The Chase | Teen Ink

The Chase

April 21, 2017
By Pilots15 SILVER, Defiance, Ohio
Pilots15 SILVER, Defiance, Ohio
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
The measure of who we are is what we do with what we have.
-Vince Lombardi


I saw the bright reverse lights and heard Nick say, “We have to go now!”  As he said this repeatedly, I grasped my shift lever and shifted the car into drive and started driving.


I have constantly hung out with the same group of friend because we always have fun together. We all enjoy the same activities, and we are all phenomenal kids.  We always have been kids to go out teepeeing or ding dong ditching, but nothing has ever turned out to be real astonishing from it.  On this particular Friday night, the excitement finally struck us. 


On this Friday in the month of March, it was frigid, rainy, and dull.  I went to my baseball practice, and then afterwards we talked.  My friends in this group were Nick, Isaac, and Ryan.  Nick is an average height fifteen-year-old sophomore who is very outgoing and amusing.  Isaac was another fifteen-year-old sophomore at an average height who was goofy but never looked to get in danger.  Ryan was a shorter fifteen-year-old freshman who was the ladies’ man.  I was the tall twig, who was the only guy with his license.  I received my license about two days before this incident.  We decided that we would hang out later that night and go see a movie.


The clock read seven and we all met up at Nick’s giant, reddish brown house and hung out for a little bit, and then we left for the movies.  After guzzling tons of sugary soda and devouring handfuls of buttery popcorn, we were as hyper as an eight year old kid with ADHD who is eating candy, so we felt ready to create some mischief.  We considered the possibilities: teepeeing, ding dong ditching, or egging.  We decided that we didn’t want to get in huge trouble, so we decided ding dong ditching would be good enough.


We had settled on our victim: Garrett Aden’s house.  He lives in the blue and gold town, Ayersville, so we believed it’d be an easy target.  At eleven at night, I parked my jet black, tiny chevy sonic in a dark area beside a firehouse and a patch of mini pine trees.  We slowly crept over and hid beside the neighbor’s truck.  We knocked on the door and windows a few times while seeing people inside, knocking on the door and windows and someone opened up the door and looked.  We hid behind that truck and the grown man shut the door and went back inside.  Ryan walked up to the door to knock one more time, but before he could get there, the man started opening the door so Ryan hid beside this tree.  The guy started creeping towards Ryan with long skinny object, appearing to be a pitchfork.  Whack!  He heaved it around the tree so hard it sounded like he knocked the tree over, barely missing Ryan’s head.  Ryan screamed, “Go! Go! Go!”  We all scampered towards the country road as felt our blood rushing through and filling our veins with adrenaline, while running down the street with this guy chasing us.  Patter patter patter, our feet hit the road as we dashed away.  The man stopped chasing and we ran behind this white, old, abandoned barn.  We were stepping in mud puddles everywhere, making our feet as wet as the ocean floor.  We tried coming up with a plan to get back to the car without getting found.  “Let’s go through the field,” Nick declared.  We crept across the road and saw this same guy holding a shotgun in his arms.  We shook and breathed nervously, seriously scared.  We fled down in the ditch and vaulted across.  Isaac’s foot slipped, making his brand new grey shoes turn dark brown in an instant.  We slithered through this field to the area of my car.  We started to smell pine, so we knew we appeared to be near my car.  We had no idea what we would do considering the fact that the car was right across from his house and the man was outside on his phone.  He hopped in his car and drove down the street, and we all sprinted to the car, I started it and backed up.  I flipped off my headlights so this man wouldn’t see me.  Ryan told me that there was this little road across this little ditch, so I trusted him.  The guy stopped and turned around and headed back to his house.  I slowly went through this little ditch, not seeing a single thing.  Ryan jumped out and called my phone to try to lead my car in the right direction.  A sheriff pulled into the guy's driveway but, we sat in all of these random people's’ back yard, hidden.  I saw the reverse lights of the sheriff and heard Nick yell, “We have to go now!”  As he says this repeatedly, I grasped my shift lever and shifted the car into drive and started driving, seeing this big camper to my left, only six inches away from my mirror.  Isaac was in the back seat shouting, “I can’t get caught; my mom will kill me.”


Suddenly, I heard pounding on my hood and I thought I just hit my friend Ryan.  I almost knocked down a mailbox, but Ryan was fine. He hopped in and demanded, “The path is right there.  Turn on your lights and go!”  I saw the path and flew down it.  As we turned onto Highland Center road, there was this truck, inching closer and then backing away.  We thought this was a sheriff.  I was scared for my life because I didn’t want to lose my license.  The truck turned on a different road.  I sighed with relief and we all just started laughing, talking about how crazy that was.


We all stayed at Nick’s house that night.  We cruised for another ten or more minutes and then went to his house and we went up to his room.  We talked about how notorious this night was and fell asleep.
Waking up the next morning, we all dashed downstairs to the homey smell of butter on the warm fluffy goodness.  Nick’s mom made the best breakfast.  I grabbed a plate and plopped down a soft piece of heaven.  I headed towards the sugary liquid called syrup and slathered my golden brown pancakes.


After we attacked those pancakes, we left for a baseball game.  “What a beautiful day for baseball,” I exulted.  We were all kind of nervous since we knew we’d see Garrett Aden at baseball.  We walked into the big stinky locker room, while we heard Garrett describe the incident:  “My dad was going to shoot them with a shotgun!”  Trying not to look suspicious, I asked, “What are you guys talking about?”  He explained the incident that we caused.  We left the conversation giggling under our breath.



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