El Nino
As we stood next to El Nino, a terrifying, quite gigantic, carnival ride, rain began to drizzle down upon its metal claws. It smelled of old mechanic’s grease and damp dust. My hands trembled as I stared at it, my gut twisted into knots with its every turn. It spun, flipped, and contorted itself in the air. My friends seem fascinated, but I didn’t want anything to do with the monster. I was pulled onto the ride’s platform by my fellow companions, whose hands felt hot with excitement against my clammy skin. As we were strapped into the wet seats, I realized there was no going back. I longed for a safety video to answer the dozens of questions racing through my mind, as I waited for the ride to commence.
Without warning, my feet abruptly left the ground before my lips could form any words. My anxiety grew as the ride paused suddenly in the sky and lurched into a violent spin. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t smile, pure horror struck my face, and all I could hear were the terrified screams of those around me. I was thrown from side to side, suspended upside down, and left clinging for dear life. As abruptly as it had started, El Nino stood still. As my dizzied brains cleared, I knew I would never get on this monster again. My friends appeared thrilled with the experience, but I was shaken to my core.
