One afternoon in 2020, I was at Tūranga in Christchurch with my oldest brother, George.  George apparently told me to stay at Tūranga while he explored the Botanic Gardens. But my seven-year-old self couldn’t be trusted, so I silently followed him.

I biked behind him and oh no! It's a red light. I stopped until it was green. Then, whoosh! I looked away, and he’s gone. I continued on while I began to worry about where George was.

I reached the gardens because I remembered he had said something about ‘Botanic Gardens.’ I arrived at the playground and only just then reached a horrifying conclusion–I was lost! Those three words had almost paralysed me but I still stood strong. I noticed a group of policemen nearby.

POLICE! Am I being arrested? I have seen far too many crime movies so I knew what was going on. In shock, I hid in the tunnel slide for 5 to 10 minutes before my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what would happen if I approached them. They saw me and they instantly said, “Come with us.” I had no choice but to go.

The policemen escorted me to their vehicle, they told me that someone had reported that I was lost. But who reported me, though? Was it George? The answer is still mysterious to me to this day. 

When I was escorted to Tūranga I saw George, and he instantly ran up to me and said, “Where were you?” 

I then saw my dad’s car, and he was going to take me home. I was very happy that I was coming back home and I was no longer lost. There was a happy ending to this after all. Before I realised how much I was going to be scolded by my parents…