adrenaline - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
I did a biology class once. Apparently adrenaline is activating my sympathetic nervous system, making my heart beat faster, diverting blood to my muscles and away from my gut. Flight or fight right? Well all I know is that I love it. I'm addicted to it. It's my drug of choice. The scarier the better man. Scary movie, scary water slides, scary theme park rides, the gnarliest snowboarding and long-boarding down the steepest slope in the town. But I'm not as bad as my mate Teddy. He plays chicken on the unguarded rail tracks and shop-lifts for kicks. He's got money but he don't care a bit. He gives the stuff away at school the next day, don't even want it. He keeps telling me to come with him, he knows I'm as big of a junkie for it as he is. I'm thinking about it...
Bullets whizzed over his head as he ran away from The Crocodiles, a crime organization he'd been sent in to gather intel on. Adrenaline coursed through his system as a fight or flight instinct. In this case is was run away with your tail between you legs. But it didn't matter to him he had to get away. He knew he would never out run them. He looked back. They were closing in. He had to make it to the van. He saw out of his corner of his eyes as one of them was almost close enough to make a grab for him. He turned around with the pepper spray MI5 had given him. The operative fell over screaming and clawing at his eyes. He turned almost too late to see a motorbike racing towards him. The rider had taken aim with a flamethrower. He didn't have any gadgets left. So he legged it. He finally reached the van and fumbled with his keys. A hail of bullets rocked the van, puncturing side and the gas tank. In moments the van exploded, engulfed in an inferno of orange flame.
Gunshots ran gout from all around him and planes flew overhead, his heart beat in his chest, pounding, banging, trying to get out. He ran forward, every second barley escaping death, he felt as though his blood were on fire. His limbs were moving on their own. He was disconnected from everything but the ever present sound of his drumming heart.
I have walked these streets my whole life, I know them just the same as if they were etched in my head with a sharp knife, scored in deep like some strange work of art. These are the streets I grew up on and for the most part I'm calm here, at home, on the down low with a steady heart beat. Not tonight though. Tonight my heart wants out of my chest. It wants to beat free of its cage. It pounds like it's going to crack a rib. My senses are on high alert. Every colour is brighter, every noise louder, every stranger a cause to make my heart beat more fiercely still. It's been like that since the bikers came to town, marking out their turf like a wolf pack. I don't even deal drugs but they mean to dominate everyone regardless. They've got Kenny dealing for them already, there goes his grades, there goes his life. So now the streets that were my salvation spike my adrenaline as good as a shot to the arm.
The rock falls away beneath my feet. I know there is a ledge, otherwise I'd be falling, but I can't see it at all. If I turn my head too far I could unbalance and the drop is further than I can see. Already the adrenaline coursing unchecked, urging me to do what I cannot. Sure my muscles are stronger and I'm more awake than I've ever been, but this isn't a situation where running hard for a long time is going to help. There are hand holds here, I know it. I just have to think back to my training. It's so easy in the gym with the air conditioning and the smiling staff. Out here there's no safety rope, no soft mats to land on. I wish the human body was wired differently, I wish I could get the increased strength without the urge to run but I can't. All I have is the rock, the wind and a long way down. How could I have thought this would ever be fun?
The adrenaline floods my system like it's on an intravenous drip - right into my blood at full pelt. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide, letting in every ounce of the fading light. My body wants to either run fast for the hills or work to find weaponry, but instead I stay right where I am. Sometimes freezing is the best of the choices, and let's face it, there really are only three. I want to quell the hammering in my chest, but there's no way that will happen now. I don't regret it though, coming here to the compound, it was my mission after all. How come all those spies in the movies weren't ever scared? Maybe they were, maybe they were scared all the time, perhaps that's what bravery really is. The compound lights come on, unusual for this time of night. My adrenaline surges so fast I almost vomit, I can taste the saliva thickening my my mouth to a rancid paste. At some point I'll have to move. In the shows I watch there is an earpiece that says, "Go" or at least some tactical information, but with the new technology the enemy has developed it's just not an option. All I get is a black jumpsuit and meal ration...
When the exam comes closer I'm all of a tingle. My body is reacting like there's a gorilla about to beat the crap out of me instead of being faced with a sheet of history questions. In the cool of the classroom I can ace this stuff, I know I can. I drink it in, horror though it is for the most part - who conquered who, who killed who, people who rose to power and abused it – fascinating stuff. But my body is preparing for a marathon instead of sitting still for a couple of hours. I'm going to sit on that plastic chair while my brain fights the urge to walk -no run like hell - out the door. I won't though, I'll sit and write the test, but when my mind is in full on freak-out mode it's hard recall the details.
The flash is enough to near blind me and my body reacts like there's a gun to my head. My muscles are frozen in place but filled with such a tingling pressure I want to run until my body is empty – put as much distance between myself and the bomb as possible. But all I see right now is loose forms with colour and I need the world to come back into view before I can run. I know it's adrenaline. Perhaps fleeing is the dumbest move, I wouldn't know, my brain is too fried to analyse the options. If my heat beats any harder, any louder, I might as well stick a spotlight on my head. My eyes are popped open so hard I couldn't blink if I wanted to and all the while I just want to run. Hiding might be better but I can't, all this energy has to go somewhere. As soon as I can make out forms, forms but no detail I burst from my dark spot and make for the forest. In the trees I can camouflage blend, trek away from this spot all night if I have to.
My heart is pounding in my chest but I try to ignore it and slow my breathing. The only reason I'm not dead right now is because it hasn't found me yet. I silently grip the bedpost, trying to calm myself, if it hears my panting it's all over. Just as I begin to feel the sweat that I'm covered in, I feel something cold wrap around my ankle. A hand, a cold hand with long nails. As it tries to drag me I keep a firm grip of the bed post, my fear giving me extra strength. I try to hold on but it's too strong ,so I reach out for a weapon instead, gripping something hard and metallic. I pull it close then swing madly at the attacker. Even when it doesn't move i cannot stop myself, my will to survive is to strong.
Heart pumping, head spinning, lungs bursting and body screaming for more... Every muscle craves relaxation as blood courses miles of veins and a pulse sounds in my ears... ba-boom, ba-boom. It's a glimpse of heaven for a few seconds. I love it. Wait. What do you call this again? Oh yeah, adrenaline.
You speak those words so casually, aware of the fear they bring. You speak them to control my brain and body, and they do. Why else would I follow all these stupid rules. You say you want my spirit to soar, to rise, to become as the eagle flies... yet you cause these adrenaline surges over and over that cut my wings until they bleed. This adrenaline from fear is my invisible shackles, it is the poison in my veins and it is the whip in your hand. So drop it. Talk to me with love, as a parent who thinks I am their world, and I'll fly higher than you ever dreamed possible.
Adrenaline floods my system, It pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. My body wants to either run fast for the safety of the hills or to the crate of weaponry, but instead I remain where I am. Let's face it, there is really only one thing I can do: Pray no one kills me. I want to take one great leap off the pressure plate and run to safety. My adrenaline surges so fast I almost vomit, I can taste saliva thickening in my throat and beads of sweat trickling down my brow. At some point I'll have to move, and I’ll have to live with what I get. And all I get is a black jumpsuit, one weapon, a backpack of stuff, and meal pin so people know when I die...