The 1,00 Dollar Dare

• Calder Barksdale, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2013

The 1,000 Dollar Dare
By Calder Barksdale

As I took another step forward, it happened. I slipped. I could feel the ancient wooden beam, swollen with yesterday’s rain, slid out from under my feet. Desperately, I threw out my arms, trying to get hold of it again. Luckily, I did. As I pulled myself onto the log, farther away from the deep, dark abyss below, I questioned myself Oh, why did I take that dare?
It all started when my mom made me go on a camping trip with Gregory Malay, a snobby, wealthy person at school. My parents and his get along, but Gregory I and are worst enemies. “You’ll love it out in the outback,” my mom responded when I begged her not to make me go on the trip. One day later, I was in the outback.
As the molten gold sphere of light sank into the horizon, Gregory challenged cunningly “I have a dare for you.” Now, one thing I love is a good dare, especially when money is involved. And it was, too. “One thousand dollars,” I breathed. “What is the dare?” “You’ll see.” He answered.
Twelve minutes later, I was on the beam, scanning the gorge below. I could see giant, black, wet rocks down in the shadows below. I sucked in a breath of air, and bean the frightening amble across the beam.
As I began to close in on the midpoint of the bridge, I heard a nasty, groaning sound coming from the beam. The beam was falling apart! I began to scamper quickly, like a kitten over the log, hoping to reach the other side quicker. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack! I whipped my head around thinking the log had snapped. However it was just cowardly Gregory, watching from the sidelines.
Finally, I saw it! There, just eight or nine feet away, lay the other side of the gorge! Then I heard it. The ancient, weather worn beam had snapped. I began to quicken my pace as I bolted across the beam. I felt the beam begin to tilt downward, into the abyss. I screamed, took one more step forward, and leaped.
I felt my calloused, splinter-filled hand come in contact with the hard, cold edge. Quickly, not looking back, I pulled myself up onto the ground. I glared at Gregory. “I could have died.” I complained. “And, you owe me $1,000.” I stared furiously at Gregory as he, fuming, gave me the money. Then, he turned, and slinked back to the campsite.
I turned and took one last glimpse at the gorge were the shattered log, that could have also been covered with my blood. I shuddered, turned around, and walked back towards camp.