The Alpha's Breeder 62 Thousands Of Miles Away

As I walked, I noticed a map on one of the walls.

It pinpointed the current location, and I was almost tempted to tear my hair out when I noticed that this Kyrgyzstan was close to Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and China.

And thousands of miles away from the United States of America.

Great.

I am really stranded.

Stranded!

No one here at the airport speaks English or speaks terribly mediocre English.

The problem was obviously them and me because I am terrible at decoding accents.

And everyone here speaks with a thick accent of some sort, making English sound like a foreign language to me.

Has anyone ever had this happen to them?

It's kind of like when Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker first started filming together.

I don't understand a single word that's coming out of these people's mouths.

Literally.

I've thought about contacting the authorities or police, but the thought of bringing attention to myself is off-putting.

Especially because I was afraid that the government would come for me if that was the case.

And who knows what could happen if I was collected by the government facility of science and research again.

I frowned.

I tried to look for American pa.s.sengers but everyone that I met always shook their heads at me because they didn't know English or was rus.h.i.+ng to catch their next flight.

Most of them paid no attention to me and instead opted to go around or avoid me in general.

There's got to be one kind-hearted person out there, right?

Right.

Gradually, my time ran down before I realized it.

The clock showed that it was past midnight and the people in the airport had dwindled down to almost no one.

It became rather ghostly in my area, meaning that there were no flights coming in from the United States, at least not for another day or so.

Not that there was no one around, I trudged back to the bathroom and started to clean myself up.

I ended up standing in my cotton panties and bra when I started to hand wash my s.h.i.+rt and pants.

Can you imagine how much of a psycho I must look like right now?

In my underwear was.h.i.+ng my body and clothes in a public bathroom late at night?

Yes.

I can too and I was extremely frustrated because of it.

With an agitated sign, I continued to wash the clothes.

The water that came down when I wrung the fabric out almost made me throw up again.

The yellow liquid was rancid and took almost 5 washes before the water came out cleaner.

My hands felt like they would fall off and they burned a lot because of the scratches and cuts on my knuckles.

The only complaint I had was the faucets.

They only stayed on for several seconds before shutting off due to the sensors and the need to save water nowadays.

If I wasn't in this situation, I would have complimented on the fact that this airport was trying to save water, but, as of now, I was annoyed.

It took me a lot longer than was necessary.

I silently shook my head and powered through everything, cleaning the rest of my body with my newly cleaned t-s.h.i.+rt.

I wasn't an exhibitionist, but I didn't care at the moment.

Cleaning off the disgusting p.i.s.s and s.e.m.e.n on my body and clothes was the only thing on my mind.

After what felt like hours, I finished cleaning all of my body, hair, and undergarments while standing in wet clothes.

The hand dryers were pretty useful at this point.

I used it to dry my undergarments and my clothes.

After that, I squatted underneath the hand dryers until my legs got numb in order to dry my hair.

Other than my current predicament in looking for someone who spoke English, there was another problem at hand—I am starving.

Hangry like those snickers commercials about not being yourself when you are hungry.

From all the traveling, I gathered that I must have been left unfed for 3+ days.

This explains the reason why I feel so lightheaded and short of breath.

The little food shops around had already closed when I was done cleaning myself in the bathroom.

My stomach was growling like a wild animal so, in desperate measures, I ended up going through the trash for leftovers.

This is what they mean by "one man's trash is another man's treasure", I thought.