I was woke from a deep slumber by the sun streaming in through my open window. I inwardly cursed at myself. I must have forgotten to close it the night before. Quickly, before Dad, who was working in the yard below, could notice that it was open, I stumbled over and shut and latched it.

A headache pounded my head harshly. I pressed my fist to my temple, trying to reduce the pain. A harsh knock sounded at my door. I threw it open and snapped, "What?" Carrie stood in the doorway, looking taken aback by my tone.

"I just brought you some Advil," she mumbled, and tossed me the bottle. I caught it easily.

"Thanks, I guess," I said, looking down. Carrie nodded and backed out of the doorway. I sighed, watching her disappearing figure. She was so slim. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Tipping back the Advil bottle, I swallowed four pills dry. After that, I made my way back to my bed, setting the Advil on the table, and waited for the pills to kick in.

About dinnertime, I rose from bed, feeling much better. The headache was completely gone. "Now I can do shit," I mumbled to myself, and got up to go look for an outfit. I stood in front of my closet, debating the options. Finally, I settled on my spiked black boots, a slick, black, leather jacket, my favorite Panic! At The Disco shirt, and a pair of leather biking pants. Smiling in satisfaction, I slipped on my leather gloves and snuck downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and Dad was on the couch watching a football game. Carrie, I assumed, was chatting with friends in the privacy of her room. "Hey, Mom!" I shouted into the kitchen. "Yeah?" she called back, not looking up from her bread dough. "I'm going over to a friend's for dinner!" "Okay!"

I rolled my eyes as I backed out of the kitchen. If it was Carrie telling her that, she would have freaked out and asked all sorts of questions like, what friend it is, what time to expect her back by, etc. But, not with me.

I slipped out the front door and walked to the garage, where I kept my baby. "Hey, sweetheart!" I shouted to the glistening black motorcycle sitting elegantly atop the concrete. "Did you miss me?"

I mounted her quickly and kick-started it. I pressed the button on my remote and the garage door slid open. I put the remote in my pocket, leaned forward, and floored it.

My motorcycle and I shot like a cannon from the gray confines of the garage, and onto the street in front of the house. I quickly increased my speed and barreled down streets, avenues, and boardwalks. It wasn't long before I reached my destination, where I was meeting my best friend, Cassie Collins.

I drove right up to the old, crumbling bridge and put my motorcycle in park. I jumped off just as Cassie came rolling up and did the same. We embraced, and then walked out onto the bridge to talk. As she started telling me about what she had to do in order to get out of the house, I took the moment to take in her appearance.

Cassie was a beautiful, African-American 'bad girl' with a head of curly black hair. Her eyes were ice blue, so unlike my own boring hazel ones. Her eyelashes were thick and framed her eyes in a way that drove all of the boys mad. She was very slim and always used that to her advantage, wearing belly shirts and skimpy bikinis in the summer. It was late fall, however, so Cassie was wearing somewhat appropriate clothing. She had on a leather jacket much like my own, skinny jeans, and red Converse. Looking sideways, I smiled when I caught sight of her amulet hanging from her neck. It matched my own, which was on my neck as usual but tucked into my shirt.

When Cassie and I first met, we loathed each other. We were both the 'rebels' of the school, and it used to make us rivals. We felt the need to compete for the title of the ultimate bad girl. But soon, we started to become friends instead of enemies. We were still competitive with one another, but in a friendly way. Now, instead of being cruel to each other, we raced and had mini-competitions and tried new, daring things.

Soon, we became closer than Cassie nor myself had ever been with anyone before. We announced ourselves as each other's best friend on the same day that school ended last year. When she told me she thought of me as her best friend, Cassie gave me a present, too.

The present was a half-moon amulet. She wore the other half around her neck. Together, the two necklaces fit together perfectly, and made a full moon. I had always thought of it as the best gift that I'd ever been given. Ever since that day, Cassie and I have never taken our amulets off.

Cassie tugged at my sleeve, slapping me back into reality. "Look," she said, and pointed at the water below us. I looked where she was, and saw that a school of silver-gray fish had just begun to swim underneath the bridge. The water was so clear that I could see each of their fins.

The river that Cassie and I were above was on the very outskirts of town. Everyone had always said that it was a miracle that the river survived the huge drought that had plagued the entire country, including our little city in Oklahoma, during the 1930s. Yet, somehow, the river had managed to survive for centuries. It was the one landmark that I always loved.

Oklahoma was, overall, a sleepy state. We lived in the city, but it wasn't an overly large city. It took only about fifteen minutes to drive through the entire thing, and only thirty to get to the outskirts of the town - the farmland. Mom and Dad moved Carrie and I here when we were eight, about a year after Hannah and Lisa died. We had been there ever since. In all honesty, I liked Oklahoma - I just liked Alabama, where we used to live, more.

"Hey," Cassie said, waving a hand in front of my face and startling me from my thoughts. "Let's go! I have to be home before dark or Dad will flip shit." I turned towards my motorcycle, shaking my head. Her father was an angry drunk that hit her and her mother whenever they did something that displeased him, which could be anything from breaking a glass to missing a speck of food while washing a tray. I took Cassie out of her house and away from her father as much and for as long as I could every day.

Cassie mounted her motorcycle, which was a gleaming black one with a barbed wire fence painted on it. I did the same, smiling proudly at my own, which sported a silver star on the fuselage. "Ready to race?" Cassie asked, beaming.

"Ready to kick your ass."

We revved our bikes to a start at the exact same time, and took off.

Cassie and I flew down Main Street, past the farmer's market, which was selling little bags of apples and oranges. We sailed past the tattoo parlor and the pawn shop. "I'm winning!' I cried in joy as I pulled ahead of my best friend. "Not for long, punk!" was the challenging answer.

We drove out into the secluded farmland that no one really owned anymore, and found our spot. It was a huge, grassy field of towering hills that made it look like some meadow out of a Disney movie. We had been there so many times before that our tires had made ruts in the earth from us crisscrossing and figure-eighting around the entire field hundreds of times over.

Cassie shared a joyful look with me and then shoved her throttle forward, heading straight for the first set of hills. I laughed and veered off to the second set.

As I shot through the dense pasture, I couldn't be happier. I could feel the cool wind kissing my face and my long, brown hair flew from my hood and whipped behind me like a flag. The satisfying purr of my baby's engine set off a spark of adrenaline inside me. I laughed for the sheer joy of it, and glanced over at Cassie. Her wide smile told me that she was having just as much fun as I was.

It was exhilarating to be so out in the open. Rattling pedestrians as we sped by was always fun, but that hilly field with my best friend by my side was where I truly felt free.

By the time Cassie rolled to a slow stop, the sun was casting a yellow-orange blanket over our field. We had worn new tracks into the soil, and the few flowers that were originally there had been crushed by our massive tires.

We parked our motorcycles at the base of what Cassie and I called 'Deadman's Landing'. It was a steep slope that neither of us had ever tried to climb with our cycles. It was so risky that it would be completely foolhardy for anyone to even attempt it. Cassie and I may have served a reputation of being daredevils, but we weren't stupid.

Cassie and I sat a short distance away from our bikes and watched the colors in the sky change from orange to pink. "Look what I got," Cassie said suddenly, and jogged over to the saddle bag on her motorcycle. When she returned, I saw that she was holding a bottle of vodka.

"This is why you're my best friend," I said seriously, and grabbed the bottle from her. She laughed as I took a sip. "I knew you'd want it. I'm good for tonight; Dad was in a bitchy mood when I left, so if he smells alcohol on me, I'm fucking dead." I nodded in understanding and continued to drink, solo.

The sun slipped down behind the clouds and the sky began to turn darker. Cassie sighed. "I guess I better get going before it gets completely dark. Thanks for taking me out, Reesy. Love you!"

"Love you too," I singsonged back, folding my arms around her quickly. When I released her, she made a beeline for her cycle, mounted, and was off in a flash. I waved my hand in a goodbye gesture as she sped off into the night.

After a few minutes, I drank the rest of the vodka and tossed the bottle off somewhere. I got on my motorcycle and headed straight for the old playground, where the sandbox that I watched the stars in was.

When I arrived, I quickly leaned my bike against the railing, and laid down in the warm, comfortable sand. My arms automatically looped behind my head and folded together, serving as my pillow. There were many stars that night, and as I laid in the sand, staring up at the glittering, silver orbs, my mind began to crawl back in time.

When I was a toddler, I was loved by almost everyone. I remembered baking cookies with my mother and laughing about the fact that we ate more cookie dough than we baked. I remembered riding wild thrill rides with my dad whenever we went to amusement parks and county fairs. Carrie was always too scared to. One time, my father took me and my mom parasailing. I was only five at the time, but I still loved it. Flying through the open sky like I had then was the best feeling in the entire world. I could see the ocean and the boats and the rest of my family from up there. Everything was so small compared to us and I felt so needed that I believed it. It was only when I hit my teenage years that reality began to kick in.

When I turned thirteen, Mom took me by the shoulders and said, "You're a teenager now babe. You have to act your age. You have to set an example for Carrie. You have to be what some people can't."

At the time, I didn't understand that. Now, I understood that my mother was trying to tell me that I had to start being an adult and being a responsible person. She wanted me to hold my own at the house. Sitting in the sandbox, I instinctively knew that I wasn't 'holding my own' as she had wanted me to. Yet, I couldn't seem to stop what I was doing. Ever since I hit adolescence, I had been a hurricane. I'd had only two boyfriends in my entire life, aside from pointless one-night stands, but I was enough to keep anyone's hands full without the added worry of a boy.

Unlike me, Carrie was 'holding her own'. She was an honor roll student with a GPA of 3.5, and was well-liked by all of her teachers and classmates alike. Her and her friends were among the popular girls who ran our school. I despised them all. All they did was talk about boys and hair and clothes and makeup. Sometimes, I thought Carrie wasn't really a part of it. Sometimes, I would see her walking behind her two other friends, Brittany and Melissa, like she wasn't important enough to walk with them. I would catch her sneaking glances at boys that were nowhere near her type, boys that wore tie-dye t-shirts and beanies and listened to Green Day and My Chemical Romance.

But, despite all of the things I'd noticed, Carrie was still Carrie. She still gossiped about people and boys, and walked with her clique up and down the halls. It wasn't like she didn't want to be there.

It was especially obvious that she loved her spot as one of the popular students when she won the title of Miss Merry Christmas last year. She wasn't even modest about it, either. I overheard her bragging about beating out Abigail McDonough for the spot to her friends one day, and it made me want to punch her in the face, sister or not.

Carrie had won so many awards over the years that it was almost ridiculous. As a sophomore, her bookcase shouldn't be filled with trophies. She had won valedictorian of her class in the 8th grade, and had had to give a speech at eighth grade graduation, which I ditched, much to my parents' displeasure. She had also won things at basketball games, which she cheered for. Yep, you heard that right. My sister is a cheerleader. No, I'm not proud of that.

She had gotten the most votes for prettiest face in Asher High, and she had been elected ninth grade prom queen last year. For every single year, ever since seventh grade, she had been the homecoming queen. This year, she was in the runnings for the Corn Princess, which is a title given to one girl in Asher High that shows an overabundance of pride and love for our farmland. Then, whoever is the Corn Princess gets to wear a dress and a sash and be towed around the town in a wagon filled with hay. It was, in fact, pretty corny.

Carrie always won everything. This year alone, she was the homecoming queen, Miss Merry Christmas, probably the Corn Princess, the vice-president of Student Council, and the captain of the cheerleading squad. Despite the fact that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of those, I still envied her for all of the attention that she got.

For once, just once, I wished someone would give a damn about me.

I dug a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket, and lit one up. I didn't usually smoke, but sometimes I just craved a hit of nicotine. Taking a long breath in of the stale cigarette smoke, I thought about how much danger I had intentionally put myself in for the last five months. I had started smoking, I had done and was doing drugs, I had drank a lot almost every night of the week, I never wore my helmet when riding my motorcycle anymore, if I was in a car, I always went without a seatbelt, and I had snuck out and wandered down the streets of Oklahoma at all hours of the night almost every day.

My future was looking pretty grim.