The End of Truth or Dare

My discomfort triggered my legs to twitch against the rough carpeting, causing a subtle burn to shoot through my skin. My mind clung to the sensation to avoid the heavyweight of the seven sets of curious eyes staring at me. Games are meant to be fun; truth or dare was just a game.

"What's your biggest fear?" With no hint of the drowning wave of anxiety she sent coursing through my existence, Sydney had asked with a friendly smile.

The seconds ticked by with matching throbs of my heart. The pounding so severe that it resonated in the base of my neck. My hand twitched to the back of my head as though it would be needed to keep it in place.

Obvious thoughts of spiders, snakes, and geometry class escaped me as the fears that stabbed into me in the quiet moments of the night when I lay awake roared to the front of my mind. Focus came first. In moments of silent darkness, when my mind would sharpen on reality, focus. The quiet darkness of night wouldn't fill my eyes with flashing screens to distract me from my thoughts. My lungs would suddenly feel heavy as my mind clung to the now labored intake and exhale of breath. The focus was too heavy, too revealing.

But was it my genuine fear? No, it wasn't. As the panic of focus began to slip away like a receding wave, loneliness began to choke me. It caught in my throat like a desert breeze causing me to gulp at the last remnants of saliva in my mouth. My thoughts twisted and snarled around biting thoughts of always being misunderstood, never finding my place, never finding my footing in life. Snapshots of sitting at empty dining tables or lonely couches whizzed by like postcard memories that should be happy.

But it wasn't the loneliness that settled into the pit of my stomach. The hair on the back of my neck stood tall as my biggest fear coursed through my body, stiffening my spine with a painful ache. I was afraid of focus and loneliness. I was fearful of the thoughts that gnawed at me in quiet moments. I was scared of myself. I was my biggest fear.

My eyes twitched, bleary at first, around the room. As my gaze continued around the eyes peering at me, a breath finally worked its way into my screaming lungs, softening my stare's blur. My friends weren't looking at me with any maliciousness; games are for fun. Hopeful friendly faces looked back at me, waiting to chuckle at my fear of rodents or heights. If I were honest, their smiles would break to warm concern as their minds whirled on words to offer in support. They'd react with gentle care and warmth.

My jaw dropped in slacked anticipation of my admission as my voice creaked out, "I'm afraid of the dentist." I let out a broken, toothy smile to mask my failure.