The engine’s screams were deafening, but I needed the extra rpms for what I was about to do next. The rpms were way above the recommended shift point, but I waited just a second longer. With van Dyk’s “Namistai” pounding into my skull from the speakers that surrounded me, I smoothly stepped on the clutch while shifting from 5th gear into 3rd, all the while tapping the accelerator to maintain the high rpms. Letting go of the clutch, I smiled as I had shifted from 5th gear into 3rd, without the slightest chirp or howl from the engine.

Sliding around the corner at over 80mph in 3rd gear was no easy task. Although its not exactly how you’re supposed to take “The Hill”, it can be done. When taking the hill at those speeds, you have to be unwavering in your decisions because some choices can cost you your life.

Rounding the bend, I could feel the suspension give a bit underneath me, due to the centrifugal force that was threatening to throw the car into the concrete divider. The 4 foot high divider ran right up the center of the highway, separating the northbound cars from the southbound cars. The tires hopped, but held onto the asphalt below me, as I flew around the bend way beyond the posted 40mph speed limit.

Coming out of the corner, I shifted up into 4th, then 5th gear again. The short stretch of highway before me could scarcely be considered a break because of the multiple 40mph corners that lay ahead. Over and over again, I double-clutched and held on as I slid through each subsequent turn.

Coming out of the 15 miles worth of twists and turns, I had made the run on “The Hill” in record time.

I shook my head and looked up to see a car full of high school kids hooting and hollering. As the light turned green, the driver stomped on the gas and they sped off. Crossing the street, I sighed and slowly pedaled my way home.

The angry wails could be heard resonating in the still night air. The short, shallow breaths that floated from his lips, in little tendrils of frosted steam, could be seen rising skyward in the cool wash of moonlight. Animalistic cries filled the sky, hammering away at his consciousness, wearing down his mind’s psychological barriers.

Glancing quickly left and then right, he ducked into the blackness of a large oak tree and waited. Waiting for something that he hoped would never come. What he felt wasn’t natural, but neither was the situation he was in at the moment. He couldn’t shake this feeling of unease.

Nighttime had come hours ago, and the bright full moon had risen up into the deep velvet darkness that covered the earth in its shadow. He had been caught outside unawares when night fell, but as time wore on, he realized that there was good reason to be indoors when daylight waned. Not even the pitch black of night could hide this eerie sensation that crawled all over him. His breathing quickened as he tried to assess the situation that lay before him. Looking about, he knew that he was in a very precarious position. No one dared wander out into the night under these circumstances. And he was out here against his better judgment.

He gazed up into the sky, marveling at the tiny twinkles that signaled that there was indeed life out there, somewhere. He knew that some day someone might find something out there. He just hoped that he was around when that happened.

The ghost-like orb hung in the sky, with a misty black backdrop to contrast the stark white glow emanating from a power source unknown. It beckoned to him and pulled at him relentlessly. He wondered if there was something about the power of the moon that made people wish and wonder. Was there something magical about it that hadn’t yet been discovered? Maybe one day, he would be the one who unlocked the secrets of the mystic moon.

A scream pierced his reverie and the silent of night. It was almost indiscernible, but he understood at once what it meant. Sighing inwardly, he slowly trudged to the side of the house, opened up the gate and went through it.

Mom was yelling at him again. He had forgotten to take out the trash.