Truth or Dare
By RML
- 2019 reads
I sit in Alan's basement. It's dark, lit only by a crappy lamp that says "groovy" in big green letters on the lampshade. The entire room looks like it popped out of the 60's, robbed the 70's, then gave birth to the 80's with some druggy as the father. It probably used to be Alan's dad's room, before he passed away. It's funny how Alan made this his party room. I guess he thought his dad's ghost didn’t mind the use of drugs and underaged drinking. Alan and I form a circle on the floor with a few friends: Chase, Braden, Troy, Jen, and Anne. We're playing truth or dare, and it's Troy's turn. He's giving Alan a dare. "I dare you to...lick the wall!" Troy says with a smirk. Everyone laughs.
"Troy, that is the stupidest dare ever, you suck at this game," replies Alan. He walks over to the nearest wall and gently touches his tongue to the surface. Then, he walks back to the circle. "Ok, my turn." He says. "Hmmmm, Sam!" His head whips towards me, and he's grinning from ear to ear. "Truth or dare?" For a split second my eyes shift to Anne. No way I'm doing truth.
"Dare," I reply. His smile widens. Shit.
"I dare you to break into Crazy Cam's house." He says. Big shit. I’m in big shit.
"What? Are we all gonna shlep over there? C'mon man, gimme a different one." I say this in a light manner, but it's almost too light, and I see Alan glance at my fingers sporadically tapping my leg.
"Hell no." He replies. "Let's go guys." We all get up and go through the door in the basement that leads outside. We walk a few blocks down to Crazy Cam's blue trailer house. There's a hole in one of the walls, and the whole thing looks like it might collapse at any minute. I try the door. Locked.
"It's locked," I say.
"So, break the window," Alan replies, as if it was such an obvious and simple solution. I look to my friends but they don't say a word. They continue to stare at Alan as if he'll tell them when to breath next.
"Fine." I pick up a rock from the ground and chuck it at the window, immediately after clutching my thick sweatshirt, as if to reassure myself that it'll prove as protection against the glass. I here big footsteps coming from in front of me and turn around to see my friends are long gone. Fuckers. I immediately run after them.
They had a head start, and I'm falling behind. The pang in my knee just pisses me off and I cringe as it pops. My breathing starts to get heavier, my vision is beginning to blur, and I can here the methodic footsteps right behind me. I pick up some shouting but can’t understand the words. Quickening my pace, I encourage myself in my mind, “C'mon Sam, not much farther.” Damn, what inspiration. My lungs and nose start to burn in the cold, and the pollen in the air gives me a massive headache. All I can think about is how angry I am at my friends for ditching me, how it hurts more and more when my feet slap the ground, and how my pocket knife is sitting in my third drawer down to the left, under some boxers. I have nothing to defend myself with.
I take a left. Good, almost there, but I don't know how much longer I can keep up like this. Part of me just wants to give in, to let Crazy Cam beat the shit out of me, but I think about how pissed I am at my friends. The anger soon turns into frustration, but I continue on as a tear runs down my cheek. I can see Alan's house. 40 feet...20...15...10...5...I run into the door, and turn the handle at the same time. As I close the door and lock it I can hear laughter. Fucking laughter. Those assholes find it funny that I almost got hospitalized. I swear the things I'll say to Alan, do to Alan.
"Worked up quite a sweat there man, almost thought he'd getchya!" Alan chuckles.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" Before he can answer I grab his shirt, pull him in a closet, and shut the door. "What the hell man?" I shout, and shove him against the wall.
"Calm the hell down Sam! Nothing happened, it's just Truth or Dare!" He gets off the wall, and straightens his jacket.
"Yea, well no more Truth or Dare!" I shout back, pissed that he brushes this off so easily.
"Fine then, I'll just tell her." My stomach drops. “I wonder, what do you think she’d do if she found out? I mean if I found out you were a murderer -" He smirks and I have to look away. "I would probably tell the Sheriff, but... her dad is the sheriff, or I guess he was." He laughs a bit. "See, I don't know if you've heard, but he passed away. Real sad -" He grabs my chin and forces eye-contact. "He was a great man." I tear Alan's hand away and he leaves the closet.
Anne looks at me as I rejoin the circle. “What was that all about?”
“Yeah.” Troy joins in. “What, did you guys hook up or something?” The entire circle bursts out laughing, including Alan.
“I mean he tried to, but I told him he wasn’t my type...or the right gender.” Allen says as he turns the joke solely on me.
I hate these fucking kids...hate them.
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Comments
I like the claustrophobia of
I like the claustrophobia of this friendship group, great descriptions. (You change the spelling from Alan to Allen).
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Bullies who pass everything
Bullies who pass everything off as fun, and everyone thinks the joke's so great, as London as its not on them. I hate people like that, but I liked the story - and your writing.
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nice one, lots of personality
nice one, lots of personality in your writing :-) lines like 'looks like it popped out of the 60's, robbed the 70's, then gave birth to the 80's' really sparky and add lots to your style. well crafted intense sequence in the middle, nice unsettling use of movement, sound&reactions
ellipses three dots
what the hell man a question so ? instead of ! 'l yelled-' or whatever to maybe convey the shout...
enjoyed, like the spark in your writing and well-done dark moments :-)
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