A rush fills me up as I knock on the front door of my friend's house. I had been counting the days until this event. The cool brisk air makes my mood even lighter than it already was. This party is going to be fun. My friend who is hosting the party had said to me the previous day that we're going to play a massive game of manhunt all over his neighborhood. When I heard this, I immediately started coming up with strategies for the game. I’m still doing that when I look up at the sky and notice the full moon. “Cool,” I think to myself.

When my friend opens the door and invites me in, I almost smile. As I close the door behind me, my friend heads towards the basement. I follow him through the hallway and down the stairs. As I am following him, I hear laughter and I start to anticipate an exciting night. When I get to the basement, people greet me and I begin to start socializing. After about ten minutes, the host makes an announcement, "Ok everybody, we are going to go outside and play manhunt. Start heading upstairs." When he goes up, everybody follows. I can't stop thinking how much fun this is going to be. When everyone gets outside, the host divides us into teams. After everyone is in groups, the host announces, "Runners will start on the count of three. Three, two, one…BEGIN!"

A couple of friends and I head off toward our old elementary school. I can hear the pounding of my feet launching off the ground. We hop fences and run through peoples' yards. Laughing and screaming our heads off we manage to evade the opposing teams. Eventually, we hop an old, rickety, wooden fence and stop to catch our breath. We sit on the cold, damp ground. The smell in the air is of wet grass and old leaves that have been around all winter. After we are done panting and wheezing, we get up to go. That is as far as we get when we all hear a "click" and a raspy old voice yells, "Get off my property you dang kids!" I gaze out into the darkness and can make out a figure holding an object under his arm.

"Is that a gun?" I whisper, more to myself than anyone. The sounds of a few dogs approach us, getting closer and closer by the second. "Run!" we all shout.

As fast and agile as panthers, everyone hops the old wooden fence and sprints in the direction of the party. I am dodging trees and climbing over fences along the way. I just want to get through all the back yards as quickly as possible. I can feel my heart beat as if it is going to come right out of my chest. As I am running, I look up and see the full moon again. I almost laugh because I remember that only a few hours ago I was up looking at it safely. It doesn’t seem cool any more.

A thought then comes to me. How could someone point a gun, or any weapon, at kids? What kind of crazy old man is he? He could have just banged on something and made noise. That would have gotten us out of his yard at top speed. Pointing a gun was not necessary. That thought replays in my head over and over again to the point where I’m starting to wonder what really happened. Did I imagine it?

When we get to the house, we run inside and slam the door behind us. All of us flop down on the safety of the comforting, carpeted floor. The event just keeps playing and playing in my head like a broken record, only this one is scratched. I have to ask my friends what just happened. We all agree we heard the click, and definitely the dogs. I guess it really did happen.

After a little while, the other guys start to come back in. No one asks us why we are already inside. They just head back down into the basement. After everyone is gone we are the only ones upstairs. A couple more minutes of silence go by until my friend says, "Well, it was great until manhunt." We all kind of laugh, but honestly, that was the scariest moment of my life.