In my dormitory (and, indeed, all of the dormitories on the north side of campus), there is a tradition of, on people's birthdays, throwing them, at midnight, into a fountain that lies between two dorms. Prior to being thrown in, the person to be thrown in usually hides and, potentially, uses various methods to deter those hunting him.
On this day, it was my quasi-birthday.
I started off by going to the communal bathroom on my floor. I shut one of the toilet stalls, locked it, then crawled out from beneath. Someone else had locked himself in a stall once in an attempt to hide, so I thought I might be able to throw them off my trail for a few second. I then slathered myself in shampoo (I was shirtless) in order to hinder my hunters' grips on me as they tried to take me the 50 yards to the fountain; if I were to struggle, it would be exceedingly difficult to hold on.
Then, I proceeded two floors down-to the sixth floor-to turn on a shower, while taking great care to make sure that nothing was on the shelves in the foyer to that shower stall that might indicate that someone was legitimately taking a shower in there. However, a wrench was thrown in my plans. One of the people who I knew was to be amongst my pursuers came to that bathroom, as the bathroom on his floor is, thanks to the floor's nature as a party floor, not the best of places to defecate. However, this was well before the hunt traditionally began, so he said "hello", and went to the toilet stall, though he was clearly wondering why I lacked a shirt. The moment that I saw that his feet were in a position that indicated he was sitting on his porcelain throne, I ran out of the bathroom while laughing, at which point he let out a profanity or two, as both of us knew that he would be unable to follow me.
I then went down one floor-to fifth-and attempted to do that which I had previously intended to do: simply turn on a shower, which I promptly did.
After completing this task, I ran straight down the stairs to the basement, where I found a rather eccentric acquaintance of mine studying for an organic chemistry exam. I asked him whether he would tell my pursuers if I were to crawl into a drier or washing machine, and I also asked whether said driers or washing machines would actually be able to hold my weight (I weigh 150 pounds). He said it was unlikely that he would tell, and it was also unlikely that said machinery would be able to hold my weight.
As a result, I asked him if he would let me into the music practice room, which he did. To my surprise, it was an extremely cluttered room that appeared to be used by most as a storage room. In the corner was a rather large square of foam padding, so I turned out the lights-making it pitch black-and made my way over to said corner and covered myself with the padding. There, I waited. I could hear voices from outside, but due to the padding, I could not hear them well. After what felt like thirty minutes, I heard a voice outside-it was quite clearly the voice of the individual who had aided me. I put every last bit of my will into hearing what was being said. I was able to discern my conspirator saying "that way". I hoped to god that I had not been sold out and betrayed. The few seconds following seemed like hours. I could feel my own heart beat, I could feel every bit of dried shampoo on my body, I could feel every last hair on my head, hear every last sound from both within me and outside of me, and then I heard footsteps-footsteps dying away towards the stairs, which lay on the opposite side of the basement from where I hid.
Then, however, I heard them come back, and I heard a rather heated exchange of words between my conspirator and my pursuer. I heard doors all over the basement open, then close. The sounds slowly but surely came nearer and nearer. Eventually, they came to the door of the music practice room. I heard the door open, and I saw the lights turn on. I discovered then that I had two pursuers-one said to the other "Alex, it doesn't look like he's in here. Let's keep going." Alex then replied, saying "One sec. Let me just double-check."
I could hear him kicking over piles of what could best be described as "junk", and the sounds of his kicking came progressively nearer and nearer. I eventually realized that he was almost within arm's reach of me, though neither of us could see the other. I then jumped up and threw the pad under which I was lying in the direction I could best tell he lay in. I heard him say a variety of profanities as he became ensconced in the foam pad. I knew that if I had any window of escape, this was it. I ran as best as I could to the door, but I tripped over a chair. Alex and my other pursuer capitalized on this and ran out the door and did their best to keep it shut. I pulled with all of my might, but I could not open the door more than 25 degrees-not quite enough for me to slip through.
I heard them calling to their aid all of those who were hunting me. I knew that they would be at the door at any moment, and, when that happened, it would be game over. I waited thirty seconds, knowing that that would not be quite enough time for the other hunters to get there, but enough time for those blocking my exit to grow complacent. Then, I placed my foot against the wall next to the door and pulled. The door opened to 45 degrees, but I could not keep it open as I tried to slip through it. I got pushed back into the practice room, from which there was no other escape.
A minute or two later, I heard many voices-almost a dozen-from outside the door. All had come to throw me into the fountain. Then, rather than pulling on the door, I tried to keep it shut. However, against the strength of almost twelve college men, I could not prevail. I retreated to behind the door, knowing that, there, they could only take me on one at a time. As the door opened, they sent in the three biggest and strongest of the hunters to drag me out from my final refuge. As they came in, the door shut, and they all proceeded to attempt to drag me towards the door. They did not succeed.
However, they were able to drag me from my refuge, and that was enough. They called for backup and the entirety of the force hunting me came through the door and started to carry me to the elevator. Since they could not all hold on to me at once, only 8 of the 12 carried me at any given time-two on each leg, one on each arm, one on the back (one arm under each arm pit), and one on the midsection. I decided that it would be for the best if I were to simply not fight as they took me to the elevator; I needed to catch my breath.
The moment the elevator hit the first floor, however, I struggled to stay within the elevator, using all the strength I had to hold onto the railing within it. I was able to hold out for about ten seconds before they dragged me out. Once I was in the lobby, I started thrashing around, like a sidewinder snake, which proved to be rather effective. Due to the shampoo, which had started to become increasingly slippery due to my sweat, no one could keep a solid grip on me. I broke free from many people's hands, but there were always more hands to fill in the gaps made. They dragged me outside.
About halfway to the fountain, I realized that some of them were getting fatigued due to my incessant thrashing. As a result, I decided to stop for five seconds, after which I came back with a vengeance. None could keep their hold on me. I broke free of those holding onto my legs, pushing one of them to the ground. I then proceeded to gain some footing, which ended up being on the person I had just temporarily incapacitated. With footing, I was able to break free of those holding onto my arms, upper chest, and midsection. However, because I was still surrounded, I did not get far. I was simultaneously tackled by 11 people, with the individual who had acted as my foothold still beneath me. With this, they were able to get ahold of me once again. At this point, I knew I was doomed; I had put all the effort I would possibly be able to muster into an escape and failed.
As they carried me closer and closer to the fountain, I fought again and again, with varying degrees of success. Twice, I kicked away three of my captors, but I was never able to capitalize on this; the rest of them had become too much for me to break free (I had worked out earlier in the evening, so I was rather fatigued). Many more times, I kicked away one or two of my captors.
However, at the critical moment, just as I was about to be thrown in the fountain, I got a lucky break. I was able to break free of those holding my arms, which I then used to break free of those holding my chest and midsection, and, from there, I was able to break free of those holding my legs. However, this left me lying on the ground, which is a position highly inconducive to escape.
Thankfully, though, there was still much unused shampoo all over my body and arms. As they tried to lift me off the ground, they couldn't. My arms and legs kept slipping through their hands, as I had become far sweatier than before, and they didn't have pre-existing grips any more. However, one had the idea to pick me up from beneath, which proved to be the nail in my coffin.
After three heaves, into the fountain I went.
After came the traditional humping by the individual who got thrown in, but that is a story for another day.
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