I don’t know why I decided to walk home from the airport, but I did. There’s no proper pathway from the gate to the main road. So, for a stretch of the way, I had to carry my heavy suitcase awkwardly in one hand, bending my body acutely to support the weight. People were staring at me, but I didn’t care. I was already on my way.

Outside, I had to fight off an array of taxi drivers and bus conductors who, when I told them I would walk home, gave me a bewildered stare. Understandable. But annoying all the same.

I passed bus stops and parked taxis, thinking only of putting one foot in front of the other. I didn’t want to think of anything. I didn’t even want to look around at the city I’d returned to after close to a decade. It didn’t feel real. In my mind, I was still back in America. Forlorn. Anxious. Depressed.

There was every reason to be. I went to America not just for college but to start a whole new chapter of my life. A new book, even. But within a few years, the chapter had gone unwritten, and the book had been torn up. Turns out my parents couldn’t afford to pay for my complete tuition, and I didn’t have it in me to earn my way to graduation.

I gave up.

I begged, borrowed, and stole what I needed to buy a return ticket home. Back to the city I’d left with a hopeful heart. Now, the city was glaring at me while I, eyes on my dragging feet, was too ashamed to look.

The airport was out of view now. Before me, there was a vast array of vehicles passing through the many roads that make up this side of town. If I remember correctly, home is 30 minutes away. But that’s by bike or car. I don’t know how long it could take to walk. The longer the better. I don’t want to go home.

That last conversation with my parents had been painful. They hadn’t said much. They couldn’t. They weren’t angry but dejected. Why wouldn’t they be? And now, how can I look at them?

I don’t know. I simply walked.

This part of town was foreign to me. The only time I was here before I left was, in fact, on the drive to the airport. Back then, I remember thinking how sad I’d never explored this part of town. The last year before I left, I’d made it a point to explore as much of the city as I could. Now, I was glad that this part of town hadn’t been too tinged with the hope and optimism of back then. It was as untouched as it could be. I felt alien here. That was good. I don’t want to belong because I don’t belong. Here, at least.

I dragged my feet some more. All the money I’d managed to scrounge up paid for the return ticket almost exactly. With the little remaining, I’d bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. During the layaways, instead of eating anything, I’d simply smoked, and now, when I looked into the pack, there were just three cigarettes left. I lit one.

I inhaled as much as I could without choking. Cars passed something fierce. Why were they in such a hurry? Where were they going? Was it important? How does it feel to have somewhere to go? A destination? I don’t know the feeling anymore. For me, the car has stalled. The engine has failed. And I’m being towed back to the start. Charged extra. Flat broke to fix anything. No hope to start again.

It’s dark now. I’ve reached a place without any street lamps. If not for the many cars passing by, I’d be blinded. I still am for cars with blinding lights. When there’s a lull in the road, the tragic ember of my cigarette guides the way poorly. The rickety sound of my suitcase, who knows how long it’ll last, is my only companion.

You should have planned better. My mother had said.

We can’t afford to send anymore. My father had said.

What will you do now? My friends had said.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I heard a mumbling sound behind me. A bum had been following me. His eyes (I can’t see properly, but I think it’s his eyes) were staring at my suitcase. I started walking faster. He started following faster. I don’t know how long it’s been, but the roads are quiet now. Not a car in sight. I’ve become the perfect victim. Does this bum want to rob me? I don’t have anything but this suitcase. That’s it. That’s all I have in the whole world. How dare he try to rob me? I need to fight. I need to fight for what I have. It’s all I have.

I turned around immediately, ready for blood, but he wasn’t there. There was no one there. I was all alone.

My nerves were shot. Maybe this had been a bad idea. I should’ve taken a taxi, but I didn’t have it in me to face my parents. I didn’t have it in me to ask them to let me move back. They’d have let me. They will let me. To be honest, I was afraid of living with them. In failure.

Something moves. I turned back. Is the bum back? No. I don’t see anything. I swear I heard something move. I looked at my watch, and it’s been two hours since I landed. I looked at my phone and, of course, I still have my American Sim so I can’t call anyone. I don’t even have internet.

Something moves. It’s just the wind. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and pointed it around. Everywhere. No one. Still, just to play it safe, I decided to walk to the opposite side of the road.

I finally reached a place where the streetlights were on. Bright too. But, just my luck, the pavement was badly damaged. Maybe I should carry the suitcase till I reach a smoother path, I thought. No, it should be fine. It’s survived this long.

The left wheel broke. Spectacularly. It shattered completely. Must’ve caught onto a rock, but now, I had to carry the suitcase anyway. Great. At least, the street lights are still on.

The lights went off. The entire stretch of the road grew dim, dim, dim and then completely dark.

I heard a mumbling sound behind me. I didn’t dare look behind me. I walked. Fast. Fast. Faster. I tried to put the suitcase above my head. It was heavy. It felt heavier. I wanted to cry. The mumbling sound grew louder. Closer. I ran. I couldn’t run fast enough. This suitcase! I tossed it.

I ran. I ran. I ran. Out of breath. I clutched my chest. Anytime I felt like slowing down, the mumbling sound grew louder, rabid, more violent. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t see. Snot streamed down my nose. I couldn’t breathe. I just ran. As far away as I could.