May 11, 4:35 a.m.
It’s here.
Engulfed by a flutter of panic like a first time rider after the roller coaster chugs out of the station, I am gripped with that gut-clenching lurch that happens as the car pulls up that first long rise, and there is no turning back, no escape, only the inevitable and terrifying conclusion. For weeks, I have shoved this moment from my conscious mind, and now it’s here.
Fear flickers through me, an electric crackle, and is gone. I am wiped clean of mortal concerns as the plunge begins, a plummeting kaleidoscope of swiftly changing darkened colors, while a shriek born of wind speed howls outside the windows. Inside the car we float weightless, pain and life suspended like a silent fermata before the final crashing chord.
Simon cowers in the corner, terror sta
