When I was 11, my mom managed to get our town's police and civil defense units to search for me all around our town and nearby woods, also army checkpoints were deployed on the highways that crossed our town to check every vehicle. They thought I had been kidnapped, I wasn't, that morning I was supposed to go to a extracurricular class but I didn't wrote the address correctly so my dad dropped me off a couple blocks away from the actual place. When the class finished and my dad wasn't there I just figured he forgot to pick me up so I started walking home. I did noticed the streets were pretty empty for a saturday and then out of nowhere a swarm of about 5 police cars rushed to me, an officer asked me my name and another one had a photo of me, they picked me off, took me to the police station and everything was ok, when I came home it looked like it was my freaking funeral, all the teachers from school were there, neighbors, both my dad's and mom's family, and most of the kids from my class with their parents. I made into the local news, and since it was a small town everybody knew me as "the lost kid" for about 7 years after that when I left to go to college. Some people still remember me when I go back to visit my parents.