“You’re going to need these. You know you will,” he says. As the Kawasaki ninja H2R roars to life. He is talking about my helmet and gloves. In hindsight, helmets do little to stop the crushing weight of an eighteen-wheeler.

Let’s roll it back to the start of the drive. I should have known not to go out today, cops have been more active lately because of me. The weather was also getting worse. There were slick spots on the road now, but I needed that hit, the adrenaline pumping through my system. It wasn’t a craving anymore, it was a need nowadays. Like a junkie needs their, hit I needed mine.

I drop it down to second on the on-ramp and start to merge the engine screaming as I twist the throttle wide like it’s begging to be let out of its perpetual hell. I slam it into the last gear, I’m in my zone at 209 mph. I’m weaving in between cars riding the whites, entering the breakdown lane to pass every time I do it’s a gamble of trying not to hit debris or cars, a gamble that could cost my life.

I get to the point where you don’t want to be, comfortable. Then I see the blue and white as a cop lights me up but I’m already flying past and it’s already over. I got distracted when I saw the cop it distracted me, and I looked back just as I needed to swerve to avoid roadkill. As I correct the rear tire meets the slick of ice. I skid. It would have been fine if I didn’t choose rush hour to ride. Time seems to slow as I separate from my bike, bracing my hands so the hard pads hit instead of the Kevlar which might be torn and burnt away leaving my skin to get the same treatment. I land at just the right angle to see my bike flying into a 2006 Dodge caravan killing the kid in the back. I see the parents up front panic and swerve into the concrete divider. They hit it head-on, the engine gets pushed into their knees, and they will die soon due to blood loss. I slide into a perfectly placed chunk of raccoon roadkill, which kicks me in the air causing me to slam helplessly into the side of a Subaru Outback it instantly breaks my back and paralyzes me. I bounce off the Subaru the same way a ping-pong ball bounces off the paddle. Then my fate is finally revealed when I tumble under the Walmart semi forced to watch the tire as it comes to me and I slide to it forced to watch like an eternal punishment for the chase of my high. It all comes to an end as the rear tire is introduced to the carbon of my helmet which in turn meets my cranial matter as it is introduced to the outside world. The irony isn’t lost on me as I’m just like the raccoon which was placed perfectly to facilitate the ending of my demise. This marks the true end of a junkie both adrenaline and drug what we seek, and what we need kills us its a perpetual cycle that repeats itself time and time again.