You never were much for games. But panting in that bush, braced against its narrow trunk as its tangled weave of branches presses into you painfully, you’re going to feel more alive than you have in years. It’ll take an effort not to laugh out loud at the rush of hiding, of being hidden.
You’ll stifle all emotion, though. You’re in this to win it. You didn’t write your crazy uncle’s will, but you’re sure as shit going to adhere to it because that’s what he would’ve wanted and you stick through to the end for family.
Unfortunately all the money he promised you can’t cure your tuberculosis, and you’ll start coughing up a storm and fall out of the bush. Your sister will run up to where you’ve fallen, brandishing a shovel and strike you in the skull until you die.
Those are the rules of the game, and you’d have done the same to her were your circumstances reversed. You just hope she uses some of that sweet sweet money to buy you a nice tombstone.
Congratulations on Losing at Hide and Seek!
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