The courtyard is alive with children. Some older, some younger. Some riding bikes, some playing tug-of-war, dodgeball, or badminton. Laughter and shouts fill the air.
I try almost everything, but much still doesn’t work out. Exhausted, I sit down on the curb.
A girl, older than me, approaches.
“Let’s play hide and seek!”
Even though I’m still a kid, I’m popular with the girls. I don’t know why, and I don’t think about it. But deep down, I know—I like it. I like their attention.
And this one, she’s one of those I particularly like.
“Let’s do it!” “I’ll count!” “Just count honestly!”
She turns away and starts counting. I look around—where to hide?
Ah, there are bushes nearby. That’ll do!
I hide in the bushes. But my mind is already elsewhere. Through the leaves, I see her walking toward me. Of course! I picked the most obvious spot. But it’s not that simple.
I carefully move, circling around the bush. The girl, confused, approaches the spot where I was. I quietly sneak up behind her and grab her.
“Gotcha!”
A loud, girlish scream echoes.
“This is hide and seek, not tag! You’re gonna pay for this!”
I have no choice but to run. But I don’t run fast.
“Caught you!” She grabs me tightly and pulls me close. Her body feels warm—or maybe it’s just me. And I realize this isn’t just hide and seek or tag anymore.
It’s strange, but when you’re surrounded by girls, people don’t pay attention to you. They don’t notice. And that’s very convenient. A group of boys always raises suspicion—or maybe fear.
I learn and observe. I learn to be invisible in plain sight.
But that’s not enough. You need to know how to hide even where it seems impossible.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The building, the stairwell, the stairs, the elevator—they’re traps. But for whom?
“Press it!” I shout.
The elevator starts moving. I run up the stairs. I need to beat the elevator.
Steps—they’re made for convenience, not for running. One small mistake, one misplaced foot, and it’s over.
I run upward, skipping several steps at a time, grabbing the railing to speed up my turns.
It’s an incredible strain. Jumping up and forward, turning. Another jump, another turn.
I hear the elevator moving at the same speed.
Sixth floor, eighth. My lungs burn, my legs refuse to obey. But through the pain, I push forward. Tenth. Just a little more.
I’m breathing heavily. My legs tremble and won’t hold. Not great—we arrived at the same time.
I need to be faster than the elevator.
Now down. Easier?
“Press it!” I shout.
The elevator starts descending.
I jump down the flight, absorbing the energy of the fall. It presses me down. Another jump. No, this is too slow. The elevator is leaving.
I lean on the railing and leap to the neighboring staircase. Again, I lean and leap. I catch up to the elevator. But it’s very dangerous. Every jump must be precisely calculated, and you must land your feet exactly on the steps—otherwise, injury, and a serious one. In a real situation, death.
Again and again. I overtake the elevator. The doors open. And, breathing heavily, I look at my astonished friend.
Only I can do this. No one else can.
The stairwell, the stairs—they’re a battlefield. Where you can easily defeat any opponent. And today, I’m satisfied with the result. It’s not perfect, but others are far behind.
“Now find me. Count to ten!”
They start counting.
I quickly run to the third floor and press myself against the wall, into a small recess by the elevator doors. Of course, I’m visible. But they, caught up in the chase, only glance at the elevator landings. It doesn’t occur to them that someone could hide here.
But after running a few floors higher, they realize I couldn’t have gone that far and start descending.
Down? We’ve played this game before. And down below, they’re waiting for me. They try to trap me from above and below.
I carefully press the call button. The elevator starts moving.
This disorients them. They don’t know if I’m in the elevator or which floor it was called from.
But the elevator comes to me, and they follow it.
I descend one floor. The hunters chase the elevator, expecting to catch me.
But while they confidently wait for the elevator, I quietly climb higher.
Yes, I’ve won.
The game is over, and I see the astonishment on their faces.
How? Where did you disappear to?
I smile slyly.
The same girl runs up to me.
“Let’s play dodgeball!”
It’s a very exciting game. All about reaction and psychology. Finally, I get knocked out.
And, of course, she doesn’t just pass by me. A little clumsy, but sincerely, she presses herself against me.
I look at the adults. Their eyes are empty. They see nothing. Just kids playing.
And a good boy in the company of girls.