Adventure is defined as “an exciting or unusual experience.”  I think exciting is an understatement.  Adventure makes my heart race, my palms sweat, and red, hot blood pump.  I thought I knew what it was like to feel adrenaline race through me like a racecar zooming around a dirt oval, but I was wrong.  I was so wrong.
As the tangerine sun started it’s journey downward, my best friend and I rushed the back roads of our gloomy hometown.  Whipping a sharp left and sudden right, we arrived at our destination.  As I stepped out of the passenger side of the silver g6, weeds tickled my tanned ankles.   We scrambled to and up the concrete steps to be sure not to be spotted.   Before us stood a heavy, rusted-metal door with a broken glass window that needed a polish.  My best friend, Kaci, stared at me as I reached for the contaminated handle.  Behind the door I had pulled open, pitch-black darkness with glistening light shining in the background filled our eyes.  Kaci and I shuffled through the darkness, glowing with sweat from the sweltering, sun-kissed summer night.  My tiny steps continued with trepidation.  Chin high and shoulders back, Kaci walked confidently into the darkness.  I grabbed the bottom of Kaci’s silky, navy tank top, and she led me through the gloom.  I noticed the leafy green cabinet in front of the mysterious door and the paper-filled binders spilling out.  Finally recovering from the shadows, it became apparent that the ancient factory building was evacuated in a hurry because of the charcoaled scattered papers, dusty work attire, and musky safety goggles throughout the realm.  I observed the fluorescent light trespassing through the broken windows as our only light source.  Soon, my mind drifted and asked questions that are probably irrelevant, but I whispered to Kaci anyway, “Why is this building abandoned?”

Reluctantly, Kaci clarified in a hushed tone, “I don’t really know.  I know a fire happened here not too long ago, but before that I don’t remember what it used to be.  A factory or something.” 

I bent down to gather a charcoaled, yellowed paper and scanned it up and down, side to side.  Realizing I didn’t comprehend the bold letters presented on the page, I let the paper float away like the handcuffs falling from a newly freed prisoner.  As I walked around the lifeless building, broken exit signs hanging from the ceiling brushed my flaming red hair, while crushed glass crunched beneath my size eight feet.  Venturing through the dulled plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling, we reached the outside of the building.  Kaci started climbing a sketchy, yellow ladder attached to the side of the building.  I was hesitant to climb the ladder.  ‘I don’t know if we should do this,’ I thought as my hands trembled near my thighs.  As Kaci conquered the ladder, she signaled for me to join her on top of the blackened roof.  From the rooftop, the aroma of fresh paint and sugary McDonald’s coffee blasted into my nose.  Kaci first pointed out the bright McDonald’s lingering across the way. I shifted my focus to the scent of paint and asked, “Why can I smell paint?”

Kaci lifted her thin-as-a-toothpick arm and directed her first finger at the house a couple streets down.  A towering man with dark brown hair and dirty arms climbed a tipsy ladder and carried a bucket of paint matched to his hair.  My best friend flung her arms out like a plane taking off, tiptoed across the slate gray panels, and blurted, “Follow me!”  I followed as if I were the police following a suspect, still in a rush from the adrenaline of being caught.  Cautiously, I examined the holes revealing the dimension beneath.  Large, round, easy-to-fall-into gaps were distributed atop the building.  After making a lap around the rooftop, we retreated back to ladder.  Sitting on the back pockets of her jean shorts first, Kaci descended the building.  I repeated her movements, and we progressed back into the building.   

As the sun disappeared behind the fields of lengthy oak trees, my best friend and I hustled to the g6 we left behind.  We sank into our seats and cleared the sweat on our foreheads from the hot day and fear of the law.  Kaci maneuvered stealthily to the McDonald’s we spotted earlier, and we grabbed two medium iced caramel coffees.  As we sipped on the light brown treat and gossiped about yesterday’s news, I realized that everywhere I go with my best friend is an adventure, and every day with her is an adventure waiting to happen.