"!!" I yelled, kicking the tire of my car. It was starting to get dark and I'm on in the middle of the highway with a car with no gas in it. "!" I muttered as I got in and turned the emergency blinkers on just in case anyone was nice enough to help the black kid on the side of the road at nightfall. I closed the driver door and waited...

And waited...
And waited...

Boredom started to set in and I became a NASCAR driver. I started making car noises and announcing what was going on.

Suddenly, a very familiar looking face popped in front of the window. I threw my hands up and opened my mouth as wide as I could to scream but nothing came out. I started looking around, mouth still opened and hands still waving around, until my soul can back to me. I throw open the car door and stormed over to the man.

"You could've killed me!" I yelled shoving my finger in him face.

"But your soul returned to your body." he said.

"That's besides the point!" I yelled. "My cars out of gas, I'm hungry, I've missed my favorite show, AND I lost 5 years of my life."

"We'll give you a lift into town." came a voice behind me. I looked at the van and then at the two guys.

"I'm not gonna get gang-banged by a stude and his followers, am I?" I asked looking at the broad shoulders guy.

"Of course not." said the guy who had made me lose the NASCAR race, throwing his arm around my shoulder. "They won'