Be it your phone or any other valuable, cherished possession, losing it is an unforgettably tense situation to find yourself in. Today I experienced the ups and downs of this nerve-racking rollercoaster ride.
From an early age, I have been anxious and unwilling to go on a rollercoaster; I’m the type of guy to buy tickets to Thorpe Park and spend the entire evening at the bumper cars with people half my age and height.
Today, I had the “privilege” to experience a rollercoaster ride.
A gut-wrenching, heart-rending, sobering ride.
Act 1 Scene 1: At Bus Stop, 15:45
I grope for my phone in my pockets, protruding with gloves, oyster cards, plastic wrappers, other pieces of rubbish that I can’t be bothered to discard and obviously, my phone.
I check my phone for the bus.
3 minutes.
I return it to the depths of wilderness within my bulging pocket and start to make small talk with some Year 11s behind me.
The bus arrives and I join the queue of students waddling on like penguins, because of the weight of our bags.
As I reach for my Oyster card, I can make out the distinct shape of the phone.
Act 1 Scene 2: On the Bus, 15:48
Clambering up the stairs, I sit down next to a Year 9, who was busy playing a game on his phone (which I can only imagine is Brawl Stars), at the front of the bus.
The bus stops, and moves continually, as it swims through the sea of traffic.
Bored, I fish out my phone and watch a singular YouTube short, before stuffing it back.
Correction: I believe I stuff it back and fasten the zip of the pocket.
Act 2 Scene 2: Home, 16:21
Following the short walk from the bus stop with my brother, on which a sense of musicality overcame me, I fiddle with the lock of my door to open it.
Finally, some heat.
(It’s going to heat up even faster.)
As I take off my coat and empty its contents, I cannot feel the weight of the phone.
What ensues is a panicked state of rummaging and accusing, as I search frantically, before yielding and using another phone to call my mum.
I search along the route I had taken, and along this rescue mission, I was told that the phone has been found.
Not in the house though – that would be too calm an ending.
It is apparently with a lady, whom we must claim it from; my immediate notion is that I must have left it on the seat when I watched the YouTube short.
Act 3, Scene 1: Home, 19:34
I am handed the phone by my parents, who claimed it from the kind-hearted and helpful soul.
Relief.
I thank in my head the existence of righteousness and good in the world.
I ease the heaviness of the guilt within my heart as I write, and it sobers me, as I realise my carelessness.
Calm down.
Despite the storyline being quite like other stories of lost phones, the impact of this emotional see-saw played a monumental role in maturing me even further.
Nevertheless, I am still scared of rollercoasters.
Even after being on one.
