Sneaking Out: a Personal Memoir

More Than Just a Rebellious Act It wasn’t the first time I had felt that crisp breeze hit my face. I closed the door behind me hoping my parents wouldn’t hear it squeak as it sealed off my family room. I took a deep breath in letting the adrenaline run through me, and letting out the anxiety of getting caught. What would happen if they had? I have only been grounded once my whole life and that was when I was five years old. I’m not saying there wouldn’t be any repercussions but nothing more severe than a warning to be careful, but neither parent would say “You are forbidden to sneak out of this house.” I hoped my dogs hadn’t woken from their snoring slumber. I imagined Lincoln clamoring down the stairs, his collar jingling, to investigate the disturbance. It didn’t matter the consequences, my parents knew I was a responsible young adult. I heard Drew’s mustang coming down the street and I stepped off the old deck. The anticipation of getting away with this mischievous act was enough to propel me over the fence. Drew and Randall were waiting in the cul-de-sac, the car’s engine purring me from the side yard and into the backseat. “Will your parents wake up?” Drew asked, I replied with a shake of my head no, and he drove the speed limit back to his house. Even though it was just a mile down the road I was too scared to walk there in the dark by myself. I let the wind hit my face and the music hit my mind and enjoyed the presence of two guys who don’t care when I wear my glasses, men’s boxers, and look like a wreck. Drew’s garage was open as we pulled into the driveway, with three chairs lined up waiting for us. Drew and Randall smoked their cigarettes and talked about fast cars, races, and other automotive topics. I pretend I’m listening, but I tuned them out the moment my legs stuck to the black leather. Yes, I liked spending time with them, and that’s why I always called them up, but sneaking out had become so much more for me. Sneaking out was sitting in a