Hide and Seek

Alright, just breathe, relax. 

Chase Green had a beautiful mind, dripped in honey and malt, pure genius. She's the one who said we should play. In December when the ground was frozen hard as stone as the weather took a turn. In December when the air smelled of spiced pears and cracked pepper. It whirled around us as we ran, streaming in luxurious patterns from the homes lining the old dirt road. There were five of us then.

First breathe in.

Asher Kent had a poisonous mind, washed in salt and syrup, absolute darkness. He’s the one who came up with the rules. One person would be it, four people would hide. 

He was it first. I should have known. I remember my feet pounding out a haunting rhythm against the icy grass, my breath coming out in puffs as I weaved through the crumbles of stone, broken by time. By the end they were painted red. 

Then hold it, clear your head. 

Lani Stuard had a gentle mind, brushed with cream and cinnamon, naturally humane. She was the first one out. 

I can still see her eyes, slate grey, reflecting the bright lights of the life she never got to see. 

I can still hear her scream, sharp enough to cut through the layers of ice encasing his cold heart. Almost.

That’s when I started to run. 

Anything negative, just release it.

Beck Willams had a charming mind, drizzled in cinnamon and coffee, sheer addiction. He was the second one out. 

I can still recall his face, frozen in terror as his blood ran in rivulets on the already slippery ground. He grabbed my hand as he fell, collapsing into the mass of thorns.

I can still feel his warm blood as it ran down my forearm, a cherry candy stain. 

That’s when I looked for a place to hide. 

Let it all go. 

Ro Patrick had a hidden mind, coated in arsenic and chocolate, an utter enigma. She was the lucky one. 

I never trusted anyone more in my life. 

I recall the depth in her gaze, heavy with time and burdens placed too young. I recall her nails as they dug into my shoulder, her voice already gone as foam spilled from her mouth, a pillowy poison, pink with saliva and cells. 

She died fast. 

That’s when I got goosebumps. 

Do these thoughts benefit me? Is this how it ends?

Charley Mason had a dangerous mind, steeped in whiskey and smoke, unfiltered mystery. She was the last one. 

I remember her laugh, rough as sandpaper. She was only older by two years, yet it showed in her chocolatey skin. 

I remember feeling her body land on top of mine, slick with blood and sweat as I laid beneath the tall fronds of matted grass. 

That’s when I gave up. 

Then ever so carefully,

Goosebumps crawled up my arms, my fingers were numb as I pressed a hand over my mouth. My icy lips pursed together, suppressing a scream as almost emotionless tears ran down my face, my throat full with the bitterness of horror. 

I heard him whistling. 

Release. 

Charley’s body heat leached into mine, but the December air stole it away in seconds. It’s odd, not feeling someone’s heart as they lie over your beating one. A broken heart stabbed through makes an eerie sound.

I recall the lilting rendition of “We wish you a merry christmas” that buzzed through my ears as I lay. 

I hadn’t known Asher could sing. 

Breathe out, so slowly. 

It started to snow. Soft, thick flakes. I heard it first, that haunting silence that comes with the heavy droplets. My skin began to sting, Charley’s blood seeping onto my frozen arms and bare neck. 

I recall thinking of my family, how they would react when I never came home. They thought I was happy, they knew I was happy so why would I leave? I recall praying to whoever was listening that it wasn’t real, the blood on my skin just the sugary glue of a candy cane, the bitterness in my throat just the aftermath of a dare to take a spoonful of raw cocoa. 

That’s when he started talking. 

Just release that air, that fear. 

“I know you’re there. Come out now, I don’t have all day.” I remember squeezing the last tears from my eyes, holding back a shudder, my scalp crawling with ghostly insects. 

“Come on. This isn’t fun.” His voice was lurid, angry. “Fine, have it your way.” His strange accent took on a slightly psychotic sound. I took a breath, too loud. 

That’s when I started to count. 

Ten. 

There were five of us to start. Now there were two. 

Nine. 

The snow and blood was frozen against my neck, if I moved too much it would cut.

Eight. 

There was no noise, the snow muffling Asher’s whistling. 

Seven. 

Small, haunted things crawled over my hands and neck.

Six. 

People wouldn’t remember, people wouldn’t care. People loved Asher, everyone did. 

Five. 

I was on the brink. Madness and horror mixing into a painful chemical in my mind. 

Four. 

Charley’s body became too heavy, I couldn’t breathe underneath the layers of twisted grass. 

Three. 

My breath reflected onto my face, hot and sour. My heart started to race, I could hear him now. 

Two. 

Darkness began to seep into the edges of my vision, red light blurring out all other colors. 

One. 

He was so close, I could hear his labored breaths, hear the air escaping his lips, freezing in the blustery air and crumbling to the snow at his feet.

The snow that was already stained with everyone else’s blood, all those people, not yet old enough to even have known life for what it was. 

The snow that had been matted down by the treads of old and new shoes. 

The snow that was carved out beneath Charley’s body. 

The snow that was imprisoning me, trapping me in. 

I was the one who said we should play. 

Now I couldn’t breathe. 

I screamed. 

I don’t remember what really happened. 

But I think he found me.

Good.