The Ghost in His Mirror
"
I looked at the helmet under Mason's foot. A crack had already appeared across the visor.
It was the helmet my father had once worn.
Slowly, I loosened my fists, bent down, and reached for it.
Mason pressed harder, pinning it in place.
"Beg me." He smiled arrogantly, as if looking at a beaten dog.
"Kneel and beg, and I'll give this piece of junk back to you."
I lifted my eyes and looked at his smug face.
"Mason Vale, you'd better pray that tomorrow, your taillights stay on in front of me."
I yanked hard and pulled the helmet out from under his foot.
Mason's foot slipped. He stumbled and nearly fell.