• If you’re a kid growing up near the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City, you’ve probably been in a tunnel or two. ‘Cause let’s face it: they are literally just about everywhere. Big tunnels, small tunnels, wide tunnels, even tunnels that connect to the subway tunnels. But how do I know so much about these tunnels, you may ask, that’s ‘cause I’m the tunnel spelunking champ around these parts. Just ask any kid who lives within a ten-mile radius of Brooklyn, and they’ll proudly announce my name, J.R Wells, and point you in my direction. Of course, there’s one tunnel that I’ve never dared to go in, neither any kid under the age of 14. They call it Hell’s gate, or for the little kids, Heck’s gate. It’s a five minute walk from the base of the ‘Bridge, on the bank of the river underneath a two story bakery call Sam’s and Son’s. The wafting scent of cakes and bread may seem inviting, but the tunnel will literally send you, knees shaking, as far away from that bakery as you can be. Hell’s gate is about as wide as three adults, and just as tall. No one I know has ever been more that four feet in the tunnel. That’s when you can no longer see direct sunlight, and you start getting what I call cave darkness. Turn your lights off, throw all your blankets over your head, and cover your eyes with your fingers. Cave darkness is about a thousand times darker than that. You start to feel like you’re finally dead, and you get the fabled Hell’s gate shakes. Your knees lock, and your whole body starts shaking your brains out of your ears.
    All the kids in New York City know about Fred Jacob, the kid who got the Hell’s gate shakes twelve feet inside the tunnel. He passed out, and everybody knew that he was a goner. Finally, some kid, who remains unnamed still today, ran in and dragged poor Fred out of the tunnel. He was as white as a sheet and he was rambling on about some horrible monster that had come out of nowhere and tried to eat him. Fred had done the one thing that you are never, ever supposed to do in that tunnel. He touched the graffiti. I’m not talking about the amateur hour graffiti of people’s gang names. I’m talking about a mesmerizing drawing, with strange other worldly writing written all around the borders. If you touch the drawing, you might as well drop dead right there. Don’t try running. Just start praying that the Hell’s gate shakes kill you before It does. Think of a clown, a demon, and the boogey man combined. Now imagine that it has four long arms, each capable of picking up a kid, and long sharp razor blade teeth. That’s It. I get scared just thinking of It. Apparently, It will drag you back to its nest, deep in the tunnel, and slowly devour you alive. Don’t tell me it’s not real, because I’ve watched kids bravely go into that tunnel, heard their screams, and never seen them again.
    Anyways, today was the day that I did the most stupid thing any thirteen-year-old girl could. It was sunny out when my little brother, Curt, and I left the apartment, heading toward Brooklyn Bridge. You probably guessed it, but we were heading down to Hell’s gate to watch some kid, Lucas James, go in. He had said he would go in as far he could, turn around, and touch the graffiti. Yeah right. No one even knew how deep in the tunnel the graffiti was drawn anyways.
    Curt had dragged me down to the gate, pleading for me to go faster. He had never seen a kid go into the tunnel before, being only six, but now that he was seven years old, I had permitted him to go see, on the promise that our mother did not learn of our whereabouts.
    “Come onnnn!” Curt yelled, tugging at my arm, as I took careful steps down the sloping bank near the river. “If we run, we can get there in like, twelve seconds!”
    “Okay, already…” I sighed, heaving my spelunking bag higher up on my arm. I always brought it with me. I never knew when I might find a good tunnel to explore. It contained everything a girl could want: flashlights, extra batteries, Twinkies, and my pink marking chalk. Curt raced ahead of me, and I jogged slowly after, watching a small group of people on the bank get bigger as I drew nearer.
    I was wrong; it was more like fifty kids standing there near the entrance to the tunnel. There was a nervous, yet excited air about the crowd, and I quickly spotted Lucas James, standing in a crowd of kids my age. He looked to be about thirteen, and had a cool and cocky stance, which I guessed to be a cover for the scared glint in his eyes. I walked over to the group and offered an appropriate, yet harsh, greeting to him “Hey, are you the new kid who’s goin’ in the tunnel?”
    “Yeah, what are you gunna do about it?” He glared at me. The others shifted back, looking down, kicking up dirt with their Chuck Taylors. They had told him about me. I couldn’t help but to start up a fight.
    “ You’re not gonna make it two feet in that tunnel!” I jeered, glaring at him. He didn’t seem to mind this much.
    He poked his finger at me,” Well, you’re to much of a wuss to even go in the tunnel!” He shouted.
    I pushed him back with the palm of my hand, retorting, “I’m not a wuss. I bet I can go all the way to the graffiti, touch it, and come back. I dare yoo-uu to come with me.” One or two people looked at me with shocked expressions on their faces. Lucas looked slightly taken aback. He stood there for a minute, then not wanting to look like a chicken in front of his friends, he replied “Oh yeah? I double-dare you to touch the graffiti, go all the way to It’s lair, and come back alive!”
    “Fine!” I huffed. “I’m ready when you are!” I turned around, looking at the crowd of kids, which had now doubled to about a hundred people. Curt’s face poked through, and he ran around people to get to me.
    “Please, please, please don’t do it!” He cried. I just stared out at the river, contemplating.
    “I have to.” I was remorseful, but to cheer him up I added, “If I don’t come back alive, you can have my room, and all my stuff.” Curt’s eyes widened. He knew I would never say that unless I was dead serious.
    “Okay...” He whispered. I patted him on the shoulder, turning around again to face the tunnel. Lucas came over and stood next to me. I took the first step forward, and some kid yelled, “Don’t do it!”
    I headed into the darkness, aware that Lucas was following right behind me. The voices grew louder, some cheering us on, others shouting warnings. I hung onto the sound as we went deeper, finally flicking my flashlight on. It was seriously dark now. My brain rushed around in my skull, practically screaming at me to turn around now. I kept walking, and finally the sound of people died off. I could have been the only one alive in the world right now, except for the sound of breathing coming from Lucas. I found out he had brought a flashlight too when a second beam of light suddenly came into my view. It was so dark in the tunnel; our light barely even penetrated the darkness. Neither Lucas nor I said a thing. I no longer had a sense of time, so I didn’t know how long we had been walking until Lucas said
    “We can just turn around you know.” The sound was so sudden that I practically jumped out of my shoes. I looked over at his outline.
    “What do you mean?” My voice was hoarse from not talking so long. “We dared each other to touch the graffiti.”
    “I know, we can just tell the others we did, and nothing came after us.” Lucas shined his flashlight on the tunnel walls, searching for the fabled graffiti.
    “I never wuss out of anything,” was my only reply. I was surprised that we hadn’t seen anything strange yet. We had been walking for a long time.
    “ It’s just…” He seemed hesitant. “I’m scared. Of everything. I only did this so my friends wouldn’t think I was a chicken.”
    “I’m scared to, you know.” I stopped walking, and bee-lined to the wall of the tunnel. Lucas followed me. I reached into my bag and pulled out my pink chalk and two Twinkies. I handed him a Twinkie. “Let’s take a break. I’m getting tired.”
    “Sure” He said, sitting down on the tunnel’s floor. I started marking my name in pink chalk on the wall. As soon as I was finished, I slid down to sit next to him.
    “So… where are you from?” I tried to make small talk, and better our situation. I was liking Lucas’s idea more and more.
    “Hoboken, New Jersey.” He handed me the empty Twinkie wrapper, and I passed him another one. I played with the flashlight, shining it on the tunnel’s floor, as Lucas described his favorite sports team, and his school. He asked me a question about my favorite type of music.
    “Oh, yeah. I really like that band. Their music is so-“ I stopped dead in my tracks. I had flicked the light of the flashlight on the tunnel’s wall and saw the most horrible sight. The graffiti.
    “What? Their music is so what?” Lucas stopped when he saw what I was staring at. He stood up, mesmerized by its awesome beauty, reaching out to touch it.
    “STOP!” I yelled, the sound reverberating off the tunnel’s walls. His hands dropped down, and he turned around.
    “Sorry about that… It’s just so cool.” Lucas was right. It was pretty cool. Strange scribbles outlined the image of a god like figure. Waves and curly depictions swirled around the figure, seeming to make up something.
    “If the graffiti is real...” I mumbled out loud, “then It is real too.”
    “We have to touch it… at the same time.” Lucas said. He was right. I had dared us to, and you never go back on a dare.
    “ One… two... three! “ Our hands touched the graffiti at the same time. A cool breeze came down my spine, and I listened closely. There were no sounds coming from anywhere. No horrible screeching, or thumping, and no It.
    We were safe then. We just had to get back out of the tunnel now. But I had a small problem. Lucas’s face was white as a sheet, and his knees had started to knock together. He had the Hell’s gate shakes. That meant I had to drag him out of the tunnel.
    “Hey, It’s okay Luke. There’s nothing to-“ BOOM, THUMP. I screamed as a seven foot long arm whipped around, knocking me off my feet. Lucas stood against the wall of the tunnel, out of It’s way, making me an easy target. The sound of screeching and Luke’s screams filled my ears, not helping the fact I was scared stiff, and disorientated. It came for me, whipping its arms around. I swear on my life that that thing looked just like every scary clown you’ve ever seen, but ten times worse. I had dropped my flashlight near Luke’s feet, and crawled backwards on my elbows, trying to make distance between It and me. That wasn’t helped by the fact that it’s arms really were seven feet long. It grabbed at me, scratching my arms, legs, and face. Finally, It grabbed my bag, ripping and yanking, trying to get the bag out of my iron grip. I let go of the straps, and It’s arms flew backward, the bag tumbling up into the air. It thumped against the walls of the tunnel. Luke, who was about ten feet behind It in the tunnel saw his chance to escape, and started running. Bad idea.
    It heard him coming, and reached out snatched him up like a piece of candy. Luke screamed louder, and I shakily got up, backing away. I wasn’t about to get myself murdered just to save this kid. I watched as It started tearing Luke apart, arms first, then his legs. I was horrified and frozen to the spot, but I soon came to my senses, and ran as fast as I could. I could hear Luke’s screams die out behind me as I gained distance from It. Without a flashlight; it really was cave dark in the tunnel. I ran faster still, hoping not to hear the monstrous screeches of It behind me. But I never slowed my pace until I finally saw the tiniest glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. I had escaped alive.
    “Never again… Never ever.” My heart was pounding. I exited the tunnel, looking around. It was nighttime. We really had been in that tunnel for a long time. Of the crowd of a hundred kids from earlier, only three remained.
    “What happened? Where’s Luke? Did you touch the graffiti?” One kid started bombing me with questions. I walked unsteadily up the riverbank, my eyes wide, my arms shaking. It wasn’t like me to ruin a tunnel for anyone. Those kids would have to find out themselves. I doubt I’ll ever go in a tunnel again, but if I do I’ll need to rest up for it, though I hardly think I’ll ever sleep again after seeing It. Of course, I’ll also need to get some more Twinkies.