Paris, France is known as one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Everyone from all over the globe aspires to go there and witness its elegance first hand. When I walked the French streets, admiring the artistry, I could truly understand why so many people dreamed of being in my position.
       

For my very first tour of the city, I went to the Louvre Museum. I was in complete shock while looking at all the paintings and sculptures; The Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and so many other astounding pieces. The guided tour moved very fast, so within several minutes, I was separated from the rest of the group, my family included; however, I did not pay much attention to this. I knew I could easily take out my phone and call them to find out their exact location. Although my slow pace caused me to become disconnected with my family, I was able to admire the pieces much more.
       

When I thought the tour was over, I went outside the museum and I waited for my family to join me on the streets. The streets were swarmed with oblivious people that seemed to have no awareness of their surroundings, for they repeated to rudely shove me. When I had enough of their aggravating matter, I moved into a less crowded area. I sat down against a wall and began to play Candy Crush Saga on my phone. While I was waiting for my family to conclude their tour, I witnessed several odd things go by. A car slowly circled the premises, and one man in a hooded sweatshirt exited it. The vehicle drove off after he got out, but I later saw it circle again.
       

When the hooded man came up to me, I was still playing on my phone and did not notice him until he spoke. He had a very thick French accent. “Are you waiting for someone?” he muttered.

“Uhh… Oui!” I chuckled. I didn’t think much of it. I just thought he was trying to make conversation.
       

“Votre maman et papa?” he softly spoke in French.
       

“My mom and dad? Yeah, I think they’re still in the museum.”
       

“Why don’t you come with me? I’ll keep you company while you wait for them.” I began to realize what was going on.
       

“I better not,” I began to back away. “Oh look!” I screamed. “I think that’s my dad right there!” I tried to scare him. “You see him? That big dude with all those tattoos and…”
       

“Nice try.” He grabbed my wrist. I couldn’t move. Frozen in fear, I stood there, staring at the man in the hooded sweatshirt. His fingers and fingernails dug into my lower arm nearly breaking the skin. My pulse started to rapidly speed up and my knuckles began to turn white. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but I couldn’t do anything. No sound came out, and no muscle moved. I dropped my phone in fright and began to panic. I thought of every action movie I had ever seen. I tried to think of any way I could get him to let go. I could have punched him in the face, kneed him in the groin, or even stuck with the classic grab-twist-and pull. But, I didn’t. I just stood there with a stupid look on my face, petrified of what was going to happen.
       

The car pulled up and the door swung open. The other man in the car began screaming something in French. When the man in the hooded sweatshirt began to try and pull me away, I unfroze and started to fight back. I kicked him in the shin and when he bent down to grab it in pain I elbowed him in the nose. He was about to hit me back but I took his arm and twisted it. He elbowed me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me. That is when I began screaming for help.
       

No one was paying attention. There I was, screaming at the top of my lungs, and the oblivious people who passed barely glanced over, except for one person. Luckily for me it was my brother. He sprinted over and helped get the man in the hooded sweatshirt off of me. The man ran into his car and it took off. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?” my brother was freaking out.
       

“I have no idea!” I yelled out of breath. “I was just sitting here and this dude came up to me!” We found our parents and we went right back to the hotel.

“You’re a moron! You’re a freaking moron!” my mom was hysterical. “What is wrong with you? You couldn't be a normal person and stay inside?” She was just screaming how much of an idiot I was for leaving the museum without everyone and then moving into a non-crowded area.

“Mom. I’m fine. Nothing happened. He’s gone!”
       

After that, the world was not black and white to me anymore. It was gray, a very ugly shade of gray. I realized people do whatever they want and whatever they can to get what they want. I was almost kidnapped and I am so happy that I will never know what would have happened to me if the man in the hooded sweatshirt had gotten me into that car, if my brother didn’t come when he did, or if I had been frozen throughout the entire incident. It was one of the scariest moments of my life, but it also opened my eyes. The rest of the trip was incredible. We went to more museums, some French restaurants, and just walked around. Paris changed me, it hurt me, it scared me, but somehow, all I want to do is go back.