Welcome to the Underground :: Free Essay Writer

Welcome to the Underground opus America sleeps safely at night, safe and secure in their world, thither is another world taking place, a menacing and wild world. responsibility beneath their noses, taking place in their super markets, in evacuate warehouses, abandoned buildings, parks, and at roller skating rinks. Many will neer know or hear about this world, for it may be safer not to know. For if one knows, he may be tempted to want to experience this world. plainly indulging one night has been known to alter many a(prenominal) lives. For erst you go to the underground, there is no turning back. We walked towards the castle, drawn like magnets, already sensing the buzz of activity that lay inside. My friends were overly excited from the many energy drinks they had consumed earlier, so as to give them ultimate performance. My friend explained to me that a man named John Bishop built this castle single handedly, with little aid from his family in 1963 and that every year he would add something new to it. It was cuddle in the foothills of Pueblo, Colorado. As we walked closer the butterflies in my stomach flapped faster and to a greater extent vigorously.The moon was shining brightly over our heads the time about midnight, and dummy up our journey had just begun. There were people frolicking everywhere people of totally ages, mostly teenagers though. They were dancing, hugging each other and running around zestfully. nigh were dressed in Baggy jeans. One girl wearing a see-through plastic skirt with her pink daisy underwear displayed for all to view. Others had on doctors masks, were carrying glow sticks, and some even had pacifiers in their. I looked at myself, jeans and a T-shirt. I dont think Im dressed right. I whispered to my friend, a alleged(prenominal) Rave expert. Dont worry babe, nobody is going to care. He replied. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, eject for myself. I knew no one. We were now nearing the ent rance to the castle, each grasping our tickets as if they were the golden ticket in Willy Wonka. I handed my ticket to the doorman, which was interchange for a half hearted pat down by the security guard. I stepped into the world of the rave.