March 11, 2015
The Slide of Doom
It all started one fine summer day. My cousin Nicholas invited my brother and me to spend the weekend at his house. “Tomorrow we are going to go to Six Flags to hang out and enjoy the rides,” my aunt announced while we were clowning around. I was super excited because I had never been to Six Flags and was interested to see what types of rides they had. The next day, my aunt drove my brother, my cousin, and I to the amusement park. We tried out all sorts of rides and loved them all. Then, my cousin said that he wanted to go to the water park. We all agreed and tried out some fun water slides. Soon, my brother said he wanted to try out a series of water slides where people get in a tube and get dropped down to the slide. Before I knew it, I was climbing up the long, wooden, winding stairs to the slide.
We climbed higher and higher; the stairs seemed to go up as high as heaven itself. I am afraid of heights, so soon I bent down and started to clutch the partly blue carpeted stairs. “This wasn’t such a great idea after all,” I thought.
“Ethan, are you ok?” asked my brother eventually.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured him.
“Are you sure, you can go down with Nicky if you can’t handle it,” replied my brother.
I just shook my head. Fight your fears, fight your fears. A man in a black swim suit started to shoot me uneasy glances as I started to moan quietly. Eventually, I reached the top of the tower of stairs. I gripped the railings with my white, shaking knuckles. Soon, my brother and I chose a tube individually. I hesitated for a few seconds. How bad can it be? I stepped inside the tube. I glanced at the woman, a lifeguard, with her tan cap, controlling the ride, waiting to push the button. She just smirked, as if she knew what I was about to go through. Suddenly, the glass door curled shut. It was just me with my arms folded across my chest, waiting. A robotic voice soon announced, “Five, four, three, two, one.” At the last second, I peered at my brother, who had a wild grin plastered across his face. I whimpered, barely audible, like a lost and abandoned puppy. Then, the drop.
The drop, or maybe I should call it an utter fall, was so abrupt, so quick, so painful. The floor was literally removed away from my bare feet, and I plunged into the water slide at something that felt like 1,000 mph. I crashed down with a thud and a grunt. Immediately, I felt uncomfortable and knew something was wrong. I struggled to lift my head, trying to escape this nightmare. Only it was real, very real. As soon as I attempted to lift up my head, it was relentlessly and brutally smashed into the metal slide. Bam, bam, bam, bam, BAM! My head started to throb in pain and agony, so I started to cry out: “Jesus, Jesuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuus!” My head pounded uncontrollably. Over and over. There seemed no end to this freak slide. I started to think in my head, “I’m dead.” My family will mourn. What is left of my dilapidated head and body will be lifted out of the slide. They will close down the park permanently and tear down this foolish ride. Whipping from side to side, I could do nothing. I was helpless, at the mercy of this monster. And then, it finished. I lifted up my abused body out of the slide. Another park lifeguard stood near. “How was it, did you like it?” she questioned.
“Yee-aah” I answered. I stumbled and tripped my way over to my family.
“How was it?” asked my aunt.
“Terrible!” I replied.
She started to crack up and laugh uncontrollably. “My head hurts so much, it kept on getting slammed down,” I said. “Well, you’re supposed to keep your head down and your arms crossed the whole time. That was most likely your problem,” my brother stated. “Oh” was the only thing I could answer. I trudged my way around the park the rest of the time. When I got into my aunt’s car and drove home, I knew. I would remember the Slide of Despair forever.