I plopped myself into the seat and turned the key. The roar of the engine sent a chill up my spine. Immediately, I was alert to the sound of Prodigy blaring in my head. My heart began to accelerate from the sudden rush of adrenaline; my hands began to shake with intensity, yet somehow I smoothly shifted the gear into its proper gear then gently let off the clutch and pulled out of my driveway with caution. I figured I might as well check the mail so; I opened the little box and pulled out a stack of bills saying “Konner Vale” on every one. Oh, how I wish my name wasn’t Konner Vale.

I was cruising down the road in my new ZR1 Corvette to my friend’s house when I got this sudden urge to cause mischief. This sounded reasonable considering I’m a guy. I thought about it for a moment and it hit me like a big yellow school bus. A Race! It was perfect. About the time my brilliant idea popped into my brain; I rolled to a stop at a red light, shortly after a new BMW M5 did as well. The driver was a young kid, more than likely driving his daddy’s car. He looked at me with a grin and revved his engine. I didn’t want to tease him so I casually looked up at the light, and patiently waited for it to turn green. The rush was back and I was more than ready to use it to my advantage. My hand gracefully gripped the gear and other was eagerly handling the steering wheel. The light changed and I punched it, my tires squealed and with pride I showed off my LS9, super charged engine, pushing over 650 horse power to the rear tires. Naturally, I was ahead, and he was, sadly, maxing out at 180 mph, while I was barely getting started. At that point I decided to agitate the kid by letting off gas until I was even with him, then accelerating at an incredible rate. I did this a few times before I finally took off, watching the kid shrink in my mirror. I laughed until reality kicked in and I realized I was going 220mph and eased off the gas, but it was too late. The infamous red and blue lights appeared in the same mirror I watched the kid deteriorate in size, and my adrenaline was gone.

I regretfully pulled over, as did the officer. Her door opened and her disgustingly shinny black boots tapped the pavement as she made a b-line to my car. She approached my vehicle and with an irritated look on her face, asked me the typical question, “do you know why I pulled you over?” and with me being a flirtatious type of guy I decided to swoon her out of getting a ticket. “Well, I did change lanes rapidly.” I said with a smile. “License and registration please” she said barely cracking a smile. For a change, I did what I was told and pulled it out of the glove box and handed it to her. “Don’t be gone too long sweetheart!” I shouted to her as she carried my information back to her car. I was surprised to see how quickly she returned. “Since you seem to have no record of speeding or any other sort of record, I’m going to reduce the speed, that way the bill won’t be that bad.” she said winking at me. We chatted for a bit, and handed her my number and told her to call me.

By the time I got to my friend Chris’ house it was eight at night. It was late and he’s a baby when it comes to this kind of thing, and like always he carried on and on, nagging the entire way to our destination, Kennedale Drag Strip. I tuned him out as usual. I prayed to see the bright lights around the track, so I could possibly get his mind off my tardiness. At last, there they were, I don’t think I was ever that excited to see that many pairs of lights. When we got to the track I paid the guy at the front $20 to get us both in. Chris and I made our way down to the racing strip in search of a worthy opponent to race my godlike car. Race after race, win after win, I was unstoppable, and no one seemed to be good enough to take on such a powerful racer. I was every girl’s target, most likely to be extended an invitation to attend parties, especially from the ladies. I turned them all down except one. One girl seemed to keep my attention, Kylee. Chris was ready to go back to his house but I pleaded with him to make an appearance at her party. After about a five minute discussion over how “I owed him big,” he finally agreed to go.

When we arrived Kylee was the first person to greet us. She was goofy and clumsy, yet I was strangely attracted to her. I’m not sure if it was her personality or the idea of a girl running nines down the drag strip in her all white Z28 camaro with extended mods. I tried my best to learn everything there was to know about her in my limited amount of time. I talked to her for hours, drank for more hours, and loved every moment I spent with her.

Our dreaded departure approached faster than expected. Considering I was under the influence, I hesitantly handed Chris my keys and let him drive us both home. I knew it was a bad idea. However, he was my best friend so I trusted him.

He hunched in my seat and started the car. I saw the same adrenaline rush I had just hours before. He went through the same process, racing everyone willing to eat our dust. I was having a blast and I’m sure Chris was enjoying every bit of it as well, only making his ego that much bigger. We pulled up to a new Mustang GT, Chris provoked the race this time. Green! We took off once more, and he swerved and clipped the back end of my car, causing us to swerve and with the intensity of our speed we flipped four times. Time slowed, while everything around us went silent. The last moments of my life were spent being hurled out of my car onto the black pavement where I was instantly killed from my head hitting the tar covered road. Chris however, is fed through a tube with a dialysis machine connected to his kidneys. Kylee, never heard from me again figuring it was just a one night fling. She continues about her life before she even knew who Konner Vale was, not knowing what happened that fateful night.

Knowing how severe the consequences of racing are, we did it anyways putting our lives at risk. Why? What’s the point? Oh yea, adrenaline.