I Realize Dares Can Change Your Life

"I'll do it." 

Three words. Three words that sounded so simple yet three words that changed the course of my life. 

I'm Luis. You might know me, or you might not. At this point, that really doesn't matter. I'm the protagonist here, but I think you figured that out, didn't you? Anyway, let's cut the pleasantries and get to the main point. 

I'm writing this all down because I know it's the only way this account can survive. I'm not kidding or anything. I am dead serious. 

Because by the time this gets to you, I might be gone.

Whoops.

I'm not a writer or anything, but I'm not dumb to not know it isn't smart to broadcast something like that so soon. Can I erase that? No? Oh well then, let's keep it that way.

Or even better, let's start like this:

'One stormy evening, a thirteen-year-old accepted a dare…'

* * *

"Come on." I say to my younger brother Connor, "Tell me your dare."

Connor and I play these dare games when we get bored. Connor throws me a dare, and if I do it, I get to dare him back. It goes back and forth until our creativity has been exhausted, but we always return the next day with even better ones. We've played this since we were little kids, and still haven't gotten bored of it. 

I consider myself fortunate Connor isn't very innovative with his dares. He usually says stuff like 'walk up to that person and wave a hello' and I do it easy peasy. But today, Connor has a wild light about him, and I've learnt to keep away whenever he looks like that.

"I dare you to spend a night in the neighborhood factory." He says, his arms folded and a smirk on his face.

His words make my mouth fall open. His dare doesn't really sound so frightening at first, but if you live in our neighborhood, you'll know the factory is the worst place you could go to. 

Connor and I have walked past the factory sometimes during the day because we chicken out after sundown, and trust me, you'd rather eat cardboard than enter the factory. Even adults falter when they catch sight of it. 

Ever since it shut down in 1879 after a fatal explosion, no one goes there anymore. There aren't any houses near the factory, but they say if you walk close during the night and listen carefully, you can hear metal clanking and furnaces blowing and furniture clinking on the metal tiers just like it did when the factory was functioning. Sometimes, you can even hear factory workers talk among themselves as they did back in the 19th century. It happens exactly at two in the morning, and if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to be there, you'll catch the noises.

Back in the 1930s, a sleuth of investigators went in to crack the mystery, and they never returned.

Everyone knows it is common sense to stay away. 

And now, my perfectly audacious twelve-year-old brother was challenging me to spend an entire night there. 

I should've turned his dare down and kept myself safe, even if it meant I'd be embarrassing myself in the process. But how can I refuse a dare? That's something I never do.

"I'll do it." I say, second thoughts already blooming inside my head, "Tonight."

Connor's eyes bug out, as if he hasn't expected my reply to come out so confident. A part of me laughs at that fact, but the it dies down quickly. 

"Are - are you sure?" He struggles with his words, as if he's the one doing this dare. 

"I don't tell lies." For a moment, I'm cornered with a doubt that looms up right in front of my face and tells me this probably the worst thing I'm going to do. 

* * *

I slip out with a duffel bag exactly at eleven in the night. I haven't told my family anything, but I've left a note in my room saying that I'm off at a sleepover. Connor is waiting by the doorstop already. He doesn't understand what a dare is, because he's offered to give me company. 

We take the lane that leads right to the factory. I'm holding my head high and heading forward with all the courage I've got, but Connor seems to be regretting this.

"Let's just go back, Luis." He says, running to keep up with me and his face shadowed with uncertainty, "It's too dangerous."

"I can't refuse a dare."

"Well then, my dare was a joke. Let's go home, please."

I don't give a reply. I just brush past him and quicken my pace. He looks like he wants to leave me alone and turn back, but he changes his mind and totters beside me. 

Before I know it, we're standing in front of the factory. Boy, it is tremendous, looming over us like a deathly shadow. I try not to let my apprehension overpower me as I skim my gaze over its build. 

My digital watch reads 11:39 pm. A shiver runs down my spine, and I shoot a glance at our surroundings. Good - we're the only ones here. Connor already looks like he's ready to faint, and I give him a frown, like I'm not frightened as well.

I reach for the corroded wooden door, and it swings open with a long, spine-tingling creak that ricochets through the streets. The insides of the factory are dark and vacuous, as if they hold deep secrets. I reach out for the torch in my duffel bag and flash it inside. From here, all I can see is cobwebs and dust layering the walls and ceiling. I don't know how we're supposed to sleep here, but I advance anyway.

The first thing I see inside is huge, metal pipes running across the ceiling. A few of them have come loose, hanging from their height. I do my best to stay away from those. I don't want them to flatten me into a pancake. Connor whispers something about shadows, but I don't hear him.

I scout around for a nook good enough for the night. I've brought two sleeping bags just in case we don't find any likely candidates.

The amount of dust and cobwebs here is ridiculous. I'm not allergic to dust, but I hold back a sneeze, because I don't want to announce our presence so obviously. 

Not that there's anybody here.

The line of pipes continues, and there are dark streaks on the peeling wallpaper. I see some footsteps rounding a corner on the floor landing, and I try not to freak out. Footsteps can last decades, can't they?

The windows are crowded with webs, and the skies outside are a thunderous dark. The moon has disappeared behind a voluminous cluster of gray clouds. The temperature has dropped steeply, and I find myself reaching for my sweater in the bag.

We walk in the silence for a long while. I can literally hear the dial in my watch ticking as the seconds pass, slow and unbearable. Connor's footsteps seem to echo mine, and for once, I'm glad I have company. 

"Luis!" Connor cuts my line of thought, "Do you hear that sound?"

"Don't try to fool me." I say, but when my voice dies down, I realize Connor is telling the truth: from the floor above, I hear a distant, scraping noise of metal against metal. Goosebumps race over my skin.

"We're not going up there." I look at my watch: 12:01 am

Sweet.

We take the flight of stairs downstairs towards the basement, although we know that's where the explosion happened. I'm not looking for the site of the explosion, but for the quarters where the factory workers used to live. 

I take the lead, my torch held out, my shoes padding the ground. A few steps in, I start to notice sprinkled bits of ash and soot on the floor. The walls are singed, and I realize it's from the fire after the explosion. Apparently, no one bothered to clean it up.

I manage to get Connor and me across towards a row of walls and rooms that look like they might be what we're looking for. We scout for the ideal place, and Connor finds a corner that doesn't look as hopeless as everything else. I bring out the sleeping bags and pass one to Connor. The idea of sleeping here isn't going to turn any more welcoming, but I know we'd better let the night pass faster by turning in quickly. Connor keeps muttering about the strange scraping noises, and I block my ears. 

I stare at the ceiling for what seems like hours. My mind is running with thoughts. Something tells me stronger than ever that we shouldn't have come, but I tell that voice to shut up. I don't need any more doubts than I already have. 

There are no windows here and I wonder how the factory workers could go to sleep in such a crowded place. I remind myself this is closer to the explosion than I want us to be, but we were already here. I can't stand the thought of rolling up everything again and searching for a new place. 

It's hard to make out in the darkness if Connor has gone to sleep already. I try to close my eyes but they don't stay still. Surreal, isn't it? You find yourself nodding off at boring lectures, but when you're in a creepy abandoned factory, you're suddenly wide awake. 

I don't know when sleep finally descends upon me. All I remember is looking at the shadows creeping around and listening to the wind making whistling noises. I think I heard someone speaking, but by then, I was too tired to find out if it was true. 

My eyes open the next day to daylight streaming in from who knows where. My watch has stopped, but I know it's late enough to get up and get going from this place. I roll over to wake Connor up and tell him the good news when something makes me freeze. 

Someone has built a window on the wall opposite to us during the night. 

And the walls. The walls don't look quite as old as before, and certainly not as damaged. The ceiling doesn't look like it's going to cave in any moment, and the floor is cleaner than it was last night. 

Well, maybe our eyes played tricks on us last night. Eyes don't see quite as well in the darkness- maybe this factory isn't as banged up as we assumed it to be. 

I shake Connor awake and it doesn't take long for us to gather our belongings and retrace our steps. I don't tell him of the things I've seen, but I think he notices it himself. I tell him how I've beaten him on the dare and now it's my turn to make him do something scary, and he points out that he gets to go free because he took part in my dare. 

As we walk, I observe how everything else in the factory looks different, too. The pipes have rightened themselves, and the machines have come into one piece again. Strangely, there isn't a lot of dust or cobwebs around. I think I hear running machinery, but maybe it's only my ears.

I try to forget the worries. It's morning, which means we can finally go back home. I imagine how I'm going to steal the show with everyone when I narrate how my brother and I were brave enough to spend one whole night in the infamous factory. It does sound glorious, and I smile to myself. 

The front entrance of the factory appears down the corner, looking like a chocolate chip cookie in disguise. Connor and I fasten our pace and I reach out for the doorknob. 

Then we're out into the open again. The sun warms my skin and we run towards the houses in our neighborhood, my duffel bag leaping by my side. I nearly call out in joy and Connor can't help grinning widely. We did it. We really did it. 

We don't even pause to glance at our surroundings, and instead make straight to our house. I hope our parents aren't mad at us, but we can only wait and see. Connor's smile disappears when we reach our frontyard. I open my mouth to cheer him up but I realize why he's that way.

Right where our two-storeyed house is supposed to be, there is nothing. 

The land is empty.

* * *

"How did this happen?" I say, "Where is our house?"

"Maybe we came to the wrong neighborhood." Connor says, but I know it isn't true. We're in the exact same place we've lived for the past ten years. I reel around and it hits me that our entire neighborhood has changed. And it's not minor; nothing is recognizable. 

There are less than half a dozen houses, and they look different. They have sloping roofs and thatched walls instead of cemented roofs and sturdy walls. They're smaller, and I don't see any of the yards that used to be there. 

Connor and I wander aimlessly for a while, unable to say anything. I don't exactly know what's happened, but it's certainly not good. We catch sight of a few people, but something about their clothes doesn't strike a familiar chord. It reminds me of our history books for some reason. Luckily they don't see us. A shudder runs down my back when I realize they're headed for the factory. I mean, the factory? A building no one dares to enter? 

The townhall is rooted to spot, but it doesn't look the same way. Till yesterday, the townhall stood three-storeys tall and the date was always displayed on the front. But now, it's barely larger than any of the houses, and it definitely isn't made of cement.

"Connor," I grip my brother's arm, "The date on the wall. We need to see it."

Without wasting a second, we head towards the wall. Someone has decided to go old school and replace the electronic panel with a slab of wood.

Something is scratched on to the wood with chalk that's barely visible, and when I read it, my heart skips a beat.

It says 13th June, 1879.

My eyesight has gone blurry and my mind doesn't seem to work properly. I'm barely conscious of Connor tugging at my arm and saying something. I know people are staring at us kids wearing weird clothing from the 'future', but I still don't move.

It adds up. The sudden newness of the factory and the radical alteration of our neighborhood. All the things people used to say about the factory. 

It was all true. 

We're in 1879, and 13th June, 1879 was the day the explosion in the factory killed dozens of people. 

Why is this starting to feel like a Sci-Fi movie?