He quickly locked the door, thinking it’s the safer thing to do. He tried to help her up but she pushed away, crying. He kept asking what was wrong...and she kept saying no, please don’t kill me, I’m not cold. He tried to calm her, he gave her some water and she accepted it and sat next to the couch on the floor still shivering. He asked her what happened and she stared crying again, he held her hand and said its gonna be okay, I’m here, not knowing what he would be up against, all he knew was. I changed into my riding gear. A full set of black with neon pink (it had been neon green) piping with kevlar lining. My helmet was a full face model with flip-up visor; it was also neon pink with flame graphics.Grabbing my keys and gloves, I kissed mom and dad, told them I was going riding until time to start dinner. In later years, I would be carrying a cell phone, but at this time they were like carrying a brick and were too expensive.I pulled my 1990 Yamaha TW 200 of the garage and started. More

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