster that now was the sole focus of my world. That wasn't completely true. If the monster was my sole focus, I wouldn't be on this bus right now. There was still a tiny sliver of Summer Brown somewhere in there and that was why I am on this bus.

   Or maybe it was the monster that got me on the bus because Summer wouldn't have even gotten me to Seattle.

   In the few seconds that I had my eyes shut, I was quickly reminded of how nothing is in your control. My eyes flew open to the sound of a deafening crash followed by an ear-splitting scream and in a quick flash, I thought that two cars had collided next to the bus.

   It was in that quick flash that I saw the seats in front of me start to lean towards the right and I realized, much to my horror, that it wasn't just the seats in front of me, but the whole bus.

   A cry of fear came flying out of my mouth as the bus tipped sideways, throwing me out of my seat before I was knocked unconscious. 

   The last thing I saw was the petrified face of the boy who had smiled at me just as his tiny body smashed into one of the bus windows. 

Nothing is in your control.