Dare

(dâr)
verb -To challenge (someone) to do something requiring boldness

"Where's Lucy?" Dave asked me as I trudged inside. He balanced a bowl of Cheerios, half on the kitchen counter, half on his knee. I shrugged my shoulders in response.
"James, you have to look out for her more. She's only 8" Dave sounded like dad. Another shrug. "What's up with you anyway?"
"Nothing"
"DAVE....DAVE..." a high pitched squeal ran past me.
"Did you miss me?" Lucy flashed her cutest smile.
"Always" he replied, ruffing up her golden curls.
"Jaaaay-mes" she whined, turning back to me. "Why didn't you wait for me? I dont like walking alone Jaaaay-mes."
"Well I do" I glared into her small blue eyes, the same blue eyes that Dave and I had. Her puzzlement was obvious. "Fine, tomorrow" I resigned, "We can walk together"
"Yay! I love you James"

"Hey Kellie, I missed you last night" Boy did I sound pathetic. "Was heaps of fun, but I'm sure you'll make the next one. It's James by the way, Dave's brother. Um, bye" As soon my phone clicked shut I wished I could take the message back. Talk about sounding desperate.
"What was that all about?" Dean asked, taking a long drag on the cigarette.
"You know Kellie, short, brown hair, butterfly tattoo on her neck"
"Nah, doesn't ring a bell."
"Well, she's smokin'"
"Out of your league for sure" Dean laughed, "No girl wants a Rubik cube genius. Full stop."
"I'm not a fricken Rubik cube genius, I just used to solve them as a kid, as in no longer. And by the way be careful where you put that thing, " I motioned to the cigarette, " any burn marks and my dad will friggen rip me to pieces."
"All right, settle down hot shot, what you going to do about this Kellie anyway?"
"Dunno" I lay back down across my bed. Faint outlines of those glow in the dark stars were the only thing that distinguished my bedroom's ceiling from any other in the house. Mum had put them up when I had, as many other five year olds, wanted to be a astronaut.

As soon as the alarm rang for 8:30 Dean and I jumped up. Ready to roll for another night, we expertly climbed out the window, dropping onto the irregular grass below. Silently we crept downthe driveway and around the corner. Darkness hadn't fully descended over Mitchelstown, the god-forsaken town my family had decided to move to 7 years earlier. The park was only a few blocks away, and while it now was stripped of the monkey-bars, slide and see-saw due to some councilor's idea of safety, a pair of swings still stood in the middle of a sandy area. We moved towards the one picnic table that remained, joining the three other people who sat there. "I reckon we settle it tonight" I could hear Tommo's voice firmly instruct the others.
"Settle what?" I asked.
"Sorry mate, this doesnt include you." Tommo's face was shadowed.
"I just thought..."
"You thought wrong." I was relatively new to this group, Tommo was a legend in the area. Silence enshued. "So you ready?"
"Ready for what?" I looked to Dean who had suddenly found his shoes very interesting.
"If you want to be one of us, you have to prove it" a hint of malice came out as Steve, Tommo's right hand man replied.
"You have to do anything we say" whined Boston. Boston wasnt his real name but no-one ever dared to ask what was. Built like a tank, not only did he have the muscle but he had the skills to inflict a whole world of pain even sadists didnt want to touch.
"We decided since you used to be Jock Boy, we'd put those fast legs to work." Tommo smirked. I gulped, hoping I didnt betray the fear that was slowing instilling itself into my heart.

Dammit. Initation tests. I could just about knock Dean out for not giving me a heads up. Tommo isn't one of those guys you can back down from. Well best get this over with. I looked back at the car parked across the street in which Tommo, Boston, Steve and Dean were all staring at me. I crouched down hiding myself as best as I could from view of the faintly blue weather-board house. Here goes.

Sprinting while staying low I layed down firecrackers in the small tidily kept flower-boxes that adorned every windowsill. My was heart thumping, absolutely pounding, surely it was going to give out, and there I would be a sweaty teenage boy, dead on some stranger's doorstep. Once they were all placed I had to sprint back to the car.
"Good work, James, part one complete. Time for a shot." Tommo passed a clear liquid over, indicating for me to drink it.
"How many parts are there?" I asked again, choking on what had to be paint stripper. Tommo waved me off.
"Now you have to paint the side of the house." A bucket of black paint was passed through the back window by Steve. "Oh, and you have to paint this" Boston leaned over showing a graphic picture of what could be described as family jewels, with a title above proclaiming - I'M SMALL.
"Fine" I crept back up towards the house, it still wasnt completely dark. Furtively I painted as best I could, while wondering if Tommo knew the people that lived here. Again I sprinted back to the car.

"Nice" Boston was sniggering.
"This is the last part" Tommo's grey eyes bore into mine. "Clothes off."
"Excuse me?" Four pairs of blank eyes looked back, their chilling resolve wearing my sense of pride down. Despite it being a warm night, I stood there shivering trying my best to cover certain parts of me while I listened to what I had to do next.
"Shot" This time Dean passed over a mug of paint thinner. "Good luck" he mouthed. Backing away from the car, I spun and ran towards the house, praying that nobody was watching. Light damn it. Light. The firecrackers were damp and intsead of lighting easily smoke started to billow around while the fuses fizzled. After managing to set all the fuzes, I pelted towards the car. Three steps away, just three more steps.
"Sayonara bitch" Steve called out, before the car roared to life, and with it my clothes and my pals shot to the end of the street.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I wasn't even too sure of where the hell I was. The firecrackers were starting to make some noise. The street was so long, running to either end didnt seem to be an option. Instead I retreated to the tree I had originally hid behind. Think man, think. My eyes searched, darting this way and that, when they fell upon an open window on the second story. There stood a gorgeous girl in an almost see through nightie, her dark brown hair flowing from the slight breeze. She turned away to reach for something. That something evidently being glasses as when she returned, her eyes were framed by thick black rims. Our eyes met, and we both froze.

Hot

/hät/
characterized by a relatively or abnormally high temperature.


Algebra can kiss my ass. I know we have to learn it or whatever, but it can still kiss my ass. To top it all off I'm sure that clock has stopped working. It feels like this class has been going forever. I tap my pencil impatiently on the desk, hoping that my teacher will hear it and realise that we're all dying a little inside with every equation she teaches. Alas, she continues to spew boring information at her semi-conscious students and I too fall into a daze.

Outside the weather is scorching. You know that heat that feels like it radiates from everything? It's one of those days. I can't wait to get home and sit in front of the air conditioner, blasting it on full speed while my mother yells at me. Ahhh bliss.

The bell rings and I unstick myself from our cheap plastic school chairs and grab my bag. I'm on of the unfortunate children who has to walk home today due to my mother needing to earn a living and my lack of drivers license. I grab my half empty water bottle and scull whats left as I turn the corner towards home. At least its not exceptionally far to my house. I take a few short cuts and I can see heatwaves distorting the view of my house in the distance. A bead of sweat just tricked down my face. Great, I'm officially gross. I pass some neighbourhood kids playing in a sprinkler despite our water restrictions and a guy my age chucking stones in the gutter. "Good use of your time" I think as I step up to my house and open the door.

I throw my bag down and practically die right there on the couch. I know I'll be more comfortable out of my uniform and with the air con on but the effort seems excruciating now that I'm laying down. Instead I lie there in the heat until my mother opens the door and complains that I haven't done anything but wallow in self pity.

"Addison, get up. You look an absolute mess. Would it have killed you to have done some homework or helped out with dinner even a little?"

I sigh and sit up.

"My day was great thanks Mum, how was yours?"

"Fine." She completely misses my sarcasm. "I spent the whole day talking to an irate couple that insist they're being mistreated by the law because their neighbours are infringing on their property line." She grabs a coke from the fridge and sits down next to me.

"Fascinating," I say, grabbing the coke and taking a gulp.

Mum sighs and leans her head back against the couch. "What do you feel like for dinner?"

"Whatever."

That's pretty much our lives. Standard and boring. There's nothing extraordinary about us. Man and woman meet, woman gives birth, man runs for the hills, woman raises baby and child feels guilty for being alive for the rest of its life. And there you have it, our story. The funny thing about us is that we barely know each other. We go about our lives completely separately even though there's only two of us. I know nothing of my mother and she certainly knows nothing of me. We co-exist and it works for us. That happy family shit just isn't us.

I get up and have a shower. By the time I get out the water is stone cold and I am feeling so much better than when I first got in. I get dressed into my nighty and examine my face in the mirror and see that I somehow drew on my face during the day with a blue pen. That's the bad thing about not having friends. No one tells you when you look like an idiot, you have to find out on your own. Naturally though by then the damage is done so the lack of friend cycle continues. I grab the soap and rub a bit on my face to get rid of the ink.

I shouldn't say I'm friendless, its not entirely true. Two girls who go to my school sit with me at lunch and do obligatory friend crap with me. Our friendship is purely superficial. You know? One of those friendships where you're only friends because you don't have a choice? Its a social necessity to have friends at my school and we were just unfortunate enough to be the shy kids on the first day that couldn't get a word in edge ways. So we retreated to the back of the class where we sat together until one of us decided to speak. It's been the same ever since.

I know my world isn't very interesting, but I kind of like it. I've grown accustom to my prison and I don't really want to change it now. There's something comforting in boring, mundane stability. Its what makes the world go round I guess.

I realise its time for dinner and head downstairs to the kitchen. Mum has made a salad consisting of soggy tomato and old lettuce, with a few chucks of beetroot and cheese thrown in for good measure. while I'm not particularly enthused about food today I eat it anyway to keep the harmony in the household. It's too hot for confrontation and I just want to go to bed. I finish up and say goodnight to Mum, who barely registers what I've said because she's watching the news.

I head up to my room and collapse on the bed.I consider doing homework but think better of it and lay staring at the light above my bed and watch a moth circle the bulb until I start falling asleep above the covers.

Outside there is a loud cracking noise and I jolt awake. I walk over to the window and open it, smelling smoke as I peer out.

Oh that is so not good.

Quiet

/ˈkwīət/
Verb: Make or become silent, calm, or still.

There’s not a lot to do here. I mean we’re not exactly rural but our town certainly doesn’t have entertainment in abundance. I generally spend my afternoons picking and destroying daisies down at the swing. The swing is my place. It’s a quiet, forgotten part of this town. Some kids attempted to burn it down about six years ago and after that no one came here anymore. They did a pretty good job too, considering all there is left is the metal part of the see-saw and the charcoaled swing set. Everyone knows you if you grew up here. Everyone. You can’t walk out the door without someone stopping to talk to you. It’s the reason I have to get up half an hour earlier to go to school. Incessant chit-chat time.

The first thing you should know about me is that I am not a social person by any means. I’m ridiculously shy and always have been; a concept my mother seems to be unable to grasp. She feels bad cause I’m an only child and she thinks not having a father around has stunted my emotional growth or whatever. So my whole childhood was spent having awkward play-dates with kids who couldn’t run fast enough when their mother told them that they were coming to my place. Going to high school hasn't really changed a whole lot, except that Mum is now on the Parents and Friends committee in an attempt to try and get me to go to social events. It’s still my dying wish to shove those tiny cucumber sandwiches down those people’s throats and tell them their daughters have been shagging the rugby team behind their backs.

Anyway this is completely irrelevant. I didn’t write this to tell you about the swing or about my mother. I want to tell you something. It’s not particularly interesting. It doesn’t have that mind blowing edge that every film these days seems to need. However, it’s my story. It’s our story. How I met him and how everything came to be. The day we found it.

Beer

(bîr)

noun = A fermented alcoholic beverage fermented brewed from malt and flavoured with hops

I really didn't care for beer, especially warm beer from a plastic cup.

"Oi, Dave, why don't you ever pick up the good shit" I slurred in the general direction of my older brother.

"Next time buy your own then." came the reply through the haze, as well as the sniggers.

"Cheers" I raised my cup, slopping most over me and the few people who were still brave enough to be standing next to me. Techno music thudded my ears, as I pondered a stain across my new pink shirt. Pink because Kellie had told me it took a confident man to pull off pink, and I dearly wanted to be Kellie's confident man.

"Shit" I half whisphered to myself, could it be sauce, friggen sauce so bloody hard to get out. I felt a hand clasp over my shoulder, and knew instinctively it was Dave's.

"I think you've had enough solider" always the big brother.

"I'm fine, let me be"

"I don't think so" he carefully removed the cup from my hand, "On your way."

Somehow I stumbled up the stairs, pushing past a tall blonde girl with puffy eyes. Sarah, I think, one of Tommo's girls. The cute ones always were. Removing my socks proved quite difficult as I teetered on the edge on the bed. Shiny black, friggen anklets that itched like crazy. Screw it. Socks could be dealt with in the morning.

I was three, and I was falling, slowly. My hands reached out holding tightly to the air above my head. The sinking swelled inside. Soon I would reach out and grasp something to stop me falling. "He's only little" a warm voice echoed. "He couldn't have known" another, more distressed. "It doesn't matter now" a third, more familiar. "I see the stars mummy, I see the stars" a younger me shouted gleefully. I could see my brown hair being ruffled by a solid hand. "Aunty is here, she's here" me again drifting off into the distance. "Come back" I shouted, "Come back!" But I was still falling, falling away.

The solid thud of my unconscious body hitting the floor drew back a foggy awareness that I had been dreaming. My nose was resting on a foul smelling object. Examining it closer it was my sock. Well at least thats one good thing that has already happened today. No need to remove or locate socks.