Do not dare a mad man

Everything seemed loud. The laughter from my friends echoing in the room was too much to bear. It felt like the room and everything in it was rotating. I could not feel my legs; neither my hands or any other part of my body was functioning fully. I tried hitting my forehead, rubbing my eyes and blinking severally so as to get my brain functioning but it was all for nothing! I guess the weed cookies, pills plus the alcohol we were busy gobbling down our throats were finally taking their toll on me as usual. “Isaiah! Are you ready for the dare?”, Jake asked me. I did not respond, I guess I was too intoxicated to care on what I would be dared to do next.  Either way I was used to the bizarre things we did. We were a crazy bunch, occultic in some way. “So, we dare you to kill your mother!” Jake continued. My body felt torrid. A sharp pain pounced on my head; it felt like I had been hit by a blunt object. Were these ideots insane? Kill my mother? What sort of a joke is that? 

“What the fuck? Are you insane? What the hell guys?”, I screamed. “I will not do it! I don’t care about the rules of the game. Family is a no-go zone, damn guys!”, I shouted. At this point my 8 friends were burning with rage. They started humming and stumping their feet as was the occasion when someone refused to comply with the rules of the game. The head of the group, Peter, stood up, stretched his left hand to summon the group to silence. Everyone else hit the round table in front of us with their left fist then sat back silently waiting for Peter to make his speech. 

“Jake, you know the rules of the gang. When you were initiated, you knew the consequences, now being the newest member of our gang, we gave you a year to fit in. Your time has elapsed,” Peter said 

“But Peter, killing my mother is insane. I have done everything you asked for, I killed my dog, strangled my neighbor's cat, poisoned my father who almost lost his life and even.....” 

“Shut the hell up! We have done way worse! The choice is yours. You have one week to say your goodbyes. It’s do or die!” Peter interjected. 

He then summoned the rest of the gang to stand up. They made a straight line, bowed to the image of a black python engraved on the wall, started chanting and left the room. The rage within me, I could not explain. I jolted. Turned the table upside down, stepped on the brown leather sit and jumped to the other side of the room; made a fist and hit the wall so hard with my left hand that I felt my knuckles crumble. But I felt no pain. Crying was not enough; I felt lifeless, zombie-mode had been activated. I did not know what to do. 

I passed out! 

I was woken up by the loud buzz from my phone. My dear mother was calling to find out where I was. It was 2100hrs, I picked it and assured her I would be home in the next five minutes. Those were the longest five minutes of my life. Getting home, I went straight to my room, locked the door and sat on the black gothic rug with a black snake entangled on a white rod symbol. This was a gift given to me by Peter. I stared at the tattoo deeply engraved on my left wrist, ‘blood suckers for life,’ and felt nauseated. It was all my fault. 

The next few days were tough. I missed all the must-attend group meetings which would mean they would punish me for it. The punishment involved eating raw liver and drinking the blood of every member of the group; yes, they would slit their wrists and one would be forced to drink their blood because if one person fails the whole group is held accountable. I avoided bumping into my beautiful mother on the corridors. I ate nothing but survived on tonic water and my precious blunts. You see, the group had one rule, if you do not do a death dare, they either break a part of your body or kill you themselves in the best way they know how...and yes, I knew this but I still joined them thinking it was all fun and games, nothing serious. I did not even believe the stories they told me about them killing their guardians with the belief the goddess of evil would reward them with a lifetime of wealth and immunity.   

Five days passed by really quick. One would think the goddess of evil was actually rushing time so that she could pass my judgement. I remember receiving a message from Peter reminding me that my days were numbered. On Saturday night, in the wee hours of the morning, I wore my black robe, put on my hoody, picked my weird looking rod and tiptoed to the kitchen. I then picked the butcher knife and headed straight to my mother’s room. She was a light sleeper but somehow tonight she did not hear me open the door. Am guessing the evil goddess had something to with that. I then pointed my rod on her face with my right hand, then took the knife, placed it on her forehead with my left hand. These were the rules of the killings withing the group to appease the goddess of death to grant us favors. Right before I made my last move, my mother breathed heavily, I panicked hid the rod and knife under her bed, jumped beside her and held on to her so tightly that she woke up asking what was wrong. In that moment I started sobbing uncontrollably with regrets tormenting my already disturbed mind. She wrapped her arms around me, pecked me on my forehead and whispered, “everything will be okay my son. Mummy will always have your back. I love you Jake.” That was the time It hit me, I should end this madness 

My mission changed from killing my mother to eradicating my gang! 

On Sunday evening all the gang members had assembled in the meeting room waiting for my arrival. What they did not know is they would all burn to death. I gave a random mad man some money, asked him to buy petrol and sent him to pour it round the house. After he went back to his normal location, I passed near him all dressed in black and offered him a poisoned drink. I then walked to the nearest joint, watched him drink and choke to death. This meant there were no witnesses. I then ran as fast as I could to the house and started a fire where the petrol had been poured. Immediately the fire started I ran back to our house, jumped through the window and got back to bed. I slept like a freaking baby. 

The next morning, I was woken up by my mother asking me to go watch the news. They had all been burned to ashes. As the saying goes from ashes-to-ashes blablabla! Now, am cuddled up on the couch with my dear mother, eating popcorns and watching our dear news anchors trying to make sense of the whole incident. But one thing is clear for me, never dare a mad man! 

*Tales of a Kenyan Lady*