One time this happened...

As I stood at the edge of the platform, the train's whistle shrilled out a dissonant note that shattered the afternoon calm. It was a small, almost imperceptible tremor, yet it sent a shiver through me.

As we careened through a rain-soaked market in a rickety three-wheeled cart driven by my cousin, I felt an inexplicable sense of exhilaration, our waterlogged faces glistening under flickering neon signs advertising fried insects and questionable beauty products. My mom had just given me a pair of battered headphones and told me to listen.

I woke up in a small hostel room in Tokyo, my mind foggy from last night's Karaoke adventure. Today was my last day in Japan – a country that had bewitched me with its vibrant colors, eclectic food, and enigmatic people.

I stepped off the train in Tokyo, the neon signs a shock to my system. I'd traded the familiarity of home for an adventure, and I wasn't sure if I'd made a mistake.