“I dare you to try and throw the dart in my leg” he said as we played on the stoep.
I didn’t quite know this punk-ass kid, a distant family member; and quite frankly, I had my own demons…I thought nothing of the dare…
I stood there, looking at his “she won’t do it, she’s a girl” smile. I took two steps back, took the dart between my thumb and forefinger. I marked my target, his left thigh…His obnoxious male attitude reflected all the things I detested at the time.
Three seconds later I heard a piercing cry! “Mooommmmmy!!” The point, perfectly placed in the flesh of his thigh…his fist clenched in agony around the cold silver barrel…
His mom came out as he freed the dart from his leg. “He dared me” was all I mumbled as I walked back inside.
That was the last time I held a dart in my hand, the one and only time I accepted a dare…I was 13 years old.
“Truth or Dare”, is this week’s title of a tandem blog, 3 bloggers 1 title. All published on the same day at the same time. Read my fellow tandem blogger’s interpretation by following the below links. Comments are daring!
Celeste: Surviving Jonkersville
Faziela: Chasing Dreams – our guest Blogger this week 🙂
At least yours was a dart. In my case I had a scissor. Very similar scenario. Also at 13. Mine didnt end well though. Eeeek my post on this topic is probably way too long! But glad I could join you ladies 🙂
Thanks Fazila. What is it with 13???
Your post was great!
I could never resist a dare and doubt that I’d have been able to resist throwing that boy with a dart. He asked, didn’t he? Lol.
Great post Chev. 🙂
Yip, he sure did ask for it…and that is why I don’t participate in dares…or truths for that matter (you never quite know what will crawl out of my deep dark closet lol!