Prologue: Delilah Mettey

  I don't know why I did it. I was so stupid to. I guess I just did it because Jean dared me to, and you can never back out of a dare. Or at least when your nine years old, because then you become a chicken.

  Jean dared me to drink a bottle of her Dad's Scotch. 

  

  "I can't do that!" I exclaimed. 

  She rolled her blue eyes. "Why not?" Jean asked me. "Are you afraid?" 

  "No," I lied. "If my parents found out they would ground me forever." 

  "Chicken! Chicken!" Jean taunted. "Delilah is a wussy chicken!!"

  She stood up and started dancing around, waving her arms and making clucking noises. 

  I started giggling. I couldn't help it. It was pretty funny.

  "I'm not a chicken!" I yelled over her clucking. She stopped her dance and sat back down.

  "So you'll do it?" she asked with a hopeful face. 

  I sighed. "I'll do it," I agreed.

  She squealed in excitement and told me, "hold on". Then Jean got off of her bed and bounded out of the room and down the stairs.

  Jean's parents were out shopping for a new mattress and her older sister Desire was supposed to babysit us, but she was too busy kissing her boyfriend on the sofa to noticed anything. 

  Jean came up the stairs a couple of minutes later with the bottle of Scotch in her hand with a bottle opener. She sat back down on the bed and opened the bottle with the opener.

  Then she held it out to me. 

  I took it from her nervously and held it by my lips.

  "Do it!" she yelled.

  So I opened my mouth, tilt the bottle back, and then everything changed.