Double Dog Dare

The brick was heavy in my hands as I held it up over my head. I can still feel the rough edges sliding between my palms as the momentum carried it back. My arms and stomach tightened as I began to shift my weight forward. I bit down on my lower lip and closed my eyes. Everything went silent as I lunged forward and threw it as hard as I could.

I opened my eyes in time to see it flying across the yard and going straight through the front window. Everyone paused for a split second in sheer disbelief that I had done it. I don’t do things like that. I don’t take dares. I don’t throw bricks through windows of vacant houses.

The sound of shattering glass snapped me back to reality. All the kids in the yard gasped and yelled as we scattered like cockroaches. I sprinted across the yard, up the driveway to my house and straight into my bedroom. I shut the door quickly but quietly so my parents wouldn’t hear.

I sat huddled in a ball on my bed trying to catch my breath. My heart was racing, my face was red. I could hear ringing in my ears. It was exhilarating and terrifying. I clasped my hands together to try to stop them from shaking.

Sometimes, even now, when I feel stressed out like I’m just going to lose it, that memory plays over in my mind and I’m back in that moment with a huge brick held over my head and all of that stress just goes flying through the neighbors front window. It makes me smile a little and laugh at how hugely terrifying something so small can feel.

 

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