I feel it coming, but I can't stop it.PANIC.They left me.My parents actually left me! IN FRANCE!Meanwhile, Paris is oddly silent.Even the opera singer has packed it in for the night. I lose it.The walls here are thinner than Band-Aids, so if I break down, my neighbors-my new classmates-will hear everything. I'm going to be sick.I'm going to vomit that weird eggplant tapenade I had for dinner, and everyone will hear,and no one will invite me to watch the mimes escape from their invisible boxes, or whatever it is people do here in their spare time.
"I feel it coming, but I can't stop it. PANIC. They left me. My parents actually left me! IN FRANCE!"
Meanwhile, Paris is eerily quiet, and even the opera singer has gone for the night. The narrator is overwhelmed, worried about breaking down because the thin walls might reveal her distress to her new classmates. She's nervous about losing her composure and missing out on typical Parisian activities, fearing embarrassment and loneliness in this unfamiliar setting.
