I have never been more humiliated and embarrassed in my life.
My pride made me suck up the tears before they could fall.
And I held my head high, trying to look for a way out of this.
I've never eaten any stranger's leftovers before so I don't really know how to feel about this.
I guess I was living a really spoiled life with everything I needed in hand's reach.
There were less fortunate people in the world that have to do this on a daily basis, so why couldn't I?
If I don't eat then I won't survive, and if I don't survive, I will just make Zanthos' wish come true.
That last thought spurred me into action.
I picked up the cold and slightly stale leftover of a hamburger and took a big bite.
Because I was so hungry, I ate the whole thing and didn't care that it was cold and stale.
Other than the hamburger, I ate a half eaten bag of chips and half of a bagel.
I hope I don't get anything strange from this.
After almost 6-8 hours of trying to sleep to conserve energy, one of the airport security actually came up to me and asked me about my situation.
The male was in his 40-50′s and his English was rather broken.
He was pretty nice and had gone off to find this woman who worked in one of the food shops that opened.
The lady spoke somewhat-fluent English and was really nice.
She was very understanding throughout the whole thing and even tried to comfort me.
In the end, the security guard let me borrow his phone to call my family.
I wracked my brain for people to call since my options were kind of limited.
I could only think of my sister, whom I never mention, and my next door neighbor.
I sincerely hoped that one of them would pick up.
My younger sister didn't pick up like I expected.
My neighbor, who has been living next to me and my grandma for almost 15 years, picked up.
The lady never had anything to do other than gossip all day and spread rumors about everyone in the neighborhood.
I was included because, to her, I was a useless spinster who was hellishly ugly and will probably never, ever, get married.
She always berated me for my lack of love interests and gave me trouble for never watering my grass or if the leaves on my tree went into her yard.
I mean, that's what trees do though, and it's not like I can control the wind.
Other than that, she always wanted to talk about everyone's business.
And by talk, I mean 2-4 hours of pure torture.
Nobody has the time for that.
Doesn't she sound like a handful of sunshine?
Wait until you actually meet the bitter old lady.
When she finally picked up, I could hear the loud screeching of her 10+ cats through the phone like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard.
Then, I proceeded to tell her my current situation, leaving out unnecessary information and hoping that she would help me.
"I don't know about this, Emira. It sounds shady what you're having me do," my next door neighbor, Lou, said through the phone.
At first, she was apprehensive when I told her to go into my house and send me my passport to the kind security guard who was helping me.
Thankfully, I decided to make a passport in case I have to leave the country due to my past.
I have pretty huge trust issues.
"I'm sure it's not something big. I have a spare key underneath of the flower pot in the front and the passport is in my room in the nightstand. First drawer. It won't take you but a couple of minutes," I said in detail.
I was kind of apprehensive to ask her for help, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"It's time I'm wasting. My cats will go nuts, Emira. You know Vanilla and Kale can't live without me for even 1 second." She tried to decline and I was tempted to roll my eyes at her excuse.
As if.
I bet her cats would be throwing a house party without her.
That or run away while they can before she gets back.
Those poor cats.
"I'll pay you back for this, Lou. I'll pay you for the express shipping fee and for the help," I said.
In the end, I had to bribe her with money before she actually agreed to help.
This was pretty typical.
The lady never did anything for free unless she had something to benefit from it.
After that was done, I turned on the wifi on the phone, went looking for an airline that accepted payment through Paypal, and managed to find one before purchasing an airplane ticket to the United States.
It would have been a little easier if I knew the numbers of my credit card.
Which makes me wonder, does anyone really?