Shutup and Drive!

(Um... I'm not too sure about what this was inspired by, but I'm writing it to get all this racing stuff outta my system. Enjoy!)

It's midnight...

It's cold...

There's mist forming, in preparation for the coming day. The moon is the only major light source in the dark, empty expressway in which my car was parked.

I revved....

My beautiful, purple Nissan Skyline. The most precious thing in the world to me- next to experiencing the better side of sex, but that's another story...

It's decorated with a cell of "speed racer"- the wide body kit's not a bad addition either...

My opponent revved...

I found my current enemy on the road. On the road at midnight- no good reason. Every place within the range of twenty miles was closed. I knew she was looking for action. So was I.

She looked at me... red hair in her eyes, no helmet, like I. Bare, not caring. We needed speed, and we were out to get it.

I counted off with my hands, mouthing the numbers...

Three....Two....

We both revved, myself with only one hand on the wheel...

One...

We sped off . I didn't know nor care what speed she was at, but I knew I was gonna beat it.

The enemy, Claire, hit the shift, going for 160.

I didn't care that she was in an '05 Ferrari. I didn't. I've beaten Lamborghini's before...

I passed her at just 170, barely shifting.

"I love you baby!" I yelled, kissing my steering wheel, which wasdressed in a leather sparco cover. Ten more MPH's before I had to shift again.

She shifted again, necking with me. Not at all panicked, I kept going at my regular speed. Everything was blurry. All I really recognized of the vehicle was the color. Green. Uch. One of the grossest colors in God's rainbow.

I shifted, and as I did I blanklyrealized I wasa little faster than her...

She shifted as well. One of us had to hit nitrous.... So I did...

I pushed it in on my wheel- one of the two, small, easily forgotten buttons near the horn. Seemingly unnaffected by the g-force, I pushed on ahead of her. She hit her nitrous too, just to keep up. She wouldn't. I don't care if her car had a jet engine.

I passed her up, by a long shot. Her nitrous ran out early- she shifted into sixth. I however, was only in fifth. She pushed it. Pushed her car to the limit. Just as she did, her car went near a median. Big old, manilla, plain as day Median. Her car was as far as it would go, redlining, just at the end of that red line. She didn't swerve past it in time. She didn't make it.

I turned around and drifted to a halt as I heard and saw her do a 360 against it and crash. Lights flicked on throughout the city. She died on impact. I didn't even get out. I didn't want to. I didn't need to. I knew what happened. I didn't want to deal. In all honesty, I couldn't.

But this didn't stop me from going on.

I was sorry. Her death was both my fault and hers. But what could I do? Nothing. Nothing but go on with my life...