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2002-08-15 - 9:28 p.m.


***

Edgy pt 2

Here is the second part. Other than doing this, I did all of nothing today, but I did find out that the Nightmare on Elm Street is over, for all that concerned. My house is full, thank god.


FRO:


Good times. Good times tonight.

The road sits in the big wall of darkness. My car opens its eyes and shows me the world, the gleam from the headlights lays with the road. The engine slowly wakes up, grumbling and annoyed. The shaking in the car tells me it�s time to step on the gas.

2:40 AM. Way too late out. Or early. Or late.

The streets are clean of the rabble of unfit motorists. I can feel the street hum under the tires as I tire at the wheel.

Got to stay awake. Got to stay awake. Got to..stay.

No I have to be awake for this. The cold air from the air conditioner attacks me as I flush it out the vents into my face in hopes it can keep me awake. My eyes tear from the cold onslaught.

The radio is too loud, but I need that. I need that loud. I need the loudness. I need�

Got to stay awake. I�m almost to the parkway again, to head back home. I need to get to my bed, I need to get to bed.

It�s late out and I�m tired. I think I already said that.

The lights ahead are changing. The whole dark street, ignited by lamps on phonepoles, becomes washed in a dry yellow, cautioning me to stop.

Stop will mean rest. Rest will mean sleep. Sleep will mean�

Got to stay awake. Got to stay awake.

Red showers over my car as it warns me of the danger I�ve put myself in. The whole inside of the car seems like it�s bleeding as the head passes over my roof, past my trunk, past my bumper, red with anger that I didn�t listen.

I uncaringly pull into the parkway curve. No cop, don�t stop, I don�t care.


***


The flow of the parkway at night, when there are no people on the road, is something you cannot stop and don�t want to stop anyway. There is no regulation and although there are cops, they are far and few between. Speeding is almost encouraged because an empty road beckons you to take it for all it�s worth, like a woman ready to go. I come off the curve with force, my car squealing a bit in excitement from the turn. The flow catches me instantly, grabbing me and tugging my tired body through the night, with only two lights in front guiding me. Soon, fireflies in streetlight form come swarming past, in sets of twos, on each side. A big green box screams by the car, with noontime shining off its face. Light comes in spurts and explosions.

I feel no threat when it comes to the night. The roads are usually empty and if I have to get somewhere, there�s more than enough room to drive on. There�s only one other person on the road now anyway, a big SUV looking car. It�s 4 car lengths behind me, in the next lane, shining in the mirror. I can�t see it very well but the 4 lights in front, in the way they�re set up, tell me they�re not a cop. Not even an undercover cop has that kind of car. I can drive as I please. The road up ahead divides into two sections and I�m too busy looking at my ally here to notice, but I need to get over, or else I�m going to have to take a longer way home and that means death. There�s a car in the way. My comrade, my ally. The one I share the road with. I try my best to hop over, but the car stays the same speed. The driver refuses to let me in.

I feel slight vibrations as the white lines thump beneath my tires. I feel myself grinding over white blockades�lines drawn to help us decide where is legal to drive.

I cut in front of the car and it doesn�t seem like the driver is too happy. Got to stay awake and keep up on my mission to get home. I pull ahead barely, almost hitting the face of the 4 headlight friend behind me. We swerve and panic the same way, hitting our individual brakes so that smoke eeks out of our individual tires and makes our journey that much slower.

After I cut forward of this idiot, I fly swiftly to the part of the parkway I should be on. I flow to the feeling I should be going just as fast as my car would allow. I would find out the car behind me shared the same belief. We both sped on at insane speeds, our engines each singing out a different but equally violent song as we raced down the parkway. But this was no race. We were trying to outdo each other. I knew it: this night held the one night I would find my challenger, the one who believed as I would have believed. In driving, who would expect people to hold what you�re doing in such a high regard. It would be impossible to find people who believed in the game. But here they were. Here was one of them. I kept a constant speed of 80-85 MPH, speeding up at times. I felt as though if I were going to beat someone at an all out race, I was going to need insane speeds on parkways. Speeds that would put us in the focus of the cops.

But no cops would show. We both flown on together at an average 85 mph spanned across a few exits, the time together getting spent slowly. I had 12 exits till I�d get home before the road work on this side of the parkway began showing up. At first, they coned off the slow lane and since I held true to the fast lane (2 lanes opposite the fast lane) I would fly without competition, except for this 4 headlight car behind me. I raced faster when the sight of the SUV getting more prominent and closer in the mirror filled me with anger and determination. I needed to beat this guy in a twilight bout.

I sped through the �Lane Closed� signs, shooting past the green box with ultimate light reflecting on it. 11 exits out of home. I could understand the laborers would be preparing the cones as I came roaring past and scared them, but the workers were gone and the speed limit was 40 MPH. At this point, I knew I would be in all sorts of trouble whenever we went into 2 lane sections. I would have to outrun this 4 headlight monstrosity and I wouldn�t be able to do that on so much sleep and I needed to stay awake. Need to stay awake. Need to beat him. Need bed. Need�

The thump of a hollow orange barrel woke me up from the 3 seconds it took me to dose off. I shot the brakes on in terror, my body and the body of my car tensing up, wretching in horror. The 4 headlights turned into 2 red lights. I immediately lost all fear and got down to business.

The lanes were slowly being stripped away by the work. The merge signs came and went; the beloved fast lane would get swallowed alive by men in orange vests and ridiculous hats that were hard enough to save their lives. Their reflectors would shine like a smile, gleam brilliantly for just a split second as 4 headlights and then 2 headlights bounced off of them. The brilliant lights they used to illuminate the scene made my eyes ache, like a starved person eating for the first time again. The tears streaked down my cold face, their warmth cutting lines into my frigid face. I tasted the salt of desperation, losing to this 4 headlight opponent, the only one to play the game. The only one to play back.

6 exits left. I try all sorts of moves. I try to gain speed around the SUV but when I make a stab at it, curves wind me around dangerously and I have to slow down to keep control. The anti-lock brakes grumble beneath my feet constantly. Finally, I get a helper. A van is in the way up ahead, on a section of the road being worked on. In the SUV lane. I speed up to get along side the 4 headlights, confident I will see this through. 5 exits to go by the time I smile into the mirror by my head, the 4 headlights flip out from behind the van in sheer anger, annoyed that they�ve set a pick and allowed me the lead. I feel like singing.

The night all around me is dangerous and ominous, holding out on me, denying me everything I should know. It shrouds all forms of hints as to where cops lay. With the lights off, copcars are just another shade of black in the black. Until the red lights come on. Then the siren goes. Then you�ve lost. Then�

The 4 headlights pull up right next to me. It appears I�ve dosed off again without realizing it, but only in my head. I�ve been paying too much attention to the night, to the surroundings. Must stay focused. Must stay awake. Must stay. I get angered for my weakness as I slowly see the hood of the SUV get very far out in front of my car, the light pouring out of the front of it like rabid dogs, eating any darkness that may exist. 2 exits left. It�s time for an all out battle. Up ahead, as if someone had planned this event, I see the lane comes down to one lane. Two merging signs indicate that the middle lane is the only passage for the last stretch before my exit. I notice the roar get louder in the SUV. My car reacts like an echo to this, revving higher and higher as I punish the gas pedal with my foot. We both streak down the road, gliding through vast darkness in hopes that victory rides home with us that night.

A car in the middle lane comes at us as we come barreling towards it at insane speed. I stick to the slow lane and the SUV hops over to the fast lane, which has become open until it dies at the crucial point we are shooting for. Both of us raging, raging into that good night. It�s all out adrenaline pumping in my hands shaking, my heart thumpthumping, my eyelids getting less and less heavy�

I make it around first because my car is smaller than the SUV and I zip in front of the car, missing by inches and causing the driver to brake and honk the horn in one motion, as if the horn was connected to the brakes. The SUV stalls up in its lane, unable to get over and brakes, but hits through the barrels in the line, spreading them out like children at naptime, cuddling together on the roadside.


***


2:50 AM. I race towards the end.

I am victorious again. I have not been beaten.

I enjoy the taste of winning. I spin the radio volume knob with my finger in celebration, flying by at 90 MPH, shrieking all the words out the window, smiling at the moon, at the trees, at the win, at the copcar waiting for me right at the exit�

***********************************************************

BMC, bitch.

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