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Not It

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The thrill of not being “It” always injected a flow of relief through my veins. There was this sort of shame in being “It”; you were the one who had to search alone to find your peers, unsure of whether or not they were peering you at you from that bush or were changing their original hiding spaces. To avoid this childhood tragedy, I managed to shriek, “Not It!” in time almost every time, my drive being, well, the possibility of being “It.”
I guess Hide & Seek is the game that will never get old as my childhood possessions, attitude (okay, maybe not that), and dreams have. There will always be the adrenaline rush when I can’t find the perfect, sheltering spot in the minute amount of allotted time, and the thrill when the Seeker- “It”- is a mere foot away from my face and I have to keep from letting my squeak of a laugh penetrate my guarding lips.
Although I was petrified- no exaggeration- of the dark, looming nighttime shadows, and being alone, being a participant in Hide & Seek, even when the sun tucked away for a nap, never frightened me. Perhaps it was because I loved the feeling of hiding and knowing someone would find me.
I guess I could say I still am like that.

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