The sun is making its way over the mountains, giving light to the sleepy village. There’s nobody around, just the odd car. I make my way past the little shops and houses that make up the main street. Once I get to the traffic circle I realise I don’t really know where I am going. In my hurry to be gone, I didn’t work out my destination. I don’t even have a plan. I’m hungry too. I sit on the curb and have one of my apples.

If I go east, it’ll be mountains and then the sea. If I go west, it’ll be the industrial areas, then the next town.

Then I have an idea. I have cousins in the fishing town on the other side of the mountain. My uncle, my mom’s brother, is always asking me to go and stay. I have three cousins in that family, though we hardly ever see them. Ever since my mother died, Dad finds it too difficult to visit. He says he can’t look at my uncle without seeing my mother.

I can stay with them. I can say that since Dad is in Cape Town, I thought it would be nice to finally come and see them.

You’re probably thinking, ‘If she was going to travel so far, why doesn’t she just call her uncle for a lift?’

The answer is, I don’t want to use my phone. Sometimes my phone updates my status without me knowing it is doing so, and I can’t risk Priscilla seeing where I am or where I am going. It will write ‘At such and such place’ without me giving permission.

I stand. I want to eat something more but I hold myself back. I don’t know how long I need my food rations to last me. I cross the freeway, and start my journey into the dark forest of the mountainside. I hike for a full three hours before stopping for a rest.

The sun is high in the sky now. It’s a humid day, and unexpectedly hot for the time of year. I’m so thirsty that I take an unexpectedly big gulp from my water, without meaning to. I shake the bottle. That was too big a sip, Olive, I tell myself. I mustn’t drink so greedily again. By now I am starving, so I allow myself half a peanut-butter sandwich. The peanut butter sticks to the roof my mouth, but I don’t want to waste more water washing it down.

I’m feeling drowsy and my knees feel wobbly from all the uphill. I’m not used to so much cardio all at one time. Just then I hear a dog barking. I poke my head out from behind the big rock I am leaning against and look around. A police officer is walking down the slope with a dog! The dog is pulling him too hard and he is slipping a little bit.

“Stadiger, slower, Tjoppie!” the man cries as the dog pulls him rapidly over roots and branches.

They stand in a little clearing. They can’t see me yet. There is an outcrop of rocks and bushes in the way, and they are higher up the slope than me. The dog sniffs the air eagerly. The policeman looks at his phone, then looks around.

The dog barks. It has caught my scent. I’m stuck – I want to run away, but if I do, they will see me. I’m planning what to do when I hear a voice over me:

“What are you doing here, little girl?”

I plaster an innocent look on my face and look up. The policeman is chubby, has straw-blonde hair, and has acne on his chin.

“Hello sir,” I say in my sweetest little-girl voice.

“I asked you a question,” he repeats. His dog, a medium-sized German shepherd, is sniffing my bag. I pray the policeman doesn’t ask to look inside. I put on an American accent. I know mine is good – I’ve tested it.

“I’m doing a project for school, for biology. I’m collecting leaves and flowers in the area. The project is about biodiversity.”

“What’s your name?”

My mind is quick. “Emma,” I say, confidently. “Emma Winters.” I randomly pick a leaf off the forest floor and look at it with mock-scientific interest.

“This is a police search area. You shouldn’t be here. There’s lots of vagrants and vagabonds in this part of the forest. It’s not safe, specially for a little girl.”

He’s used the words ‘little girl’ again. It annoys me, but I don’t show it.

“I’m sorry sir, I had no idea! Thank you for telling me.”

I stand up, and start to move downhill. I want to be out of sight of him as soon as possible.

“Go straight home,” the policeman orders. “And don’t let me catch you here again.”

I nod enthusiastically, pretending to be the most obedient little girl in the world. Then I turn on my heels and start skipping away, humming a little song.

As soon as I am out of sight of him I am able to relax a little. That was close. If he ended up wanting to escort me home, things could have gotten sticky. He’d hand me over to that sickening Priscilla like I’m a present wrapped with a bow.

The panic of almost being caught has made me desperately thirsty. For the first time on my journey I think I can hear flowing water. I think it’s my mind playing tricks on me, and a cruel trick at that – I’m thirsty, so it’s imagining a cool, icy stream. I shake my head, to dissolve the fantasy.

But I’m sure I can hear it now – the low gurgle of a stream. I follow the slope of the cliff for a bit, edging deeper into the depths of the forest. My heart leaps when I see it – a bright, shallow, little stream. I scramble over tree roots to get to it.

As soon as I am on the sludgy stream bank I dunk my whole head in. Then I swing my head back into the air, letting a rain of little droplets fall on my face, neck, shoulders.

It feels great. It clears my thoughts. It gives me strength to go on. I lower my face into the flowing water and in inhale great sips of delicious, cool water. I’ve never enjoyed the taste of water so much. I refill my bottle too.

By now it’s afternoon. I reckon it must be about 3 p.m. I’d better move faster – there’s only about three hours of sunshine left. I don’t want to think about what I’ll do when it gets dark. I just need to cover as much ground as possible in the next few hours.

I reach into my bag to pull out another apple. I munch on it thoughtfully, savouring the tangy fizz.

As I am standing there chomping, a new, unwelcome sensation comes over me – that of being watched. If you’ve ever felt this before, you’ll know what it feels like. Your skin kind of prickles. I look around, eyes widening. Who was that policeman looking for?

I listen. I just hear a few birds calling, plus a hoot of what sounds like an owl. I didn’t know owls came out during the day? The stillness of the forest gives me the creeps.

I muster my wits. For the tenth time that day, I tell myself: “Stop thinking so much. Just keep moving.” I want to have crossed the mountain pass by nightfall.

I make my way uphill. The path becomes steeper, more jagged. It’s tiring work, for my muscles and my mind – I need to watch my feet so I don’t slip.

I’m also watching the sun’s progress out of the corner of my eye. It’s still fully light, but the trees and shrubs are taking that golden colour they get in the afternoon. That means sunset has started saying: ‘I am coming’.

The feeling of having eyes on my back is still there. It makes me aware of listening – the sounds of my pulse, my breath, the crunch of my foot on little stones.

I pull myself upwards using plants and roots that stick out. I feel a bit like Lara Croft. The edge of the mountaintop, where it levels off into a little plateau, is in sight. ‘Don’t look down,’ is what I remember they always say in movies. I take the advice, and don’t. I scramble the last bit of terrain almost on all fours.

When I reach the mountaintop I want to whoop with joy. But I don’t, because I am still in stealth mode. Plus, your voice can really echo from a mountaintop, and I don’t want to announce to the world that I’m there.

I can see the sea. It is a beautiful band of sapphire blue, sparkling in the silvery light. To see it fills me with inexplicable joy. Thing are going to be different from now on.

A loud, angry voice snaps me out of my daydream.

“Hey!” the voice like sandpaper shouts. “I told you to go home!”

I look down the slope up which I have climbed, and I see the policeman advancing along a lower contour path, his dog barking now.

I can’t get caught! I won’t. Nobody is going to stop me from what I am doing. Not even the police.

I run.

***

Tell us: Have you ever disobeyed an authority, like a teacher, or a police officer? Have you ever been in a position where the authority was wrong, and you knew you were right?