LJIdol, Topic 9: "Counterintuitive"
As we approach the vivid purple awning that denotes the walkway's opening, I pull off my glasses and pass them to my best friend's mother. Immediately, my world is plunged into something comprised entirely of chaotic bokeh; shapes and depths lose their meaning and my fumbling forward is defined only by the hazy balls of color that I pass. My best friend and I link arms and charge down the path, rounding the sharp corners until we find the line.
It's a tall man before us, though I only discern his gender when he turns to address us. "You know," He chortles, "They say people have died on this. They just went over the first hill and were never seen again."
He's lying. This knowledge doesn't stop us from giggling nervously in unison. He says more, but my attention is suddenly consumed by an all-too-familiar buzzing in my ear.
Wasp!
I squeak and flinch, ducking behind my friend; there are too many people in front and behind for me to flee. Great! Trapped with one of my mortal foes from Nature, mostly blind, and nervous. Why am I doing this again? The man in front of us laughs and I would scowl, but he's so good-natured about it.
Inch by inch, we shuffle forward as he regales us with more horror stories, this time latching onto my obvious fear of flying, stinging bugs. He tells me of massive hornets in Japan that spray acid into people's eyes and African bees that will chase you for miles. And then, all too casually, "Huh... you know, the one that won't buzz off looks bigger than usual."
I hunker down behind my friend and try to look menacing - apparently the look I manage instead is comical, since our stranger has to fight snickers.
"I bet the wasps ate the bodies. He looks hungry."
By this point, the lines are splitting us into separate queues and he merrily wishes us luck as he steps up to the gleaming rail. We're shuffled to the front queue and cautiously pick our way onto the glistening purple and yellow chariot. "Is it too late to say I changed my mind?" I ask my friend, pulling the lap restraint down and locking it down as tightly as I can manage.
"Probably!" She informs me with glee. She's been trying to get me onto this ride for the past three years.
Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. Our long train of cars is drawn up the hill, climbing further and further above the park. The loudspeakers helpfully inform me that we will be falling well over 200 feet.
By this point, my thoughts are caught in a hurricane of uncertainty and near-panic. I giggle to myself as we ascend even higher. Why am I doing this? We could die. Couldn't we? Surely not. But maybe! I can't do this. I can do this. No, not really. Well, not much choice. The track ahead has a distinctly downward blur. Ohmanohmanohman.
"Put your hands up!" My friend hastily advises, thrusting hers into the air.
"What? Why?"
"Just trust me!"
I put mine up too, wiggling them over my head to a lopsided mental tune no one else is hearing. "Now whAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
My piercing shriek continues for the rest of the ride, almost uninterrupted. I will say this: I have an impressive lungspan when I'm terrified beyond all reason. It loops us around and sends the coaster through dizzying turns and drops. I hardly notice the cameras flash on the final descent, capturing my hair in its wild, fluffy disarray of glory. More priceless than my hair is my look of utter, abject panic.
Slowly, with trembling legs, I creep away from the ride, clinging to my buddy for support. "So, uh..." I lick my lips and swallow hard, feeling how raw the screams left my throat. "... you wanna go again?"
This entry was written as part of the ninth topic of LJ Idol's 8th season, which is "Counterintuitive."
It's a tall man before us, though I only discern his gender when he turns to address us. "You know," He chortles, "They say people have died on this. They just went over the first hill and were never seen again."
He's lying. This knowledge doesn't stop us from giggling nervously in unison. He says more, but my attention is suddenly consumed by an all-too-familiar buzzing in my ear.
Wasp!
I squeak and flinch, ducking behind my friend; there are too many people in front and behind for me to flee. Great! Trapped with one of my mortal foes from Nature, mostly blind, and nervous. Why am I doing this again? The man in front of us laughs and I would scowl, but he's so good-natured about it.
Inch by inch, we shuffle forward as he regales us with more horror stories, this time latching onto my obvious fear of flying, stinging bugs. He tells me of massive hornets in Japan that spray acid into people's eyes and African bees that will chase you for miles. And then, all too casually, "Huh... you know, the one that won't buzz off looks bigger than usual."
I hunker down behind my friend and try to look menacing - apparently the look I manage instead is comical, since our stranger has to fight snickers.
"I bet the wasps ate the bodies. He looks hungry."
By this point, the lines are splitting us into separate queues and he merrily wishes us luck as he steps up to the gleaming rail. We're shuffled to the front queue and cautiously pick our way onto the glistening purple and yellow chariot. "Is it too late to say I changed my mind?" I ask my friend, pulling the lap restraint down and locking it down as tightly as I can manage.
"Probably!" She informs me with glee. She's been trying to get me onto this ride for the past three years.
Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. Our long train of cars is drawn up the hill, climbing further and further above the park. The loudspeakers helpfully inform me that we will be falling well over 200 feet.
By this point, my thoughts are caught in a hurricane of uncertainty and near-panic. I giggle to myself as we ascend even higher. Why am I doing this? We could die. Couldn't we? Surely not. But maybe! I can't do this. I can do this. No, not really. Well, not much choice. The track ahead has a distinctly downward blur. Ohmanohmanohman.
"Put your hands up!" My friend hastily advises, thrusting hers into the air.
"What? Why?"
"Just trust me!"
I put mine up too, wiggling them over my head to a lopsided mental tune no one else is hearing. "Now whAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
My piercing shriek continues for the rest of the ride, almost uninterrupted. I will say this: I have an impressive lungspan when I'm terrified beyond all reason. It loops us around and sends the coaster through dizzying turns and drops. I hardly notice the cameras flash on the final descent, capturing my hair in its wild, fluffy disarray of glory. More priceless than my hair is my look of utter, abject panic.
Slowly, with trembling legs, I creep away from the ride, clinging to my buddy for support. "So, uh..." I lick my lips and swallow hard, feeling how raw the screams left my throat. "... you wanna go again?"
This entry was written as part of the ninth topic of LJ Idol's 8th season, which is "Counterintuitive."