Truth or Dare

Truth or Dare epds1

“Whatever happens, always tell the truth.”

The girls didn’t know when was the first time they heard the mother say this. The earliest they recalled was when they were three and six. However, growing up hearing this, they never told a lie, especially to her because she wasn’t just teaching, she was a good role model. She wasn’t biologically a mother to the older one. She was a close family friend, but the kid’s heart saw her as a mother because she never treated her any differently than her own daughter. She taught her what’s in your heart is more important than what’s in your blood, so she was always the mother in her childhood memories. And the kid always saw herself being a daughter in the mother’s heart. Because she said so. And she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it, right?

The mother lived opposite from the girl’s house. She would often run across still wearing her pink barbie slippers and stay there. It was one of those nights, the mother came home later than the two little girls expected. The younger one who couldn’t sleep without her mother’s goodnight kiss was like a miniature interrogator, “Where were you?” she asked. The sternness in her voice would both scare you and make you laugh simultaneously. The mother would turn into a naughty little boy. She liked to act like that. Or was it the kids that liked seeing that face of hers? In a childish voice, she would say, “I have a confession to make”. You wouldn’t be able to make out which one was the mother and which one was the daughter if the little girl wasn’t wearing a diaper. “I went shopping without you”. Reproachful screams rose from the apartment. They weren’t old enough to appreciate her honesty. Or was it because they considered it normal?



When the kids grew up to be seven and ten, she was teaching them how to play ‘Truth or Dare’. The elder one heard the kids at school playing it but didn’t know what to do with it. Every question was just boring. “Mum, what would you not dare to do?” the little one asked her mother, as the greatest and most reliable source. “The most naked we are is when we are doing the things we do alone, and that is when we are the most vulnerable.” She read a lot of books. She was full of wisdom and stories, and she knew which words to use for the kids. These words were as if she was speaking to herself, or maybe it was for the kids to question when they grow up. Perhaps she knew they would remember her every word growing up because her words were words to their hearts. She took the girls to her bedroom, revealed brushes, lipsticks, mascaras and all the other stuff the kids couldn’t name individually but called ‘make-up stuff’ from the top drawer of her vanity table. She applied them all to her face one by one, didn’t even look at their direction the whole time, didn’t speak a word until she was done. That was the day the kids learned she would always abstain from putting on her make-up in front of others. Was she afraid of people catching a glimpse of her real self as she painted a new self? Or was it just a distraction from what really terrified her?



When the kids were ten and thirteen, the mother took the older one shopping. They bought her first heels. They weren’t expensive, but they looked fancy, they were lamé and were sparkly. She felt like a princess. But that was the mother’s speciality, she made her feel like the most precious person in the whole wide world. She and her sister, they were born into this world to make a change. But why weren’t they buying her younger sister heels? She didn’t even like heels as much as her sister did. “Because she is crazy about them and she has more than a 10-year-old should have.” That was comically true. But why wasn’t she with them? “Because no one is able to stop her from buying stuff.” That was also true, the girl thought. “I feel bad that we told her that I was going to the doctor’s,” she said, expecting the mother to say they did something bad and they would confess, apologise. “Little lies are necessary in life” was the answer, as she and her friend driving the car smiled at her through the rear-view mirror, smirked even. That day was the first time the girl saw something other than affection in her eyes. They left everything she bought in the car and brought in the purchases after the girls went to bed. She never got to show her sister what she bought that day. Would it upset her sister too much to know? Was it really necessary to lie?



When they were thirteen and sixteen, the older girl found a letter in her room. One the mother wrote when she was in primary school. When they were learning how to write letters, she became her pen friend. The girl remembered writing about the weird characteristics of her teachers at her new school and in the letter, the mother describes herself as a response.



“Sometimes a naughty boy, sometimes a rebel, sometimes a grumpy grandmother, sometimes a princess.”



The mother used to be an actress before the birth of her child, so the girl always assumed she was just describing the roles she played to entertain them, metaphors to her different moods perhaps. The girls never saw her act on anything official, but she told them about her days as an actress; the plays and tv shows she was in. But why wasn’t there any records or photos? It was funny to the girls of technology age how the mother didn’t exist on the internet. “My father gets angry” she would say with a hint of the childish tone in her voice. It was like they were growing up, but the mother was staying the same. Before the girls were able to question the fact that the grandfather was dead, she started telling them about how in France she had an elocutionist. They knew she spoke French very well, but this was the first time they ever heard about her going to France. When did she go? She told them she was the daughter of a prince. No matter how old they were, the girls still enjoyed her sudden breaks into characters, although it meant no certain answers to questions, they would forget about the questions, anyway.

In the same letter, the mother also said that she had a lot to tell the girl once she hit eighteen. The girl heard this a lot afterwards, every time she asked a question, and she waited patiently until that day came. She wasn’t there. What were all the things she collected over the years to tell her but never did? Yes, the woman wasn’t her mother, and she didn’t have to be there, and she always knew that, but she never felt it until that day. She wasn’t there to tell her, but her own mum said things, maybe not the things the woman would say, but the things she should have said. But the things the girl perhaps would never want to hear. Things. Words. Words that make and break worlds. Hearts.

No one knew who she was. She never broke out of character. She was always someone else, and while the girls thought it was a game, she never told anyone what was an act and what wasn’t.

She wanted her mother to be joking, but she wasn’t. She wanted to be in a nightmare, but she wasn’t. She woke up, but not from a nightmare but of a beautiful dream. That was the day she grew up.

The other girl, now sixteen, is still that woman’s daughter, but was she still the other girl’s little sister? Probably not. But she is still living in the shadow of lies. The older girl keeps one more secret for the woman she saw as a mother once, the woman she will never see again. What’s left in the mind’s eye is better not altered. Would it upset her too much to know? Was it necessary to lie?

We all have that one person who we’d trust with our lives, maybe we shouldn’t. Those questions I kept asking, do you want the answers? Yes, so do I. You’ll never know them because I’ll never know. If this was just a work of my mind, I would know the answers, but I don’t.

Now I’m just sitting by the threshold, looking at the door across, feeling an urge to run towards but I don’t have my pink slippers anymore and behind that door is empty and unfamiliar. “I love the truthfulness in your eyes. How easy you reflect your emotions in your eyes.” says the letter in my hand, I picked up in hopes of answers only to have more questions. Why did she like that? Was it because her own eyes were full of lies? Or was it because they seemed easy to break? Maybe that’s why hearts aren’t allowed to choose mothers the way they choose lovers and friends because mothers raise you to be who you are. So who am I if all I grew up with was just an illusion?

"Truth or dare," she asked, rosy lips curling over newly straightened teeth in the pale moonlight.

"Truth", the boy says, snickering while moonlight catches honeysuckle hair and eyes that glinted like sapphire.

"Hmph," The girl says, thinking of a worthy enough question to send the boy into a frenzied state. "What is your biggest fear."

He smiled shyly before speaking "Oblivion."

"Oblivion?" The girl questioned, a playful smile tugging at her lips "Why fear oblivion?"

He shrugged simply before rubbing his hands over a stained carpet. He clasped them in his lap before speaking. "It just doesn't seem right, you know? Everything being lost inside our own minds creating a fragmented reality."

She shook her head, not having the courage to tell him that the possibility of death being oblivion for her wasn't slim. But he was religious, she an atheist, both believing in different realms of death. It was probably the one thing that kept them apart.

"Truth or dare," he asked, though he already knew the answer before it came out of her mouth.

"Dare," the girl said, her voice lacking doubt and full of confidence.

"I dare you...", he paused to think of a good dare "To run around the neighborhood while screaming I have lice"

The girl opened her mouth in protest but thought better of it and headed outside. She unlatched the door and started running up and down the street while screaming "I have lice!" off the top of her lungs.

The boy sat there on the front steps recording it, laughing. They were the only two people awake in the neighborhood, but they wouldn't be for long.

A light flickered on in the house across the street. The girl immediately stopped running to stare at the house. The window opened and an elderly lady appeared.

She started wagging their finger at them and shouted something, but her voice was lost to the wind.

The two kids ran around the back of an unknown house, giggling. They stopped to catch there breath when the girl spoke.

"Truth or dare."

"Dare", the boy replied, a snarky look written across his face.

"You see that dog over there?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Lick it."

He smiled and trotted over to what appeared to be a sleeping dog lay. He crouched down and pressed his tongue up against its ear. The dog didn't respond.

The boy nudged the dog with his food and saw a gleaming pair of eyes. Eyes that had been rolled up into the back of its head.

The boy shouted and scampered away from it as fast as he could, the girl laughing behind him.

"What was it too much to handle?" The girl questioned, on the verge of hysteria.

"It's dead!" The boy said, still shouting "It's dead, it's dead it's dead! I just licked a dead dog!"

The girl continued to laugh while choking out an "I know".

"You knew!" The boy shouted, no longer surprised but now angry.

The girl nodded and continued to laugh hysterically.

"I don't want to be here anymore," the boy said, he turned around and started walking in the other direction."

"Wait!" The girl shouted, her laughing fit now over "It was just a joke ok? I'm sorry."

The boy shook his head but stopped walking. "Truth or dare."

"Truth", the girl said, her head bowed towards the ground and her hands clasped together in front of her stomach.

"What do you know about that dead dog"

The girl looked over her shoulder and then started speaking in a low whisper "Look, man, I don't know. His owner was kinda a creep. He never went outside and when he did he'd always say the weirdest stuff to you like "this ones gonna grow up to be a fine one" and then he'd laugh and walk away. Some of the neighborhood kids think he killed the dog and ate its insides. The dog stopped showing up at his house a few weeks before I found em here."

She looked up at the boy and waited for a response. But he simply shook his head and gestured for her to speak instead.

"Truth or dare," the girl sighed.

"Dare."

"Help me bury the dog."

"Huh?"

"You heard me," the girl said, trotting over to the dog "he's an eyesore, help me bury the dog."

The boy knew it was a bad idea, but a dare was a dare and he didn't want to seem chicken.

The girl took its front paws and the boy took its back and they lifted it. The scent of rotting flesh along with sour dirt filled his nostrils and he gagged, but the girl didn't seem to care. He looked down at the dog and saw that the dog had a huge gash in his stomach, which was leaking dirt and cotton, along with a trail of crimson and other unrecognizable features.

"What is that!" the boy yelled, letting go of the dog.

The girl didn't respond.

"That's it, I'm leaving."

The girl seemed to disappear and then reappear in front of him.

"No, you ain't," she said, thrusting the dog into his arms "a dare's a dare son, now help me bring this dog into the woods."

He was about to protest, but then she was gone again, heading towards the woods behind the line of houses they'd taken cover in earlier. He could feel something seep down into his clothes, but he decided to pay no mind into it.

They traveled deeper into the woods and stopped in a clearing,

"Here," the girl said. She then proceeded to crouch down onto the ground and hand shovel dirt out of what would become of the grave.

The boy put down he dog and started to help her, easily falling into the rhythmic feeling of dirt running in between his fingers.

It was near dawn by the time it was deep enough, the girl dragged the dog closer to her and reached inside of it. The boy sat there, mouth agape as she withdrew a beating heart.

The boy threw up on the ground next to him.

The girl picked off bits of cotton and such and threw them onto the ground, she then threw the heart onto the ground and licked her fingers and forearm clean.

The boy was about to speak, but the girl picked up the heart and thrust it into his mouth. The boy started to gag on dirt and the metallic scent of blood as he watched the girl smiling at him.

"Why" he managed to choke out.

The girl just simply smiled at him as she watched him slowly fade into oblivion. She then proceeded to cut open the dog and take out anything left inside of him.

She would feast later.

Once the hole was wide enough, she started the vigorous task of shoving the boy inside

of the dead carcass. The sight of blood seeping into eye sockets and filling his nostrils was so pleasing to her. Whatever didn't fit she just ended up ripping off.

She shoved the dog and the boy back into the deep grave and began the precarious task of re-filling it. There was never enough dirt.

Once that was done, she smiled and grabbed the dog's bloodied organs in her hand, and prepared to take them to the old man. She remembered what the man had asked of her earlier.

"I want that dog buried, and it's murderer in there with it. Oh, and I want some proof too!"

She smiled, knowing that the boy wasn't the real murderer, she just needed to trick the man into thinking that she didn't know who the real murderer was.

She walked along the sidewalk, slowly now, her stomach aching for a taste of the treats she had in her arms.

She'd have more once the man was dead.Playing truth or dare with some 'new' friends is itself a biggest dare ever which I accepted that day! I was new to the college and those students were already two to three years senior to me. Yeah, I know that they were not one of the raggers, but still were very new to me and from the first day they unexpectedly came close to me. I didn't know if they were pretending this for some plan or really they were interested in me. Well, seniors intented in me was like getting the throne at the first day in Kingdom! There were three of them, umm...Ramsy, Aden and... James. They were always within themselves and far from everyone else in such a way that when I asked anyone about three of them, people didn't even know them! After spending few weeks with one another we became friends... And one day at night they called me to play truth or dare with them. It was very normal for me as I had played that game many times before, but at midnight it seemed unusual to me. Warden of the hostel was strict enough to send me into prison even if I would just walk in the corridor in midnight...that's why it was definitely sure that I had to escape without letting him take the life out of me in a moment. Yes, I was planning this because they lived in a nearby block where nobody else lived. I knocked the door, which was already opened and saw pitch darkness in their room. I asked if anybody was there or there was any prank going on. Suddenly the lights turned on and I saw three of them sitting in the room with their expression telling me that they were waiting for me only. I entered the room and sat beside James. I still remember he was giving his usual dull smile. There was a small table between the circle made by us... More than circle it seemed like square but, whatever... A pen was kept there, which I thought was an enemy of mine, because in the first rotation only, he called out my name to answer the question. I liked dare but I wasn't daring enough to do Aden's dare, so I chose truth. "Predict the future of every person in this room", he said. I had to say the truth... So I begun, " I think so that Aden will be a...ahh... guitarist, as he... plays it well. James will be a good psychologist maybe...as he....umm...guides us by giving opinions... And finally Ramsy will be a magician, umm.. because she changes her mood every minute as a magician changes themselves in their magics...?!.." I stopped there, seeing Ramsy bit upset from my words. She stared me with a saddened face. I was feeling uncomfortable with her expressions so I stopped looking at her and saw the other two guys who were laughing at her. Pen was rotating again.. this time it turned towards James to make the game fair. He took truth as well. He was asked to show his most embarrassing photo present in his phone. He took out his mobile and showed the photo to us...which definitely wasn't a embarrassing photo. But was an abnormal photo of him. Actually in their case, abnormality is normal and normality seems abnormal! He was lying at the centre of the corridor of the hostel's block in which I was living and was laughing like a normal person. I never saw that type of laugh at his face. And lying at the mid of the corridor? Really? I could debate with myself whole day at this topic. Pen was rotated again... It was nearly 1 am and I was feeling very sleepy that time... I was just about leave when the pen turned towards me...I again had to choose between truth or dare, and it should be asked by Ramsy who seemed happy to get a chance to punish me. They forced me to take dare, as I took the truth last time. So I took dare after which Ramsy made a very scary face and said, "Lock yourself in the bathroom with the lights turned off till your next turn." I giggled because I expected a difficult dare as per her expression. I stood up to walk towards bathroom bravely. Their bathroom gave me the impression of being boundlessly haunted! I entered the bathroom seeing each of them looking vacantly towards me. I locked myself inside the bathroom as they said and sat there with my eyes closed as I thought that opening them would be a biggest mistake at that daunting and blood-curdling place. I waited till 5 to 10 mins. But no one came to tell me if it was my turn or not. I waited few more minutes and then went to the door to open it. I was horrified to find that the door was locked from outside. I banged the door very loudly and shouted. Finally no one came. I shrivelled upside down. Why did they do this to me? I started crying... I heard some footsteps coming toward the door after hearing my moans. Then heard someone unlocking the door. The door flew open with a large crowd of horrified people standing outside finding me in this block. I came outside with a deteriorated condition and took the fresh air. Warden was standing there worried for me. He asked, "What are you doing here?" I cried, "They called me here! See.. those living in this room! Aden! James! Ramsy! Where are you? Why are you doing this, huh?" Everyone was standing shocked there. "Don't you know that this block is abandoned and no one lives here? And who are these Aden, James or Ramsy? I know everybody living in this hostel. None of them is named so", said Warden. I was simply.... scared to death.

I used to think that the world was a safe place and nothing would ever happen to me. I thought I was untouchable. Well, that was until I got the text. I assume that everyone got one because whoever they are seemed to be addressing the whole school. This anonymous creep sent out a text at 9:47 last night and this is what it said,

Ominously Anonymous: Students of Meadow Ridge High. I've got to say I'm very disappointed. Now as to your punishment we're going to play a little game. Now, this is not the kind of game you can choose not the play. Everyone will be affected. You see I know things, about all of you and I will use them. This is how the game works. Every week someone will be chosen. Preferably you don't tell anyone but I know you can't do that so you can choose one person to tell. I will ask you truth or dare? Pick truth and I will reveal something to the whole school. Pick dare and you will have to do what I say. And if you don't reply then I reveal a secret to the school. Good luck meadow ridge and to quote Effie Trinket from The Hunger Games 'May the odds be ever in your favor.'

Whoever they are I received another private text from them at 9:48 last night

Ominously Anonymous: Marcus Dickinson, I have chosen you first. Truth or dare?'

*

Just friends. We're just friends. This is what I tell myself as I stand in my underwear deciding what to wear to meet my childhood best friend. I try very hard to think about her and not about the dare I have to complete by the end of the week. She won't care. You don't need to impress her. You're just friends. I see her every day at school. For Christ's sake, we do everything together. We used to have baths together when we were toddlers. A feel a blush rise on my cheeks as I think this. Stop it, I tell myself. You're just friends.

I've taken almost everything out of my wardrobe and tried it on but nothing looks good. The jeans will make me sweat, the vest makes me look kinda chubby and everything else is just wrong. I pick up my phone and throw it at the wall. It makes a cracking sound and then as I turn to see the damage it pings.

Stark, Jess Stark: Come on. Stop curling your eyelashes

I grin. Then I wonder what she means. s**t. I'm meant to be at the park now. Right now. s**t. I can't be late not for her. I mentally slap my annoyingly male mind. You're just friends.

I look at the clothes on the floor and sigh. I grab the nearest pair of jeans, blue, and pull them on. So much for not sweating. Then I rifle through the enormous pile of T-shirt's and try to find the red Nike one. Finding it I grab the deodorant and spray myself. In my rush I breathe in the manly fumes and cough, I drop my phone again and it makes another heart-wrenching cracking noise. It pings again and

Stark, Jess Stark: Are you sure you want to do this?

I know exactly what she's talking about so I ignore the text and continue getting ready.

Five minutes later I'm running out the front door, down the road, and into the park. I skid to a halt and try to look cool as I walk towards Jess. I put my hands in my pockets and take them out again nervously. I fluff my hair up and then wish I hadn't. I don't want to look like I've just rolled out of bed. Jess doesn't see me because I'm coming up behind her.

She's sitting on the bench smiling into the sun. Her hand is upon her forehead. She's wearing blue sunglasses and light pink lipgloss. In her hands is a blue slushy and she is sipping it delicately up a straw. Her golden-brown skin shines in the sun and as she smiles her golden freckles wriggle. Her paper bag shorts are painfully flattering and the baggy T-shirt she's matched it with has the looney toons characters on it. Our favorite cartoon. She stands up and turns around. Never misses a trick that one. She grins at me, 'Miss your alarm.' She takes in my messy hair and in dismay, I see my shirt is full of crumples.

'Oh um no. I just was curling my eyelashes?'

She smiles again and claps me on the shoulder. 'Ahh, it shows. You look extra handsome today. It's the eyelashes they really set of the eyes,'

I blush. 'Really?'

She snorts, 'Not really you look completely normal.' Each word feels like a little stab in the gut 'Not' stab 'really' stab 'you' stab 'look' stab 'completely' stab 'normal' stab. I feel tears prick my eyes and turn away. 'Come on,' I say gruffly. She walks in step with me. Our shoulders brush and I tense. Her head is at my chin height and I have an urge to put my arm around her. I am going to do it. I pull my arm up and begin to put it around when she looks at me. I disguise my intentions by putting my hand up to my head and scratching it. She stops and puts a hand on my arm, then she pushes me. 'I hope you haven't gone soft on me.'

'What Ewww course not' Liar, I say in my head. She gives me the searching look she always gives me when knows I'm lying but doesn't want to say anything. I break into a run and yell over my shoulder, 'Last one the park is a rotten egg.' Who says that? I think before I sprint away and hear her laughing and come powering after me. I was quick but I didn't run track whereas Jess had had on the track team since middle school and now in high school. She sprints after me and easily overtakes me. She slows down and grins back at me. I run-up to her and trip slightly on purpose so I have to put my arm on her shoulder. She staggers at my weight and we fall to the ground. We roll down the hill and land at the bottom