.
Watching all the boys trying to play ball with the men always entertained me. Cocky teens trying to get in the next race never knowing that as long as he was here it would never happen, they would never win. He was what I thought I needed at the time. He was different. Not in the preppy way or the punk way. He was so different, so cocky and sure of himself . He was wild and untamed. I saw something in his attitude. I wanted to tame him and make him mine. And so I made him mine, through all the drama he became mine. I was quickly pushed head first it seemed into the his world.
It was not what I wanted at first, but soon I couldn't imagine going back. This world had completely consumed every fiber of my being. I found myself constantly being the center of all attention. Not that I minded it all that much. I was started to find solace in having a life that allowed me to be a part time superstar. I could have a completely normal life during the day and be a superstar at night. I was the angel of the race track.
I often considered myself to be the only pure women there, watching girls whore their asses around like they were working a street corner in L.A. while I watched silently, holding on to my innocents by a tread. I knew deep down that it would all fade away. All the while I wondered if these girls were once in the same position I was in at the very moment. Holding onto my boy for dear life while the world around was moving so fast. Trying to play a role I didn't yet know if I was able to handle.
The only time I ever spoke was when I was spoken to. so different from my life during the day. Holding back my words when all I wanted to was scream out and be one the many cheering form the sidelines.
As time went on I was more vocal I suppose. Still silently smoking down my Marlboro light 100's on the sideline but now not afraid to hold my own. The cars becoming increasingly faster and louder. I had no idea of the events that would soon over come me. I had made a name for myself. I witnessed firsthand the life I got myself into. The endless parties and races. Trying to hold onto some resemblance of my former life as I changed. As time passed, I found myself enthralled in the life.
I was no longer just a street racers girlfriend, I was the women on the front lines in a mans world. I wasn't just the girl he took home, I became his everything. His rock and strength when things got to be too much for him. When things became a routine I was the one mixing it up. keeping him on edge.
One night changed everything for us. My strength, my soul and savior was gone. I remember seeing my only one cry the second he got the call. He held me so tight, promising me that would never be him. That it was a fluke and that it would never happen to him. He said he needed me.
It was a week from my birthday. A Saturday afternoon as I recall. I picked up the phone on the third ring. Not thinking that things would happen as they did. I remember the calmness in her voice as she stated those words. "He's dead." I couldn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Later I was told that I had actually fallen to the floor in tears. Something to this day I cant remember.
"Why are you lying to me" were the only words that came from his mouth. His best friend, my angel, was now dead. An accident had taken him from me.
I returned to school the next day. Tired and heartbroken. Back to my perverted French teacher and his questions about my latest romance and all my friends. I couldn't tell them what had happened. I couldn't even tell myself it was true. To me it wasn't. I returned home for the funeral. Still not believing it was true. I felt arms around me as I slowly smoked down a cigarette on the front steps of the funeral parlor. I imagined for a second it was him. Wrapping his arms around me to show he was still there. As I looked up, I realized it wasn't. It would never be him.
We tried our best to work things out. We never could. The street scene was never the same. Everyone had his name silently on their tongue. Never saying why things were off. The races always went off without a hitch. My love no becoming the center of attention. He never wanted to be in the spotlight. He, like me, always wanted to be on the outside. Afraid of being the one everyone looked up to. We had changed positions.
I held my head up high. My car newly painted and waxed. I felt him wrap his arms around. I went to lean into them when I realized there was no one there. That was when I knew I had to do it.
I walked silently to my car. Waiting for the money to exchange hands until making my move to the starting line. All odds were on me winning but I didn't care. I didn't care about the money and fame. Nothing mattered to me that night. Everything moved so slow. I slammed the gas down. Getting the perfect launch I had planned and practiced for. I took home the prize that night.
Now that months have passed, it's still not the same. Things have gotten worse. I can feel the weight on my shoulders constantly. My only release are the drugs. Going through this pain made me numb to everything. The only thing that made it better was the speed. Not the speed from underneath the hood of my car, but the speed that came in pill form. Helping me to feel what I needed but not feel my emotions.
Things went from bad to worse. The weight becoming increasingly unbearable and painful. I watched the sparkle leave my baby's eyes. I took on the responsibilities of running the garage since he would no longer go to the place his best friend and him started from nothing. He never knew how much it hurt me to see him like this.
So now I lie here in our bathroom of our lavish home. All paid for out our hard work and race money. My mind slipping in and out of logic as I feel the adderal, valium and Malibu taking over. I needed him so badly right then. I knew he wouldn't be home for hours and I hoped to be gone by then. The blood from where I hit my head on the counter still dripping down the right side of my face. I thought about I all. Everything. My car crash, my cars and what had happened to get me to this point. I could feel my chest getting heavy and the breathes becoming shorter and more strained with every second that passed by. I looked out our floor to ceiling windows in our bathroom at my loves. My cars all lined up in a row on our side lawn. That was all I had I had to show for my life. Amazing machines. I had done modifications to them that I wanted. They were done and so was I.