The Dare

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The Dare
Annette MacGregor

It's not every day you have to prove your self to the other guys... It's even harder, when you're the runt. But, there were times, at the home, where the older boys got it in their heads that some of us had to do something to prove, yet again, that we deserved to hang around with them. Sighing, I knew that today was one of those days and they'd set an awful task. It was even worse than when we'd had to cross the junk yard and not get caught by the dog.


Some people swore that the house was haunted. Certainly all the older kids at the home did. I gulped, as I thought about what I had to do. "Just go up the steps, and ring the doorbell." They said. Yeah, right. first I had to get through the fence. It'd have been easier if they'd not cut down the tree that used to hang over the wall.

I must have walked past the gate a dozen times, looking for a way. I decided to take the one chance I'd noticed. See, I was a pretty skinny kid and it looked like I might be able to squeeze and scrape myself between the wall and gate, but it wouldn't be fun.

Pushing my head between the bar and wall, I was pleased it fitted. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out, I started squirming my way in. 'Please, don't let anyone walk by!' I thought to myself. Maybe someone was listening, because I managed to get through, without ripping my shirt, though I'd probably end up with a few bruises.

As soon as I was through, I pressed my back to the wall, and looked again at the overgrown path to the steps. "I'm in; I may as well get this over with."

Taking another breath to steady my nerves, I made a quick run to the steps. 'Woah. Those steps don't look too sturdy.' I looked to the sides, but they had vines climbing up. I went up one side, hoping the steps would hold my light weight. They did, just. The creaks and groans really worried me.

Gaining the porch, I looked for a door bell button, but there wasn't one. 'How'm I to ring the bell, when there's no button?' Finally, I looked at the door itself. There were spider webs over it, but there at chest height was a funny knob. 'Is THAT the bell?'

Finally, I couldn't put it off any longer. I reached out and tried to turn it, but nothing happened. So I tried harder.

Suddenly, the door opened. A tall, thin man was standing there. "Come in," his voice boomed.

Too scared to do anything else, I did as directed. 'Is this place really haunted?'

"Madam will see you," his voice boomed again.

He took me to a clean sitting room and directed me to enter. An old lady was sitting there. I heard her gasp when she saw me. "Charlotte?" she whispered, in a shaky voice.

My mother's name! Why would she say my mother's name? I stood there, rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry, child, I didn't mean to frighten you. But, you look so like my lost daughter. What is your name, young lady?"

'How did she know?' As scrawny as I was and wearing jeans and a t-shirt I'd been accused of trying to be a boy often enough. I didn't expect any one to see ME. Remembering my manners, "Chris, ma'am."

She smiled. "No, I don't think so. You recognized the name I first said, didn't you?" At my nod, she continued. "Was your mother's name Charlotte, my dear?"

'How did she know?' "Y-yes, ma'am."

This brought a large smile to her face.

She pulled the cord: "James, call the home and find out about Chris. I think Charlotte's daughter has come home to us."

Then she gazed at me, standing with my mouth hanging open.

"Close your mouth, dear. It's unbecoming. You want to know how I guessed? You're the spitting image of my long lost daughter."

Nothing was ever the same again after that.

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Comments

Have always wondered about

Have always wondered about that descriptor applied to people "spitting image". Would the person being ummm, complemented be doing the spitting, the person one resembles, or would the person commenting prefer to do the spitting? And just how do the terms combine to be descriptive? Yet, we all understand the context, eh?

CaroL

CaroL

I've seen some old writings

Brooke Erickson's picture

I've seen some old writings that used the phrase "spit and image". It's easy enough to see that getting corrupted to "spitting image".

And given that spit can by used instead of hair, nails or blood as the link for a voodoo doll or many other spells....

Brooke brooke at shadowgard dot com
http://brooke.shadowgard.com/
Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls
It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world
"Lola", the Kinks

Short but sweet. Very nice.

LibraryGeek's picture

Short but sweet. Very nice. Suspense, yes, terror, not so much, but I'm happy about that, I'm not one for terror. This is a nice little story.

Yours,

JohnBobMead

Yours,

John Robert Mead

The dare

So much said in such a compact story, and so much left to the imagination. Why did Charlotte leave? What happened to her so that Chris was in a home? Even though Chris was in some shock - Chris didn't seem upset at being referred to as Charlotte's daughter.

These are the type of stories that I will now think about for the next while pondering on what, or why.

As for spitting image, I've heard it used a lot. Heck, there was even an old satirical program with that name.

Karen

The Dare

Wonder if "Madam" set up "The Dare" as a way to meet Chris? Is Madam a witch or simply a granny who needs to have her yard seen to?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

OMG -spoilers-

At first I thought this wasn't a horror story then I re read it and realized just how terrifying it was. The wicked evil ghosts are trying to turn a FtM to F, the poor boyy must be screaming inside! Omg I hope they salt and burn their bones (supernatural reference)!!!

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Bisexual, transsexual, gamer girl, princess, furry that writes horror stories and proud ^^

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D

Thank you for your comment on The Dare

Thanks for your comment... I'm afraid this story's about as close to a "horror" story as I can get... Though, the story behind "Chris'" being left at the home would likely be scarier...

Again, thanks,
Anne

Or...

Apparently there is no ghosts whatsoever and I've totally went into left field. Either way, it's a nice try, nice short and sweet and sentimental?

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Bisexual, transsexual, gamer girl, princess, furry that writes horror stories and proud ^^

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D

"Nothing was ever the same again after that."

This story is good as far as it goes, but it doesn't go far enough. You ended the story like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. That is letting the viewer make his or her own ending. There has to be more to the story. I want to know if Charlotte is still alive and if so will she be found and join Chris and her grandmother at home? But you had me on the edge of my chair though until Chris' grandmother told the butler to call the home and fine out about Chris. Now I want to know more, because there is a lot more to tell. Like, how did Chris get in the home to begin with, what happened to Charlotte? These questions and a lot more need to be answered by continuing this story. Please continue.

"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."

"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."