The line is long, that gives me some relief. It will take longer to face the inevitable. I look ahead and see the brave in the front, excited to see everything coming, experience it fully. I observe those standing in line towards the front, trying to figure out which ones are the hands in the air type, which ones are the eyes clenched shut, as if not seeing it will make it less scary.
Eyes definitely closed for me. Hands gripping the bar, holding on for dear life.
I realize that there is no one in front of me. My legs suddenly jerk, acting on their own accord. I want to turn around, run, find the chicken exit. I'm not scared of being a chicken, I'm scared of being the unlucky one that gets stuck upside down, blood rushing to their head, feeling as if they are going to explode . . . or worse. I look up at the peak, estimate how far the drop is and how bad it would hurt once I land.
I wonder what my life would look like flashing before my eyes? I wonder if the impact will kill me instantly or if I would just break all the bones and if the I could experience pain so instense, my body would go numb to protect me.
I only have 2 seconds to ponder this massive, possibly life altering question before I am shoved into a cramped seat with a frayed seat belt snapped around my body and a thin metal bar standing between me and mortality. I chose the middle.
Don't analyze that. It's safer here, cushioned. If it crashes, statistics show it's always the ones on the ends who go first. Suckers and their insane need for adrenaline rushes.
I assume my position, eyes tightly closed, hands on the bar, white knuckles. I have a moment of wanting to grab the girl checking my seat belt by the neck, begging her to let me out. Before I can succumb to my desire for solid, unmoving ground, I feel myself jerk forward.
Shit!
We are going up . . . .
How crazy am I that this is the scariest part for me? The uncertainty . . . what is going to happen once we are on top? How bad will the fall be? Will it hurt? Will I be left breathless? Will I laugh or cry . . . or vomit?
It takes forever to reach the top, the slow ascent a horrible tease.
Just get me up there....now!!!!!! My heart is hurting, my stomach is in knots. Why the hell am I here?
Suddenly, I feel nothing. I'm free falling. I see the trees rushing past me but can't comprehend I'm falling. Suddenly, I realize, I like how it feels . . . . the nothingness and everything'ness at the same time. I realize I have opened my eyes and let go of the bar. My hands are in the air. I am envious of those in the front who were less afraid, more willing to look forward to what was coming instead of wanting to hide in the middle.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhoowaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa . . . YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't even realize I'm screaming until I feel myself jerk forward and slow down. It's over. Two minutes of pure adrenaline.
Why was I so scared?
I slowly lift the bar up that was my security only seconds earlier, unbuckle myself with trembling hands, smooth my hair and stand up. My legs are weak, my heart is racing . . . .
I feel so alive.
I look around and see a woman who has the same "death would be better than this" look on her face I had only moments earlier. I catch her eye . . . .
Sit in the front. I promise, this is a ride you don't want to miss.
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