Manhunt

​ To hunt or be hunted remain the rules of the greatest game I’ve ever had the misfortune to play. Running among the trees in the forest behind our homes by both moonlight and sunlight felt exhilarating; the stretch in my legs as I ran, the heaving breath of the person behind me like a freight train on the rare occasions I took one under my wing, the snapping and cracking of sticks and twigs beneath my feet, the ever present essential instinct to run. 

​To hunt or be hunted. My neighborhood appeared to be full of kids with an incredible range of creativity at our disposal. The zombie-lovers of the block enjoyed feeling the adrenaline rush of being chased outside rather than in a game while pretending that the Hunters were actually zombies. The bookworms enjoyed the strategy of the situation, almost worthy of being called childhood battle tactics. The thought of outsmarting their opponent was worth just as much as the adrenaline. 

​To hunt or be hunted was defined by two teams, two bases, and a forest. The Hunted would run off and hide, continually moving when the Hunters came near - staying still rarelyseemed to be an option. The Hunted’s goal was to get to their base without being tagged by a Hunter, otherwise they would become a Hunter. If every member of the Hunted team made it to the base without being tagged, they would win. If every member of the Hunted team was tagged and turned into a Hunter, the Hunters would win. 

​ Such a game was best played at night. Although somebody might automatically assume that wearing black was the best choice, it was actually the worst. Wearing black turned you into a silhouette. A black human shaped mass moving through the woods was just as bad as wearing fluorescents during the day. Easily seen, easily tagged. A slight change seemed to be all that was needed; changing from black to dark blue, green, or brown would help keep you hidden from the Hunters. Hiding was a boon for both the Hunters and Hunted. 

​The game that was actually titled 'Manhunt' was one of my favorite games, but playing it was a great misfortune. I was fast and quiet, but alarmingly so. I could never be found, so I was eventually forgotten about by those who played the game. I would later learn that my friends had gone inside, believing that everyone had been accounted for. By playing Manhunt, I learned how easily I could be forgotten. My mom would joke and laugh, curious about why I seemed upset,  but believing that it came down to child's play. Maybe it did, but a game can predict a lifetime.

Category: Games