Okay, so this one was weird even for me, and was based on a momentary panic attack that many of you will relate too. It is using the premise of unusual narrator, and a “game” of hide and seek where only one of the participants knows it is a game. Would love to hear feedback on this one.
I was jammed under the bed, behind a slipper, and under a towel, and I wanted to squeal with glee; she was never going to find me here. I could hear her walking around downstairs, searching every nook and cranny, all the places I should be, but I was in none of them.I was far better at hide and seek than she was.
It was comfy here too, more so that my regular spot, but I wouldn’t want to stay here forever. I was one who was built for service, to be used was my calling and I wouldn’t see much use hiding under the bed, as much fun as it was.
I stayed still as she walked into the bedroom, and heard her call out. “Where did I last see you?”
The answer was of course, was in this very room, sitting on the bed, waiting while she changed into something more comfortable. I think we were supposed to go out later, but that was quickly forgotten, and we ended up eating left over kraft dinner, even though we could have ordered something far more substantial.
Anyways, she wandered off, got distracted by a post on Facebook, and I languished, forgotten by all but the cat. She snuggled up against me and we chilled there for a while until she grew bored, and then we played a little game of tag. Thats how I found this hiding space actually, ended up here at the end of the game. I took a few minutes to relax when I heard her hunting for me and decided to play a little game with her too.
Was it a game if she didn’t know we were playing?
She sounded a little out of breath now as she checked the closet and then tore out of the room. I could hear her in the office, the bathroom, the kitchen, living room, basement, what, why would I be in the basement.
It took twenty minutes for her to work back around to the bedroom but I waited with baited breath the entire time. She tried swiping a foot under the bed, but it didn’t nearly reach me, and I waited as she left the room again.
I started to worry a little, what if she really never found me here. What if I languished here, until I was obscure, obsolete, replaced. Panic began to rise within me, and I missed her re-entering the bedroom. I only heard her when she was standing practically on top of the bed.
“Okay, stop, breathe. Now, if I were my wallet, where would I be?” She asked, and then she stopped, and I could hear her petting the cat, and then. “Oh, Oh, you didn’t did you?” She asked and before I could figure out who she was talking to, she was off the bed and on the floor, sweeping with her arm this time, and then gone again.
She came back a minute later with a broom and I knew I was found. A few quick sweeps later and I was out, in her hands, and she was chastising the cat.
“You have to stop stealing my wallet!” She exclaimed, as if the cat did this.
Oh well, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and I was back, secure in my spot in the front of her bag, knowing tomorrow was shopping day.
Anne McSommers' Writing Nook 