Every night I’d start at the red tree. Every night it was someone different counting down and I had to choose my own damn story. When they looked up from counting, that haunting smile followed if I hadn’t hidden. I needed to hide by the count of thirty. One. Two. Three… f o u r…… run. Don’t stop not for any damn thing. Don’t look back either. It isn’t worth it. Hiding in a tree is the best place and best use of time but it doesn’t always work. Don’t hide in a tree if the person who’s counting can climb. They’ll find you fast. Too fast.