Dare Me, I Will

Slurring sounds echoed across the dark, mild-lit room. It was only 6:00 P.M. and yet Drake was laying down o the blanket-covered bed. He was crying on and on, blurting out painstaking sounds inside the bedroom.

Drake had slick dark hair, combed neatly to the nape. He was strikingly handsome, with deep blue eyes and a chiseled nose. As to human standards, he was intensely eye-catching for young adolescent girls. Being noticed easily was never a problem for him, since his tall physique and tanned skin could only but make heads turn. Different from the group, for being the bravest and most daring one. Gutsy but only twelve and a half years old. His biceps were beginning to show.

His mom was wondering the change in instances. Never-ever did Drake sob and whimper like this. It was her instinct that something wrong had happened to her son. Horribly wrong.

Many an eye looked up to him. With a brash, strong look, many young girls swooned over him. Almost everybody did, until all falling down this day. Brad, his best friend, had been so cold to him.

This day, just a few hours ago, he was dared to do something new. Dares were of no new matter to him.

Drake dearly loved his bike, he never left home without it, and it had been given to him as a token for his birthday two years ago by his father. It was his most prized possession to date. He had not much money, and yet he was happy. Friends and disbelievers loved to dare him do some bike stunts, little boys' prattle and things alike. Drake never refused to dare... even if it would mean his life and others'. There was too much trouble and disaster at risk. He would steal oranges and apples in the general store causing, otherwise, or resulting to enraged storeowners and chases in alleys and dark dead-ends. All things like these, throwing stones and slipping slimy creatures inside girls' bags were all just for fun. But the fun ended into a nightmare for Drake.

The dare. He was dared to go down a very steep slope and desperately try to pedal his way across the intersections of highway 466. Cross-highway 466 was indeed a very large highway. Trucks and vehicles of varying sizes zoomed. Drake had to cross the highway in his bicycle when the red lights start flashing on.

Sweaty palms drove his small hustled bike along the start of a slope. Brad, he remembers in an instant, was the first one who dared him, along with so many so-called "friends". "Didn't they even think of the possibilities that I might die or crash horridly? I am scared as hell. I have my reputation at stake. I don't like to go through this but I must. Well... here goes. This stupid dare might change my whole life. I must." Drake did this running thought unexpectedly. "Oh confound it, Brad - you're my best friend."

The red light lights glowed. He swiftly pedaled down the thick slope into the dingy highway bravely. His leg muscles were working full blast into pedaling. Down, down, down... honky-tonks and truck brakes were heard. Angry pedestrians and drivers shouted at this boy. Time was fleeting. Drake made it into the other end of the crossing! Far away, a child's scream was muffled by the curious crowd. Drake did not hear this, nor the hush-hush panicking.

The self-assured Drake entered the classroom at three o' clock in the afternoon. Filthy snobs filled the room as he greeted his classmates. There were a few chalk-written handwritings on the blackboard. "We hate Drake!!!" Brad, his best friend, was crying and did not want to talk to him. This was not funny anymore, he thought. A few moments later, he was called among to talk to the school dean. A solemn sordid frowning face greeted him as he entered the room. He then found out the shock most shattering. A truck braking when he passed the cross-highway ago slid across the sidewalk, with its wheels injuring a four-year-old child's leg. The child was Marge, Brad's younger sister! Her leg had almost been torn. That is why Brad was so bitter to him a few moments ago.

Now, inside his room, Drake did not want to go out again. He was ashamed of what he did, and did not want to see himself being left out in disgust by his "friend". It is certain that they loathe him now, because of what Drake had done. Tears flowing down dampened the feathery pillow he laid his head upon. It was quite an unusual site. He never wanted this to happen. For the first time in his life, he felt all alone and so empty. That was weird enough for someone who had been the eye of many people.

His mom had been told of what had terribly happened. She and Drake' father already knew. Drake did not sleep nor eat till morn came.

Money was little and enough only for Drake, but it did not stop him from making up what he had. If had been rich as Donald Trump, it would still be the same old sacrifice, giving up almost everything or should others notice, EVERYTHING. The next day, he wondered if it was too late to mend everything. He did not eat and take much from his allowance. He bought flowers for Marge and visited her everyday as much as he could after school. She recently had an operation and Drake made the little girl happy. There were days when he slept in the hospital to look after how Marge was doing. He was desperately hoping her leg and the overall turnout of the situation would be most satisfactory. He had sold his dear bike, his batman comic books, all his remaining drums, LP's and other things. Enough, he was looking forward, for making an innocent girl happy. He spent all of the profit for dolls, toys, chocolates, cards and food for the little girl everyday. He began to take care of Marge the way a brother cared much for his smaller sister and gave her a huge playball, which she loved very much. Drake's joy was unabashed when she was able to limp back to recovery again. Chances were too small months ago. Yes, months have passed since that day.

Brad? Oh, Brad. Brad had found another best friend by now. Drake and he are not good friends anymore, for what happened left a scar in Brad's brain. That he, Drake, had almost taken his own sister's life. Drake was too busy with Marge to enjoy life outside, together with his friends, almost like that.

Drake had been very patient; for he grew to love the child he almost killed. At nighttime, he would read bedtime stories for Marge to lull her into sleep.

On her fifth birthday, Marge was able to walk at last. She once wrote a note to Drake:

She had been limping a little, but Drake never left her side. He had promised himself never to accept a dare again.

Marge was able to recover fully with a bit of limping. She and Drake married each other eighteen years later. Both were very successful without Brad bothering them. Drake fulfilled his promise. He never left her his whole life.