One of my most memorable heart pounding moments was when I was standing behind a building late at night while staking out the area to see if it was safe to venture down the hill onto campus, past a group of guards who were on a first-name basis with us, that I was determined to out-smart.
Flirting with the property line by kicking rocks down the hill with my foot, I look through the trees for movement. I hear feet plow through the leaves: there are two men approaching with flashlights and their voices are recognizable. âOkay,â I say under my breath. We can see them, and they cannot see us, but we are vulnerable if we move and are vulnerable if we do not and had ten seconds to figure it out.
We had to get as low to the ground as possible – it was a split-second decision – we have to lie beneath the lit windows of the building and look as non-human in form as possible. The light emitting from the windows would over-contrast their eyes and they would not see us.
I grab his arm and motion: âquickly and quietly remove your bag and lay against the building.â We hold our breath as the wind stops blowing. My head is pressed against the dirt as my heart beats to the rhythm of swift footsteps on gravel, muffled voices chattering, and cigarette smoke being inhaled as an ember falls to the ground, sizzling. Wide-eyed, I watch ants march past a blade of grass.
The men, three feet away, walked past us. I felt lucky they werenât looking or proud that I didnât give them a reason to. I wiped the dirt off my forehead and rolled over.
