Fear seized me and I did not want to cross the street. Chris got to the bus shelter easily, slipping past the chasers who had brightly colored pink ribbons on their arms. But I could see them, watching me intently.
I wanted to flee, run to the other end of the Mason Green. But I did not want to be alone—I needed his help to get through this mess. The darkness was overwhelming.
So I called him—he was less than 100 feet away. But I was trapped. They could see my blue ribbon on my arm.
In North Beach only a few hours earlier, a few chasers slapped their hands firmly on me as if I hadn’t seen them. They always went after the weak ones—and they were right. I was slower physically, uncoordinated with my feet and untrained in stealthily moving.
“TAG!” they yelled.
Chris responded had calmly responded, “Safe zone.”
They backed off.
But here I was standing on the outskirts of the Marina Safeway, unable to move. Uncertain. How do I get to the bus shelter without being tagged?
Chris waved me over, but it seemed like I was doing something wrong as I was stepping over the dirt. I didn’t understand…and suddenly I saw figures moving toward me. I was instantly went back to the sidewalk—a safe zone, flying into not one, but two chasers. They grabbed me and instantly I was in a different zone, yelling and screaming. Literally kicking my legs and arms to get out of the grasp. And oddly enough, I also bit down. Sharp pain shot upward from my knee and I collapsed on the ground, writhing and crying in pain.
I saw in the distance that the commotion allowed Chris to escape and he came over to my aid, rubbing my knee. He helped me to my feet.
“Um, I guess that I was going to let her go…” one chaser said.
As the scene calmed back down to it’s just a game, I mumbled an apology, “Sorry about biting you.”
“I wasn’t even going to mention that,” he responded. “Thanks for the bite mark.”
In embarrassment, I limped with Chris around the corner, heading in an opposite direction, out of the commotion, out in the open…just glad that I learned that I never go down quietly. Ever.