The Dark Gray Motorcycle

“Hey Joe, you up yet? Faster now before the sun rises and shines. Oh, dig up Bobby and John from their dreams will yea? Thanks.” said Billy cheerfully.

“Okay…” muttered Joe miserably. It was a freezing, lugubrious morning. No signs of life could be seen on the flat horizon; there was only the sound of the frigid winter wind weaving through the landscape. But Billy was in frenzy about this trip to Jade Mountain. He pictured himself lying on the rarely seen snow doing activities people do in Paradise. He thought to himself, ‘what a favor I did for my friend to see this marvelous sight.’ Tip-toeing across his parents’ room, he zoomed downstairs to the garage like a dog that had rabies, and settled himself onto his dark gray motorcycle.

Speeding over-speed, Billy reached their meeting place in a blink of an eye. All three of his friends were right behind him arriving just on time. “Hey Billy, didn’t you prepare breakfast for us?” questioned John, who’s stomach growled while he talked.

“I did bring some water, but that’s it. I clearly pointed out yesterday afternoon to bring your won beverages.” explained Billy. With that being said, they set off their journey with their dark gray motorcycles riding into the dark road that led to the mountain.



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The clock ticked five o’clock and the sun was still unseen on the horizon. Roaming up the curvy roads shaped like snakes, the four friends came to rest at a platform in between the junction of passages leading both up and down the altitude. There had been absolutely no vehicles or people throughout the trip so far, which is fairly reasonable since the stinging wind was hammering against them forcing them to shiver, like a rattler’s tail. Billy handed them some drinks to boost their energy level for further endurance against the deadly weather.

After 15 minutes of rest, the group set off having quenched their thirst. With boredom slowly dominating Billy’s mind, he thought of some sort of entertainment. Since they are able to see the reflection of the glamorous forest more clearly, he thought the group could just speed up a little more. After all, they haven’t encountered a human being for about an hour. Hitting the throttle, he zoomed past Joe, John, and Bobby in no time. “Don’t you think you can race past me Billy” screamed Bobby, a former motorcycle racer. With that trigger of excitement from Billy, the group raised from 30 to 40 to 50 miles per hour and up. The sound of the engines echoed around the corners of the forest.

Then the unexpected happened…



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As they rounded the mountain roads heating up the asphalt with friction, a silhouette of a fragile old grandma suddenly appeared. It was too late for the four racing 60 mph. Tires squealed, leaving morbid marks of the vehicle, brakes were hit as they veered to the side just enough to avoid contact with the old grandma and crashed into the fence and rocks. Everything happened extremely fast. The world spinned, excruciating pain shot through Billy’s nerves, and all was black. He couldn’t feel anything and the last thought hanging in Billy’s mind was plainly regret.



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