“THREE, TWO, ONE--- GO!!!” once the countdown was done, us then-rabid animals of Year 7 students sprinted off into the almost pitch black, somewhat dangerous darkness of the diverse forest. I wondered if this what it was like to be blind. Except for the ‘occasional’ tree, and the little white lights dancing like frantic, white fireflies. Now that it was all on, we weren’t the predators. We were the prey, and the parents were the predators.
I gasped as I tripped over a thick tree root, getting a good taste of the loose earth beneath my face. Spitting in repulsion, I wiped my mouth and continued (and also struggled) to climb up the side of the damp,almost slippery hill. “SPOTLIGHT!!” I whipped my head around. Whew, it wasn’t me. Despite the fact the chances of getting caught by a parent were dangerously high, I continued to scramble up the hill, and made a fair bit of noise doing it. A sharp, snapped stick poked me in the arm. I held in what was about to come out of my mouth at that moment. I took a short, very well deserved break, breathing in more of the night air and getting to know the area.
After another few minutes of gasping, tripping, and eating dirt, the flying fox tower was in my sights. I laughed quietly, making my last scramble for the top. It was all on this now. I had to make it. I had to!
You could only imagine my relief when my dirty fingers touched that post. “You made it!!” a voice said. It was someone I knew, maybe Finn. I plonked down happily, my head hanging down to greet the disgusting-tasting dirt as I began waving my torch again.