Tower+of+Terror

Andreley Bjelland 3/4B 11/19/09     Tower of Terror The doors were closing, the attendant was leaving. This was actually happening. Then, suddenly, everything went black, and there was an eerie silence. Without warning, we suddenly dropped the length of a large hotel. There was no longer silence, only the sound of people’s terrified, piercing screams. “Umm…. Mom?” I asked timidly. “Do I //have// to go on this ride?” “Honey, I thought this was the one you were so excited about. Besides, this is the first ride of the day. If you can’t handle a drop tower, how are you going to manage Space Mountain?” she replied. “You do have a point. Maybe I will go on after all.” Anyways, it’s not like we’re stepping onto the ride //now.// I still have plenty of time to chicken out. Also, this was the ride my whole family had been waiting to go on all day. I didn’t want to ruin it by making one of my parents get off and come wait with me while everyone else was busy having the time of their life. However, it might be better to get off now then to decide I wanted to later, when we were boarding the elevator. Then, it hit me. I may never get this chance again. The ride’s only three minutes long. How bad could it really be? I decided that I would take the chance of being terrified. After all, who knew? Maybe I would actually have fun! As courageous as my decision may have seemed, I began to question the wisdom in it. The butterflies in my stomach seemed to fly faster and faster as we walked through the abandoned hotel. Of course it was only the set of a famous Disney ride, but it certainly had me fooled. As we were herded into a room, and shown a movie from the //Twilight Zone//, which had inspired this ride, I felt even more scared. The last straw for me was seeing the haunting face of the child star that disappeared into that elevator, never to be seen again. I walked as slowly as possible, dragging my feet, the pit of fear in my stomach weighing me down. I twirled my blonde hair around my finger, and twisted my silver earrings, both nervous habits. Around me, people chattered excitedly about their past experiences with drop towers, and how much fun they were. Fun? Yeah, right. Very slowly, the line moved forward, but to me, it seemed to be moving faster than the speed of light. Once we were down to the boiler room, the “attendant” showed me to my place in the old-fashioned, creaky, service elevator. She smiled, rather evilly. “Does anyone want to chicken out?” she asked. I was about to step forward when she smiled again, taunting us. “Because it’s way too late.” And with those parting words, she stepped back and the doors slammed shut. As we rose, an eerie silence descended on us. Nobody wanted to say anything, for fear something might happen. We finally reached the top of the thirteen story “Tower of Terror” and the doors opened, giving us a great aerial view of all the Disney theme parks. As we dropped the thirteen floors, I screamed, first with terror, then delight. As we rose and fell again and again, I realized something. I was actually having fun!