“Please keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times…..” These are the words that I’ve heard so many times before, except this time those words would be plunging me at sixty miles per hour through a pitch black carpal tunnel. Instead of the sweet sounds of my friend’s laughter, all I will be able to hear are glass-shattering screams and the ear-popping music of Aerosmith. This is it, the moment of truth.

They say Disney World is the happiest place on earth, but as I sit back on the black leather seats of the teal limo-themed coaster, I don’t think happy would be the right word to describe how I am feeling. Excited maybe, but definitely not happy. My hearts seems to be beseeching for some sort of companionship. Mitchie. My heart croaks her name. So many times she stepped fearfully in and out of our FastPass line, indecisiveness in her expressions and gestures. I can just see the fear in her chocolate brown eyes, a hundred times worse than mine. She was never one to like the thrill and ecstasy that roller coasters give most people, and as of now I’m starting to question my own love of these rides.
Sweat drips down my face, and my once wavy, flowing hair is now straight and plastered to my face, as the workers come by to check my belt. Butterflies suddenly emerge out of the cocoons of my stomach as if to say, “getting nervous yet?” They taunt me and taunt me, so I hug my stomach hoping to feel some relief. The butterflies suffocate and drop to the bottom of my stomach where they rest in peace. My hands grip the bar in front of me so tightly I am beginning to think they are going to fall off.
I look to the right of me hoping to see a smiling face of sympathy, but instead I come face to belly with a heavy set man about six feet tall. His dirty, brunette hair sticks straight up as if it has been wind blown; this obviously isn’t his first time on the ride. A five o’ clock shadow is starting to appear right bellow his lower lip. He leans forward over his bar in excitement, while I slowly sink back in my seat as if to melt down in it and never be seen again.
Despite the lively atmosphere in the room, I feel like puking. My head is spinning and the world seems to be upside down, and the ride isn’t even moving yet! I grab my head holding it in place but realizing how foolish I must look, my fingers slowly linger back down to the handle bar. But my fingers don’t keep still there. They do a silent jig up and down the black bar as I quietly whisper to them, “No more caffeine for you”. I try to remember the last time I have been this anxious. I chase the thoughts in my head around in circles but they are too quick for me. I cannot grasp a single reflection due to the headache that comes from the parade my thoughts are causing all through my brain. My heart goes pitter-patter with every second the clock ticks away. I rub my eyes until they are fiery red, the way I always do when my nerves get to me.
Ten. I catch the band Aerosmith holding up ten fingers out of the corner of my eye. They are dressed like Rock Stars as usual with their retro leather jackets and funky 80’s glasses. Each of them have long straight hair, which I am assuming was the style back then, that almost look like wigs found at Wal-Mart during the Halloween season. Nine. My fingers are at it again, except this time they go for my hair, stroking it down and pulling it in all different directions. The first thing I’m going to need when I get off this ride is a hair brush for sure. Eight. Gulp. I send a fair amount of saliva to the back of my throat. My mouth feels like cotton, dry and tasteless. I really could use some water. Seven. Is it too late to get off yet? I’m sure Mitchie and her parents are still in the foyer somewhere. Six. I take a last glimpse at Mr. Chubby next to me. His eyes are filled with adrenaline. His grin is from ear to ear. I can tell he is just dying for the band to hold up that one. Five. By now I am sitting in my own pile of sweat, I smell and look disgusting. Normally this would bother me, but my concern is toward nothing but the obscurity that lies ahead. Four. The butterflies resurrect, and they are going wild. They move at a rapid pace all through my stomach. There is no stopping them now.

Three…..Two…..One. I jerk my head left only to witness the faces of Aerosmith on the plasma next to me waving sayonara. “Don’t leave me!” I silently beg. They refuse to listen; all they do is smile and wave not realizing the pure agony my body is now undergoing. I close my eyes and await my fate as I hear the final words, “…..and enjoy your ride on Rock N’ Rollercoaster!”