Staring down two opposing tunnels, one of which strongly contradicted my upbringing, I am overwhelmed with an offensive odor I have not smelt before. Akin to a wrestling match taking place inside me, morals and direction are being pressed against the rubber, red ropes, in a tag-team match with curiosity and social-pressure. My parents and teachers disappear behind smoke at midnight. I had been in this place before. ‘The Lot’, my peers and I had affectionately declared it; this neighborhood shared high-grass field was home to many childhood adventures. Seasons changed, but The Lot remained valuable. A baseball stadium with a distant left field wall in the summer, transformed into a white palace in the winter. Two of the companions that journeyed with me then are by my side on …show more content…
Our whole lives can be a big misunderstanding, but certain moments still feel unique. They are capable of transcending your personality, as you subscribe to the perceptions granted by the populous. My friends, however, were patrons of stereotype. The notion that this was merely the next stage in the teenage journey. I was envious of their relentlessness, though proud of my constitution. The gusts of wind assault us, sending my scarf’s coarse fringes into a frenzy towards my bright-red cheeks. My eyes race around, acknowledging landmarks from a previous life. That’s where we placed home plate. That’s the tall pine tree Tommy Bernstein collided with chasing after a football in the third grade. Over there is where Joey Feinblatt’s dad would use his snow blower to manufacture a hill for our sleds. I detect their bloodshot eyes beginning to reengage. My heart rate accelerates, fearing their detection of my reluctance. My brain trampolines across my head, rendering it useless when I need it most. My cheeks mimic a pair of tomatoes. The Lot expands to the length of a deep blue sea, yanking along my friends with its powerful riptide. I am drowning in peer