Things of Nightmares.

                                    

                                          
~Dream~
                          
"Babes, turn it up! I can't hear anything but the bass!" I yell into Damian's ear, poking him in the side repeatedly, trying to grab his attention just in case he didn't hear me. He shakes his head, letting me know that he has indeed acknowledged my existence, sending me a sly smile back when he turns down another deserted road.
                          
"It's loud enough! We don't need to be waking up the entire state of New York, do we? That's not why we are out here!" He hollers back to me and I huff, letting my arms fall limp at his sides. I don't even know why we are out here in the first place.
                          
"Come on Damian! You drag me all the way out to the middle of nowhere without telling me why you brought me out here and then expect me to just blindly ride with you to the end of the state?! No way. So, the least you can do is turn up the radio so I can actually hear the music!"
                          
I punch him lightly in the side, knowing that it won't do any real damage, but wanting to get my point of being peeved off across to him. He takes a hand off the handlebar, holding it to his side like he has just been shot. I can see him begin to cringe, though the spontaneous bursts of vibrations through-out my body tell me that he is trying not to laugh. He slowly lets the bike swerve to the left, into the oncoming lane of traffic that stands abandoned. This action causes me to involuntarily tighten my grip around his waist, before pushing my chest against his back. He knows I hate it when he does that; he does it to intentionally get under my skin.
                          
After he straightens the bike and I am positive that we are not going to go sliding across the pavement, I punch him again. This makes him laugh maniacally, sending a round of heavy vibrations through my body. I love it when he laughs. Makes him sound like he doesn't have a care in the world. He takes a hand off of the handlebar once more and I think that he is going to repeat the aforementioned action, but he reaches a hand out to the stereo, slowly turning the volume up all the way. Finally letting the lyrics of some one-hit wonder pop song be heard as they rush past my ears, straight into the wind as well as the dust behind us.
                          
 Im sitting behind behind him, inching closer so I dont fall off the back of the bike while we are riding, wrapping my arms around his waist. I can see his hair flowing in the wind because he isnt wearing a helmet and I am. He isn't the best person when it comes to safety, but that doesn't bother me. He is probably the best driver I know on the back of a motorcycle. 
                          
We are speeding down the stranded roads of New York, listening to the hum of the engine as I watch the sun inch over the horizon, seeping its way into the Earth. Covering every inch of land in warmth. It snakes its way through the trees, over every rock, leaving no crevice untouched by the light.  I lay my head on Damian's shoulder, letting the warm leather of his jacket heat my face. 
                          
"Are you ever going to tell me where the hell we are going?! Y'know, I really don't feel like skipping school," I can feel his chest expand as he lets out a sigh, looking at me from the side.
                          
"Psh, Just calm down Gwynnie. Let me do the driving, okay?" He turns his head to the side, sending me a hundred-watt smile. That smile has gotten him out of a lot of trouble since he learned the type of power that it has over people. Like a con-artist who tricks all the ladies out of their husband's money.
                          
" Can't you just tell me?" Now I am getting frustrated. He turns his head back all the way around to face me for a split second, and thats all it takes. That's when I see it.
                          
I see the car speeding towards the intersection that we are coming up on. I am apparently the only one that notices the catastrophe that is about to occur. I open my mouth to tell Damian to turn around. To warm him about what is going on, but it's too late. The navy blue Volkswagen is speeding down the road at a speed of at least 75 miles per hour with our speed matching or even exceeding it. I know what comes next. Damian must finally sense that something is wrong by the look on my face, because his head whips around to the front. He slams on the brake. I can hear the tires squeal but there is no stopping this.