My brother and I had hiding spots in the house, corners or nooks we could disappear to if we wanted. Mine was piled under blankets, in between the wall and the landing by the living room stairs. Dan's was under the coffee table, surrounded by pillows on all sides.
We went to our spots one night, didn't say a word. It wasn't a game and the babysitter wasn't a mean person. She left the room, and when she came back we were gone. I would peek out from blankets to see her running through the house, even ran around the outside of the house calling our names.
I got a feeling inside my stomach when hiding. Butterflies, this ridiculous excitement that felt like it would tear out of me if I didn't laugh or scream. Watching her fear and knowing how mad she would be when I finally revealed myself. But that's what it would take, I would have to reveal myself, I would have to end it. And I did. I was just a little boy.