On the night of September 3rd, I was a fugitive on the run, and they were after me.
I crouched in the darkness behind a trash can as the car rolled slowly past. Fortunately, I wasn't spotted. Once they had moved far enough away, I broke out of my hiding spot and moved quickly behind some bushes. As the vehicle rolled past once again, I strategized. "Slow, low, and steady wins the race."
In a minute or two, I was on the move again. After I had made my way down the street about 4 houses, I met up with my best friend Evan Nicholas. In the bushes, we discussed our predicament in hushed whispers. "Hey, where are they?" Evan asked me quietly. "I don't know," I replied as I looked through the leaves that concealed us, "But I think that they're gone for now." Tentatively, I stood up and scanned the dimly-lit street. I thought I heard a vehicle, so I ducked back behind the bushes, but it was all in my head. Cautiously, I moved ahead and Evan stayed back. Once he saw that the coast was clear, we made a mad dash to another street. We hid behind a large white truck and I looked over the hood to see what was happening in "the hood." I stepped out a little into the street to get a better view and I felt that the coast was clear......Until a car turned and its headlights swept towards me.
As fast as I possibly could, I turned to hide behind the car. Unfortunately, Evan was right there. My head slammed into his at a high speed, and in a moment, we were both prone on the lawn of a stranger. Immediately, I looked over to see how Evan was doing. He was clutching his face with both hands and I could tell he was in pain. "Evan. Are you okay?"......No answer. "Evan...Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." He mumbled. I reached up and touched my head. It was wet. I looked at my hand and there was blood on it. "Okay," I thought. "This can't be good." I touched my forehead again and that was when I felt the split in my skin. More blood. "Hey Evan, I'm bleeding." I said. He turned and looked at me. "Whoah. You really are." He said. He reached up and felt his own head. He was bleeding too. "Look," He said, "You're pretty bad. I'm going to go get help. You wait here."
As Evan ran off and I walked over to the curb, a drop of blood hit the pavement. I sat down and applied pressure to the wound. Because I couldn't remove my hand from the wound, I couldn't swipe away the mosquitos. (Maybe I lost more blood to them than to the laceration....) My sweat mixed with the blood and it began to run down my arm. It felt like I was sitting on that dimly lit street curb for a very long time. Eventually, I thought to myself "Well. I better go get some help." So I started to walk down the street with my hand pressed firmly on my bloody forehead. That's when they showed up.
Sam and our friend Dylan had been scanning the streets, looking for about 12 guys, as part of a game called "Fugitive." The object of the game is to get from point A to point B without being seen by the people in the car. Well....they found me. And I was glad they did. They let me into the car and we drove back to Dylan's house, where the game had begun.
Pictures were snapped, phone calls were made, and blood was wiped away. Eventually, we all decided to go to the Emergency Room next to McDonald's on Northpointe. The bleeding had long since stopped, so I just strolled in with a big smile and a big cut on my face. They patched me up with some glue and some tape-like stuff. Nothing was painful. After telling the doctor my story, he smiled at me and said...."Well, at least you had your head in the game." It was hilarious. Before I left, I got my sticker and lollipop for being such a good little boy.
If you didn't already know, our family is leaving the country. But who doesn't love a trip to the ER? (As if we didn't have enough excitement already. :)
I'll add more pictures later. Thanks for reading. :)