The Dare
“Come on, John! Hurry up!” shouts Fred.
“Quit hassling me! Let me think!”
I can’t possibly do this. I have the championship soccer game tomorrow. The starting striker broke his leg, so my chance at fame grows bright.
“Fred, I can’t do this!”
“I did it! It’s not that bad.”
The gap between these two houses seems way too big for me. There is probably twelve feet below me, and that grass does not seem soft to me. I am inhaling and exhaling almost simultaneously. My brother Fred stands on the Robinson’s house, a colonial house with white siding, with that stupid smirk on his face. Fred wears his favorite plug earrings, which I are gross. Fred’s blonde, streaked brown hair doesn’t make him much easier to look at either. His fluorescent green shirt ties it all together; I wonder if he thinks my navy blue tee shirt and jeans look boring.
Luckily, our house gently slopes down, so I can keep my balance. The other roof looks fairly stable, as long as the black shingles don’t slide out from under my feet. Fred is just staring at me through his orange rimmed sunglasses.
“I’m getting this on video! I’m uploading this whether you jump or not!”
“I’m going!”
I get the best running start and leap over to the Robinson house. My foot slips on the landing, and the peak of the roof nails me in the chest. I begin to slide down, and the black shingles scrape my skin off. I look around for anything to stop my descent. Fred cackles, while I meet the edge of the roof. I kick my legs frantically. Finally, my white sneakers ram into the dirt ridden gutter, and I am safe. I rise slowly as not to lose my balance and glance at Fred.
“Dude, you look so stupid!”
Ignoring him, I traverse over to the ladder that we set up, and I climb down. Tears well in Fred’s eyes, and I stare at my feet as I climb down.