I darted behind a big family who both looked like me and was going to Paris, France. I really didn’t care where I went, as long as it is a long way away. However, I hadn’t taken into consideration that I would need a passport. 

 

“May I check your passport?” the security guard asked.

 

I fumbled through my pockets, but alas, there was nothing. I decided to take a chance, and I ran, past the line and through the metal detectors, who beeped insistently behind me. Once I get to boarding area 247, I slow down to a fast walk to make me less obvious. Suddenly, my hands are jerked backward and handcuffed. For me, it is the end.