I don’t know why I am doing this. Do I want to do it? No.  Am I oblivious to the fact that I am taking a big risk? No, I know the risk and its results. I had seen it firsthand. So why am I doing this? Is it because of a stupid dare? Yes.

    Honestly, I am not a daring person. I have never had and never would have been. If it wasn’t for Big Sister, I would have been sleeping in my bed this morning. The comfy covers and the soft pillows. The warmth of the…

    Snap out if it, I tell myself. I wanted to run back into the bed in my room on the second floor. I wanted to have the delicious pancakes grandma always made. I didn’t want to be out here. I wanted peace and no stress.

    I gulped; here I was, standing outside on the front porch. My shoulders held a backpack full of supplies that would last a week. I was going on an adventure; I couldn’t back down. Not when I chose this.

    I will do this, I tell myself. Even if it is the last thing I do. Even if I die from this.

    I glanced back the window in the living room and I regretted it almost immediately. The way that my family stared at me, their breath held up, their shoulders tense, and their eyes worried, made me want to take back what I had just said. Even Big Sister looked concerned, probably regretting ever making fun of me for my cowardliness. She held on tight to the shoulders of my two twin cousins, Jack and Jim. Jim looked scared while Jack covered his dog’s eyes. Even he was afraid that I would get killed right on the porch.

    I gulped, I had to get going. At this rate, it was going to be noon soon. I gave a confident nod at my family. My dad looked as if he was going to cry while mom gave me a nod back. Both of our nods were of fake confidence. Grandma just sat in her wheelchair, not blinking and holding the framed photography of Grandpa close to her heart.

Slowly, I took the steps down the porch. My legs trembled and I had to hold on to the railing for support. I released a long breath and cleared my mind. I was going to do this and  I will survive.

I moved down the rusty driveway fast. My feet scraped against the soil and the stone. All the memories of this place slipped into my mind as I walked past them. The swing that was attached to the tree. The small pond puddle where my cousins and I would splash our feet against, and the bigger trees where I spent my childhood climbing, slowly faded away.

I ignored the bright sun as I stopped in front of the gate. My mind screamed to turn around but my hands opened the door. I stepped outside the door, not looking back to my family. I did it. I did what I have been told to never do. I left the house.

I walked to the dirt road, probably the world’s least busiest road ever. Cars, trucks, vans, never traveled down this road. It was safe, or at least had been all my life. A sick feeling came to my stomach and I felt like throwing up. 

I looked back at the gate, the house, the garden, the small playground; everything I have known since I was born. I waved goodbye to my family, my everything, even though I wasn’t sure if they did see me.

It was peaceful outside, there was no sound of the birds chirping away like there always was. Instead, I heard the honking of a car.

My eyes opened wide as I turned around, facing the direction of the road. Bright light took over my vision and the sound of the honk blasted in my ears. Something pushed me, hard, and I flew up to fall badly down on my face. My legs were sore and I couldn’t feel my arms. My head was dizzy and all I could make out was a bright light blaring at me.

And that is how I ended up in this situation just like how my cousins, uncle, aunt, and grandpa had. I challenged the curse of my family; I traveled on a Saturday morning. And as a result, it killed me.