The wheels creak. Moans and groans, equally mechanical, squeak out from hidden holes in the landscape. Our vehicle shakes, pivots, and rumbles down the ride platform.
My gun is not functioning correctly. I shake the orange pistol, hoping to rattle some important chip inside so that I can shoot the ghosts that pop out of the darkness, that cackle maniacally. My brother beside me, meanwhile is racking out the points, and the little monitor in front of him glimmers in bright red, laughing at me as the numbers rise. Meanwhile, my monitor flickers in and out, with my meager score of 5 looking more like a sick C.
We move through a ghost town, moving past ancient rotting mansions with flying witches and insipid bothersome goblins. We pass by a glittering lake filled with water creatures, and then we are pitched into darkness, and for a brief moment, everything becomes dark. I feel a tingling down my spine, and suddenly I feel very alone.
A sound rustles to my left. I turn my head, but my brother is not there. The door is swinging open, and his gun is hanging from the cord, dangling. I squint my eyes, trying to see through the evasive darkness, but I cannot find him. No moving shadows, no breath of air. The ride has stopped, and not even the mechanical buzz of the speakers is heard.
I get up out of my seat, and call out for him. I feel the air coming out of my mouth, but no sound is heard. I call out louder this time, but it is as if something muffled the air, taking the sound like a sponge. Suddenly the car shakes, and I freak out, leaping out of the car.
A creak, and then the sound of crashing metal. The car has flipped off the track, and suddenly I feel very cold. The hair on my arms stands up, pricking into my t-shirt. I can hear my heartbeat, although I don't know how fast is it going. I breath in.
The lights flicker on, coming up slowly. The paper ghosts begin to glow again, and I see my brother sitting in the car (which is on the track, upright), giving me a strange look. He looks worried, and holds his gun tenaciously, wondering whether he should put it down and help me back into the car, or ignore me altogether.
From out of the darkness, a man in a Boardwalk uniform approaches, and tells me to please step back into the car. I hear mutterings from the ride-goers behind us, and one man even yells for the ride to start back up.
Frailly, I collect myself and sit down. The flickering numbers in front of me are still broken. With a crunch of machinery, the wheels begin to turn and we move forward, out of the dark cave and into the light of the beach sun.
My gun is not functioning correctly. I shake the orange pistol, hoping to rattle some important chip inside so that I can shoot the ghosts that pop out of the darkness, that cackle maniacally. My brother beside me, meanwhile is racking out the points, and the little monitor in front of him glimmers in bright red, laughing at me as the numbers rise. Meanwhile, my monitor flickers in and out, with my meager score of 5 looking more like a sick C.
We move through a ghost town, moving past ancient rotting mansions with flying witches and insipid bothersome goblins. We pass by a glittering lake filled with water creatures, and then we are pitched into darkness, and for a brief moment, everything becomes dark. I feel a tingling down my spine, and suddenly I feel very alone.
A sound rustles to my left. I turn my head, but my brother is not there. The door is swinging open, and his gun is hanging from the cord, dangling. I squint my eyes, trying to see through the evasive darkness, but I cannot find him. No moving shadows, no breath of air. The ride has stopped, and not even the mechanical buzz of the speakers is heard.
I get up out of my seat, and call out for him. I feel the air coming out of my mouth, but no sound is heard. I call out louder this time, but it is as if something muffled the air, taking the sound like a sponge. Suddenly the car shakes, and I freak out, leaping out of the car.
A creak, and then the sound of crashing metal. The car has flipped off the track, and suddenly I feel very cold. The hair on my arms stands up, pricking into my t-shirt. I can hear my heartbeat, although I don't know how fast is it going. I breath in.
The lights flicker on, coming up slowly. The paper ghosts begin to glow again, and I see my brother sitting in the car (which is on the track, upright), giving me a strange look. He looks worried, and holds his gun tenaciously, wondering whether he should put it down and help me back into the car, or ignore me altogether.
From out of the darkness, a man in a Boardwalk uniform approaches, and tells me to please step back into the car. I hear mutterings from the ride-goers behind us, and one man even yells for the ride to start back up.
Frailly, I collect myself and sit down. The flickering numbers in front of me are still broken. With a crunch of machinery, the wheels begin to turn and we move forward, out of the dark cave and into the light of the beach sun.
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