When children play games, the games become much more than an activity to pass time or something just for fun, games become reality. When I was young, I had a very competitive spirit and a large imagination, therefore games were very serious and all about surviving the elements and, of course, winning. Hide-and-seek was one of my favorite games to play with my family and friends. One hide-and-seek game in particular I remember the most. That game was filled with moments of adrenaline, darkness, and fear, but what I recall distinctly from that night hiding in the woods is family, safety, and light.
The wind was chilly as the sun had set, but the evening was young just as the children were who gathered in front of my house to play. The game was decided: hide-and-seek. One child was chosen, and the rest of us gathered around and waited eagerly to begin our challenge of not being found. The counting began, and the energy of excitement shifted to survival mode as the task of stealth became my new reality. "One, two, three," shouted the boy. All the kids around me began to scurry off in different directions. "Four, five, six . . . ." I scanned my perimeter and began to sprint in the opposite direction of the other kids, towards the dark woods that held mysteries and concealed danger. "Seven, eight, nine . . . ." I could feel the adrenaline flow through my body and push me closer and closer to the allure of the woods. "Ten, eleven, twelve . . . ." Twigs scratched across my face as I dove into the din of the forest.
The pulse of the boy's count that beat in my head was drowned out by the throb of my heart the more I ran. "Thirteen . . . ." The sounds of crickets and the hooting of owls lingered over me in the darkness. I felt alone and scared. I stumbled and fell hard. Looking up, I saw a tree in the distance that had overhanging branches and large leaves that swept the wisps of grass beneath it. It was dark, yet it seemed to beckon to me, offering a safe haven for a scared girl like me seeking refuge from those who would soon be coming. I slowed my speed to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness that enveloped me.
After walking a few steps, I heard the crack of a twig behind me. I whipped my head around and saw a small dark figure not far behind me. I bolted forward like a sprinter shooting off the blocks at the start of a race. Clumsily leaping over the shadowy form of a fallen trunk, I crashed through the thick bramble in front of me, hopelessly ensnared in the clutch of thorny wet branches, and not alone.
At that moment, I lost feeling. My legs collapsed beneath me as every part of my body went numb. I could feel every nerve in my right leg begin to pulsate with such a force it felt like tiny guitar strings were vibrating up and down my thigh. I reached up to grab a branch on the tree above me to steady myself. Despite my attempt to suppress my hyperventilating, the figure still approached. Then it slowed its steps until it stood a few feet in front of me. The petite silhouette lifted its gaze to meet mine, and for a moment our eyes locked. I was staring into the eyes of my frightened sister.
A gust of air burst out of me in a long exhale as a sudden sense of relief overcame me. I gently wrapped my arms around my sister's tiny body and whispered a delighted "hello." We stayed in that hugging embrace, both trying to lighten the darkness around us with quiet, uplifting reassurances.
Just as we were becoming somewhat comfortable in our strange, dark haven we were jolted by a loud thud in the group of trees in front of us and the screech of high pitched laughter. I clutched a mossy knot on the tree, and a sudden shiver ran down my arm. Horrified, I felt my hand begin to shake with an uncontrollable force. The branch began to vibrate, rattling leaves, and shaking the dew to the ground in a shower of conspicuous spatters. Dank pollen fell from above and began swirling around the face of my sister. She looked at me with panic in her eye as she scrunched up her nose, gasped for breath, and then let out a loud bellowing sneeze that shook all the trees around us. We had given ourselves away!
There was no time to think. With our hands interlocked, we dashed across a clearing. There were sounds of tree branches snapping and feet thumping behind us, but we did not dare stop. We were running as fast as my sister's little legs could go but I urged her to go even faster. We jumped over a muddy creek and climbed up a root covered embankment until our faces were engulfed in the unexpected light of hope.
We made it! We had arrived at the base of the untouchables. We were safe. We were not alone. We were no longer hidden, but no one could come after us and chase us down.
Looking back on that evening, I cannot help but smile. I laugh at how frightened I was of entering the dark, wet woods and how startled I was to discover my sister had followed me. My most pronounced memories are not the nightmare of the noises I heard in the woods or the fear of someone finding and catching me, they are the light and love that come from the embrace of family and the safety and security of a home base. After all, isn't that what we all want to hide and seek?
The wind was chilly as the sun had set, but the evening was young just as the children were who gathered in front of my house to play. The game was decided: hide-and-seek. One child was chosen, and the rest of us gathered around and waited eagerly to begin our challenge of not being found. The counting began, and the energy of excitement shifted to survival mode as the task of stealth became my new reality. "One, two, three," shouted the boy. All the kids around me began to scurry off in different directions. "Four, five, six . . . ." I scanned my perimeter and began to sprint in the opposite direction of the other kids, towards the dark woods that held mysteries and concealed danger. "Seven, eight, nine . . . ." I could feel the adrenaline flow through my body and push me closer and closer to the allure of the woods. "Ten, eleven, twelve . . . ." Twigs scratched across my face as I dove into the din of the forest.
The pulse of the boy's count that beat in my head was drowned out by the throb of my heart the more I ran. "Thirteen . . . ." The sounds of crickets and the hooting of owls lingered over me in the darkness. I felt alone and scared. I stumbled and fell hard. Looking up, I saw a tree in the distance that had overhanging branches and large leaves that swept the wisps of grass beneath it. It was dark, yet it seemed to beckon to me, offering a safe haven for a scared girl like me seeking refuge from those who would soon be coming. I slowed my speed to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness that enveloped me.
After walking a few steps, I heard the crack of a twig behind me. I whipped my head around and saw a small dark figure not far behind me. I bolted forward like a sprinter shooting off the blocks at the start of a race. Clumsily leaping over the shadowy form of a fallen trunk, I crashed through the thick bramble in front of me, hopelessly ensnared in the clutch of thorny wet branches, and not alone.
At that moment, I lost feeling. My legs collapsed beneath me as every part of my body went numb. I could feel every nerve in my right leg begin to pulsate with such a force it felt like tiny guitar strings were vibrating up and down my thigh. I reached up to grab a branch on the tree above me to steady myself. Despite my attempt to suppress my hyperventilating, the figure still approached. Then it slowed its steps until it stood a few feet in front of me. The petite silhouette lifted its gaze to meet mine, and for a moment our eyes locked. I was staring into the eyes of my frightened sister.
A gust of air burst out of me in a long exhale as a sudden sense of relief overcame me. I gently wrapped my arms around my sister's tiny body and whispered a delighted "hello." We stayed in that hugging embrace, both trying to lighten the darkness around us with quiet, uplifting reassurances.
Just as we were becoming somewhat comfortable in our strange, dark haven we were jolted by a loud thud in the group of trees in front of us and the screech of high pitched laughter. I clutched a mossy knot on the tree, and a sudden shiver ran down my arm. Horrified, I felt my hand begin to shake with an uncontrollable force. The branch began to vibrate, rattling leaves, and shaking the dew to the ground in a shower of conspicuous spatters. Dank pollen fell from above and began swirling around the face of my sister. She looked at me with panic in her eye as she scrunched up her nose, gasped for breath, and then let out a loud bellowing sneeze that shook all the trees around us. We had given ourselves away!
There was no time to think. With our hands interlocked, we dashed across a clearing. There were sounds of tree branches snapping and feet thumping behind us, but we did not dare stop. We were running as fast as my sister's little legs could go but I urged her to go even faster. We jumped over a muddy creek and climbed up a root covered embankment until our faces were engulfed in the unexpected light of hope.
We made it! We had arrived at the base of the untouchables. We were safe. We were not alone. We were no longer hidden, but no one could come after us and chase us down.
Looking back on that evening, I cannot help but smile. I laugh at how frightened I was of entering the dark, wet woods and how startled I was to discover my sister had followed me. My most pronounced memories are not the nightmare of the noises I heard in the woods or the fear of someone finding and catching me, they are the light and love that come from the embrace of family and the safety and security of a home base. After all, isn't that what we all want to hide and seek?