What goes up, must come down.

My hands shook as they held on to the lap bar which was the only thing holding me in my roller coaster seat. As I kept my head positioned stiffly against my headrest, careful not to look from side to side so that I wouldn't realize how high up I was, all I saw before me was a blue sky painted with fluffy clouds, and the people's headrests in front of me. As the roller coaster's chain raised me higher and higher into the summer sky, I panicked, and thought to myself, 'what in the world are you thinking?' Since trying to escape the roller coaster at this point would result in immediate death, I figured that I might as well stay put and wait and see if I would actually survive. I began planning my funeral when my aunt sitting next to me screamed, "Here we goooo!", and away we went. I was conquering my fear. I was on the Raging Bull at Six Flags, and all emotion and feeling had abandoned me at the top of the roller coaster. I didn't scream, all I did was smile. Because that was the absolute best moment of my entire life. Every year that I had come to Six Flags previous to that summer, I had always turned down the Raging Bull. But last summer, I did it. After I sadly got off of it (I was sad because it was over) my Aunt, cousins, and I excitedly ran towards the back of the line so we could brave it again. I lost track of how many times we rode the ride that day, as well as how many times we rode all of the other big roller coasters that day. Raging Bull turned me into a roller coaster fanatic, and if I hadn't rode it that day, I would've have never experienced the best experiece of my life.