Roller Coaster
I have always been captivated by roller coasters. It surprises me that ordinary and average people eagerly trade in the stillness of the ground for a chance to be tossed around in the air like water coming out of a sprinkler. It amazes me that in some point in time, someone thought that people would enjoy this. The force of twisting tracks, loops and turns send chills through my body. It is precisely the thrill and excitement of having survived the fateful ride that My first experience with a roller coaster ride was at Six Flags over Texas, in Arlington, Texas. Staring at that looping, twisting beast, wh
I had survived the death defying plunges to the ground. A ride on a roller coaster never failed to excite me as a child. The first ride on one of these fantastic beasts gave me a rush of adrenaline. After a while, passengers return for more, wanting to experience the thrill of the roller coaster once more. irling the life out of people left me enthralled. Even though I am older, the child like thrills they give me will always keep me coming back for more, and will continue with every ride. Although I am becoming older and have less time, or less inclination, to play, the child like thrill I have on a roller coaster continues with each and every ride. Roller coasters are a somewhat like life, sharp turns, brief moments atop steep hills and the descending plunge toward the ground, only to take the rider back up, and go through it all again, leaving them physically and emotionally drained. Finally, the ride was over, and I knew I was addicted to this racing beast. Ever since that first glance, my imagination has always made me think of roller coasters as beasts, carrying off their screaming passengers. The ride gained momentum, and the resistence to gravity built up against my body until I was not able to move. Then there came the stomach turning weightlessness as the beast descended toward the ground. The screams were loud enough to curl your toes. As the death defying ride started, butterflies fluttered in my stomach, as if they were trying to escape from a small jar.
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Acceptance Essays
