So anyways, I was dragged along to Six Flags with my church yesterday to avoid the gasps and glares and shouts. I have been to Six Flags only about four or five times because I didn't grow up with roller coasters, and I'm still getting used to them. Of coarse, the first ride my friend Grace, from church, and my sister Leah wanted to go on was Superman. If I absolutely had to go on one scary roller coaster it would be this one, because it's supposed to feel like you're flying, so you are on your stomach. It would be kind of cool to feel like you were flying. I waited in line with them, out of a lack of something else to do, with no ambition of even coming close to the seat. As it turns out, Grace gives really good pep talks. In ten minutes, she had convinced me to try it. Grace and Leah assured me that I could close my eyes, have a firm grip on the handle bars, take the middle seat, and be perfectly safe. I doubted the safe part, but figured this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and was prepared to be brave.
I'm apparently not as brave as I so proudly declared. I sat in that cold, plastic seat covered with a thin layer of Styrofoam as a weak attempt at comfort, and no doubt lathered in germs from the millions of people who've sat in, sneezed on, and sweat in that very spot I was sitting in, and I gave the bar a dainty tug. It didn't come down. I almost tried giving the bar another yank, but hesitated and looked around me. I observed as the set of cars ahead of us rotated from their comfortable, vertical, sitting position, to a terrifying, horizontal, parallel to the ground, face forward, preparing-for-certain-doom position. I peered at Leah on my right side with her seat belt and bar snugly suffocating her (yet she was excited for this) and realized that once I pulled that bar down, there was no turning back, and no way to pull it back up again. My stomach churned, my head throbbed, and my heart was beating as fast as a racehorse. Oh-so-helpful Grace, assuming I needed assistance, decided to reach over and tug the bar down for me. My 'fight or flight' instincts took over then; I swatted her hand away and jumped out of the seat into the safety zone of the stairs.
"Sorry!" I called out as their seats began to rotate into that haunting position, "I just can't do it!" But by that time they were already making the agonizing trek towards the peak of the drop, and didn't hear me.
At around 2:00 I discovered that I really couldn't do it. As Grace described it: "I turned around and your face went completely pale!", so I was picked up early with a stomachache, headache, and nausea. It wasn't the start to my summer I'd had in mind, but I have a whole three months to make it better.