I survived the Tower

Ever since I was a little kid I’ve been absolutely terrified of heights. Everyone I knew was aware of it, which is why it was particularly hard for my friends to convince me that the Tower of Terror wasn’t that bad. I protested of course, if by protested I mean I fought as hard as I could to just go on a rollercoaster or something more in my comfort zone. Eventually though, my will crumbled and I was getting fast-passes for seven thirty at my soon to be tomb.

My friends were proud of me, but they were mostly excited about Disney’s array of rides. We were on our senior trip from out of state and for my friends, this was their first time in the park. I had only visited once but that was enough to put me in charge, not that I minded. It was my weak will to begging that would be my downfall.

Seven thirty came too soon and we were inside the building, waiting in line. I must admit, it looked just as cool as it did the first time I was here, and the Twilight Zone theme helped calm my nerves, but then we came into proximity with the elevators themselves and I started losing it.

I demanded that I didn’t sit close to the wall and was between two of my friends in the seats. They laughed at my terror but agreed. As we sat an attendant dressed as a bellboy came around and checked all the seatbelts with side glances and stepped off the ride. My heart was racing. He stood there for a moment, smiling evilly as he said, “Hope you get to the right floor.” And the doors slammed together.

I whimpered and sank lower into my seat as we started gaining height. We went through a quick starry track before we started going up much faster this time. My boyfriend held my hand on the left and I dug my nails into the armrest to the right. Here it was. I’m going to die.

I was just about to close my eyes as the wall disappeared and revealed the open night sky. Overlooking the entire park and even neighboring ones, perfectly centering Cinderella’s castle in The Magic Kingdom. I sucked in a breath at its beauty and all fear left me.

Then we fell, and I was reminded of all the reasons I hate heights. As we fell and careened back up, something burst from me in a rush of adrenaline. I was laughing, like a loon. My friends were screaming their heads off, but I was having the time of my life on a ride I thought might end it. On the last drop halfway down, we slowed and started descending very civilized. We gently touched bottom and the doors opened to the same smiling attendant. “Welcome back.”

We were herded into the gift shop where it seemed only two types of people arrived off the ride. Pumped ones with their heart pumping wildly or ones that acquired a new fear of heights. Two of my friends were on the later spectrum, hating me for ‘dragging them onto the ride’. My boyfriend on the other hand, like me was excited and filled with energy. We left the park that night tired and drenched with sweat but with new memories. I was especially happy that now I had a new favorite ride to look forward to next time. Even if no one was brave enough to ride with me.