THE DARE by Kathy Goddard (2nd place, Flash May25)

‘You know the rules, Billy.  If you want to be one of us, you’ve gotta go to the witch’s house.’

‘Yeah, but you gotta go inside as well.’

I stared round at them.

‘Inside?’

‘Yeah, like wot ‘e said.  Properly inside.  You’ve gotta wave at us through a window – an upstairs one.’

‘Aye, that’s right.’

I remember the day, and the grubby faces and knees, but not the names.  Bullying in those days wasn’t done from the safety of a made up user name on social media, but was a face to face battle if you wanted to fit in. 

‘Wot’s matter?  Scared?  Snivelly little scaredy cat!’

‘Have you all done it?’

That had pulled them all up short.  They’d shuffled, nudged each other, avoided each other’s eyes.

‘’Course we ‘ave.’

It was a lie, of course.  None of them would dare go into the darkest corner of the woods, where the trees grew thickest and where the witch’s house looked as if it was being held up by the ivy that crawled up the walls and over the roof.  The door hung from one remaining hinge and the windows were dull eyes, observing the encroaching wildlife – including the children who dared to invade the peace.

Those nameless lads from my past had no idea who or what they were dealing with.  I wasn’t scared of the darkness, but I put on a good show.  I slowed down when their steps faltered, shrieked when one of them snapped a dead twig underfoot and ducked when an owl flew silently overhead, so close I felt the wind of his wing and the squeak of the poor vole held in his talons.

‘Look, ‘e’s shaking in ‘is shoes!’

He was a fine one to talk.  The moonlight had washed any colour out of his face but he couldn’t disguise the tremor in his voice.  The sharp bark of a fox nearly finished them, but they could hardly run away if I didn’t.

‘Look – there it is.  Sure you wanna go through with it?’

The dim light couldn’t hide the hope in their eyes.

I tried to look scared and I suppose the house did look like something from a horror film.

‘Who’s taking the photo?  I want to know who to wave to when I get upstairs.’

One of the nameless bunch waved a camera. 

‘Come out soon as you’re done.  I don’t wanna hang round here.  Got better things to do.’

‘Okie doke.’

Those poor sods wouldn’t know a charm if it bit them on the bum.  As I approached the house its appearance changed.  The door straightened and the windows shone.

As I stepped over the scrubbed doorstep the old lady looked up from her cauldron.

‘Hi, Gran.  Just popping up to my room for a minute.’

‘Hello, love.’

It’s my house now.  Those lads don’t come around these days, but their sons and daughters do.  I keep the charm active.  It’s what Gran would have wanted.