The Mating Run by Leeka

Game

The forest stretches out endlessly, the trees standing tall and imposing.

I follow the map, its numbers and lines guiding me through the forest. The air is cool against my skin as I move with purpose, my footsteps soft against the earthy ground.

The map leads me deeper into the heart of the forest. I squint at the map, trying to decipher its cryptic instructions. The trees seem to close in around me, their branches interlocking like a maze.

As I navigate through the darkness, a clearing emerges before me. Moonlight spills through the gaps in the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor. The map directs me to a specific spot, and I feel a sense of anticipation.

I reach the designated location, and my eyes scan the surroundings. The numbers on the map point upward, towards a tall tree that towers above the others. I crane my neck, trying to see what the map is leading me to.

And there, high up in the branches, I spot it – a shack.

The tree stands like a sentinel, its trunk sturdy and unwavering. I wonder how I’ll reach the top, but the map insists this is where I need to be. The forest, once at place of mystery, now feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

I take a deep breath and begin to climb.

The bark is rough against my palms, but determination fuels my ascent. Each branch becomes a foothold, and I pull myself upward, higher and higher. The night. air grows cooler as I climb, the moon watching over me like a silent guardian.

The shack comes into view, nestled among the leaves and vines that act as nature’s camouflage. It’s decent–sized, blending seamlessly with the foliage. Tall leaves and long vines drape over it, concealing it from prying eyes.

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08:32 Sat, 9 Mar N

Game

Game

88%

The forest stretches out endlessly, the trees standing tall and imposing.

I follow the map, its numbers and lines guiding me through the forest. The air is cool against my skin as I move with purpose, my footsteps soft against the earthy ground.

The map leads me deeper into the heart of the forest. I squint at the map, trying to decipher its cryptic instructions. The trees seem to close in around me, their branches interlocking like a maze.

As I navigate through the darkness, a clearing emerges before me. Moonlight spills through the gaps in the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor. The map directs me to a specific spot, and I feel a sense of anticipation.

I reach the designated location, and my eyes scan the surroundings. The numbers on the map point upward, towards a tall tree that towers above the others. I crane my neck, trying to see what the map is leading me to.

And there, high up in the branches, I spot it – a shack.

The tree stands like a sentinel, its trunk sturdy and unwavering. I wonder how I’ll reach the top, but the map insists this is where I need to be. The forest, once at place of mystery, now feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

I take a deep breath and begin to climb.

The bark is rough against my palms, but determination fuels my ascent. Each branch becomes a foothold, and I pull myself upward, higher and higher. The night air grows cooler as I climb, the moon watching over me like a silent guardian.

The shack comes into view, nestled among the leaves and vines that act as nature’s camouflage. It’s decent–sized, blending seamlessly with the foliage. Tall leaves and long vines drape over it, concealing it from prying eyes.

O

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08:32 Sat, 9 Mar

Game:

If not for the map, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

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on a sturdy platform of

cautiously, my senses on high

hovering over the doorknob. The night is silent around me, and a sense of anticipation hangs in

but think back to that first attempt at finding a hiding spot. The moment when I thought I could outsmart the game, evade the

conjure the memory. The forest was different then, a place of potential rather than confusion. I had found a secluded nook, a spot

sense

everything’s a

ruined shit for

hidden, tucked away in that quiet corner of

mated right now, entwined with someone in the name of

ancient tradition?

would things have unfolded differently?

have been spared the confusion, the chaos, the

know, and that uncertainty gnaws at

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the

from me night. He took away my right to choose, to decide my own fate in this twisted game

about the what–ifs, the alternate paths

knot tightening in my chest. I hate that I don’t know. I hate that Victor, in his arrogance, decided to play puppet master with our

is different. It’s smaller, cozier, but

air–conditioning.

catch sight

to swallow me as my eyes widen in shock. He’s laughing at some joke, the sound echoing in the small space,

irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

up, his

a smirk that doesn’t sit well with me. The magazine drops

to drop by,” he says, exhaling a plume of smoke. “What took

My mouth opens but nothing comes out, my entire body is trembling with anger as I look. around the shack that he’s in.

anger they churn within me like a storm. The contrast between the

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Garne

little haven is too much

to express the intensity of my

a mockery of our struggles, feels suffocating. I glance around, trying to take in the audacity of it all. It’s not just comfort; it’s excess. The incap amount of food, the electricity, the television–it’s as if he’s on a lavish vacation

see the bounty of food neatly organized on a shelf. Cans, fresh produce – things I haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity. The

a buffet.

me with an expectant smile. “Impressive, right? I guess my father must have told some of the restaurant owners outside that

than happy

trapped in my throat, suffocated by the intensity of my anger. I want to scream, to unleash the frustration that’s been building

“Feel free to make yourself

plea for him to stop treating everything like a joke. But he’s too wrapped up in his amusement, too blind

within me.

the shack. “Oh! And

I’ll get bored almost immediately without any tv. He couldn’t give me a phone but I guess this should be

on me, the absurdity of it all amplifying my frustration. I glance at the television – al luxury I hadn’t even dared to dream

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from the mini–fridge, still laughing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Alina. Relax. It’s not everyday where we don’t have to work. Might

it across the room, to shatter the illusion of comfort that Victor has created. But force myself to

the shack. “And over here, we have a fully stocked pantry. I made sure we won’t run out of supplies anytime soon. You know, Otta stay well–fed

food, the excess – it’s a slap in the face. I think. about the meager rations we scrounged for in the forest, the hunger that gnawed at our stomachs. Victor’s

arrogance.

a bag of chips and opens it with a casual flourish. He flips throught channels on the television, the images