“MUMMY!” he screamed, louder and more frantically as his fear and hysteria rose. “MUMMY!”
He ran, tears streaming down his face, nose running profusely and crying out all the time. He turned and circled, running this way and that, but it was no good. He was lost. He did not know where he was or where he should be going. This game of Hide-and-Seek Tig had gone horribly wrong.
His mother had tried to tell him. Had warned him not to run too far away when he was hiding. To stick to the trees by the clearing she was counting in. And for the first few times they played he had stuck to that agreement. But then he figured that it was a little too easy for his mum to catch him. That if he strayed just a little then maybe he could beat her. She would have to give up and he would win. But he had strayed too far. Something had spooked him and he had darted further into the trees. And now he was lost. Lost and afraid.
Despair began to overwhelm him. Fatigue took its toll as he cried and ran haphazardly. Finally he collapsed in a heap on the ground, exhausted. He had no more energy to run. Sobbing, his eyes closed tightly as he wished hard for his mum to find him, wherever she was. He would never disobey her again. He just wanted his mummy back.
When was the last time you got lost? Was it an enjoyable experience, or a stressful one? Tell us all about it.