The Story of Linnie, Part 1.

This story is unclear; a lack of clarity was the problem all along.

Linnie was eight years old, the first time she stepped onto a crowded bus, and was taken down a different route than intended. Her father couldn’t drive and her mother had to work late, that night; she’d been given the option of staying at school until she could be picked up, or being given a handful of change to take the bus, instead. Childishly impatient, she’d opted for the latter. She didn’t care much for the idea of sitting around at school with nothing to do.

She didn’t have many friends to play with, to while away the time. She was too shy, for that.

So, Linnie’s mother printed off the bus route she needed to take, gave her some change and the spare key to the house, and fretfully told her to call the moment she got home.

Linnie got onto the wrong bus, by accident.

Crushed against a metal pole, she clung to it and sniffled with her head down for an hour of the trip. There never seemed to be any less people. For every occupant that waded through the sea of bodies, two more would get on at the front and press everyone even further back.

Eventually, it was too much. The pungent reek of body odor, the jumble of noise, the all-consuming terror of not knowing where she was. Linnie got off the bus, disoriented and having trouble breathing…only to find that exiting was much, much worse.

She’d gotten off at a bus station. Wide, open space with nothing but signs and numbers that meant little to her. It didn’t occur to her to get on the same bus, going the opposite way. She didn’t see the right number for the bus that she was originally meant to get on.

All of the change had been spent on that first bus fare, and there wasn’t a payphone in sight.

Linnie walked, until she found the most cramped corner available – a dark, dank little space in the underground area, leading to a subway train – and cried.

The police found her like that six hours later. Her parents had called them at four o’clock, when she still hadn’t heard from her daughter. They drove Linnie home.

After that, Linnie couldn’t leave the house without dissolving into a panic attack. Rather than pressure her, her parents decided to take her out of school and teach her at home, instead.

Linnie didn’t leave the house for years.