3...2...1..Go

• Freya Matthews, Grade 6, Glen Huntly Primary School
• Short Story
• 2017

3rd in the 'Write Here Write Now 2017' competition

I sprint down the hill, my legs carrying themselves, and I can hardly see but I must make it to the dam at the edge of the paddock, before the Spotlight gets turned on.
My eyes are watering with the speed and cold, and the fresh smell of damp hay is exhilarating, but I'm not thinking of that.
I get to where I want to be, and finally manage to get my legs to stop moving themselves. I crouch behind the blackberry bushes on the edge of the dam, and as the Spotlight gets turned on I nervously pull up my black hoodie, as it blends in with the cloudy night better than my pink beanie.
I hear rustling, but it's only my friend, whispering that her brother didn't count long enough, and therefore didn't give us a fair amount of time to hide. I'm not listening, I'm watching the wide beam of the Spotlight coming downhill, heading to where the older boys are hiding. Their loud whispering is giving themselves away.
No! The boys, knowing their stupid plan of hiding out in the open isn't working, are running noisily towards me and the blackberry bushes! I must move quickly, so I boldly dash off to the back of the paddock, where the tall pine trees give the best cover. I look up, and see the boys have managed to stay hidden, but my friend hasn't been so lucky. The bright ray of the Spotlight had landed right on her, and she noisily stomps uphill where the parents are sitting around the campfire.
I know I mustn't stay here, as the back of the paddock, though it gives the best cover, is a notorious place for hiding. I wait until the ray of Spotlight is busy searching for the boys, who have now split up and are heading all different places. I begin jogging along the back fence, and come to the middle, where there are no trees to protect me now. I know there are blackberry bushes littered all across here, and the last thing I want to do is to walk into one. My torch is in my pocket, and I bite my lip, thinking. If I shine my torch to check where the bushes are, the Spotlight is sure to land on me.
I need a diversion. I glance back at the dam. It's about 30 metres away. I think I can throw that far. I pick up a dry cow pat, and throw it like a Frisbee towards the dam. It doesn't land in the water, but makes a good rustling sound, loud enough for the Spotlight to swing around.
Quick as a flash, I turn my torch on and dart like a bullet through the bushes. I get to the other side with the trees and think, safe. I look back at the Spotlight, but it's running uphill.
The parents have called everyone for dinner. Oh well, I think.
I win.