just in case i wanna read it later....

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Falling Through Darkness

 

Disney World. What comes to mind? Rides, family fun, and your favorite Disney characters? Not me. When I think of Disney World, I think of falling hundreds of feet, stopping abruptly, and then shooting up again just as fast—all in pitch darkness. I think of my throat becoming hoarse from screaming, my whole body trembling and my eyes full of tears. I think of the scariest ride that I’ll never forget—the one that will make me quiver at the lurch of elevators for the rest of my days.

In early March of ’07, the orchestra and chorus students at Lafayette High were scheduled to go on a field trip to Orlando, Florida for a competition. All the students that paid to go were expected to arrive at school, fully packed and pre-showered, at six o’clock the evening of the trip. Musicians are notorious for being somewhat unorganized, so our four buses didn’t leave the parking lot until nine that night when we had scheduled to leave at eight or so. For the next twelve hours, we were expected to stay on the buses and find some way to sleep. Unfortunately, I was stuck on the bus with the notoriously obnoxious students of our class, sitting in the back seats with a crate full of Vault sodas, keeping them fully awake until six the next morning. Once they had finally conked out, I realized that silence had never sounded so beautiful.

Except for the few bathroom stops, the buses kept going until ten-thirty in the morning. We stopped, ate breakfast, and then hopped back on. We finally arrived at Disney World around two in the afternoon. Of course, all of us were eager to get out and about. My group consisted of my two friends, Faith and Sam. The three of us were clad in black in the hot Florida sun as we romped around Epcot, touring each food establishment and sampling their delicacies. We got as far as Japan in the World Showcase, when my two buddies decided they ought to take me on my first rollercoaster.

It was about an hour until we were supposed to meet back with our school, so we hurried to MGM Studios. The sun had set while we were on the bus ride to the park, but we didn’t notice as we were nursing our tired feet. As soon as we stepped off, we rushed into the park and jetted past every amusement until we got to the Rockin’ Roller Coaster. Unfortunately, it was closed.

“Great, what now?” I said. I’m the adventurous type that loves to try new things, so was somewhat looking forward to riding my first roller coaster.

“Why don’t we try the Tower of Terror?” Faith suggested.

I nodded eagerly. “Which way?”

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes,” Sam said, checking her watch.

It was obvious where the Tower of Terror was, since it could be seen looming over the entire park like a big black shadow. I stared at it, unable to take my eyes off it in its immensity. It looked like the pinnacle of spookiness in the dim twilight. I was aware that it was a recent construction, but it looked as if it had once been a beautiful building and was now old and decrepit. A smear of gray stained the front, right behind a huge flickering sign that spelled out: “The HOLLYWOOD TOWER Hotel.”

Little did I know, it would be the most terrifying experience I’ll ever have.

We finally arrived at the Tower, walking through its abandoned and thoroughly creepy courtyard. We stepped briskly through the lobby, directed to a little secluded room by a young bell boy in a red uniform with gold epaulets. There was a handful of people in the room, and we all stood around, seeing no exit to stand by incase a monster appears and turns out to be real. The bell boy followed us into the room and closed the door behind him, his defined cheek bones suddenly looking ghostly gaunt.

“I like your hat,” said Faith, slicing through the tension in the room.

The walls were covered with bookshelves and painted a drab maroon, as well as the carpet. In the corner was a television, which my party stood the closest to. As the lights dimmed, the TV suddenly switched on, startling us with a loud crackling noise. The Twilight Zone theme began to play, and the voice of Rod Sterling began to explain, in detail, the supernatural events that themed the upcoming ride.

Finally, when the program was over, the bell boy showed us into another room that actually turned out to be what looked like a long corridor, made to resemble a boiler room. Rusty pipes, caked in dust and cobwebs, ran all along the ceiling between old flickering lights. The procession of people that lead to the ride’s entrance was too far for me to see behind all the noisy machinery.

When we joined the line, Faith gave us detailed what she would do in an encounter with a ghost.

“Who are you? What are you gonna do, little girl? Possess me? Go ahead, I don’t care. You don’t scare me,” she said, her bright red head of hair swaying back and forth tauntingly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I checked the time nervously, wondering how long the ride was going to take.

The line continued to move until we were finally at the end of it, standing before crusty elevator doors and a girl dressed in a bell boy uniform. She called for a party of four, and Faith spoke up with our party of three. Everyone else was a party of five or two, so she let us on. We stepped inside, walking to the row of empty seats. The place looked like a very small movie theater, with about six rows of four seats each. The only thing different between a cinema seat and these seats, were that these were made of metal and had seatbelts. I sat between Faith and nobody, and strapped myself down with flimsy yellow buckles. With dismay, I noticed two yellow handles on either side of my seat. ‘What are these for? Will I need them?’ I wondered.

The bell girl turned around and grinned at us in such a way that you just knew she was having too much fun being evil.

“Enjoy your stay,” she said darkly, and let out a resounding evil laugh as she clamped the doors shut.

I rolled my eyes, burying my fear and piling boredom on top. But in spite of my faked lack of amusement, I was more curious than anything. I didn’t know what to expect. Of course, if I did, I wouldn’t have gone near this ride.

I sat still with my hands folded in my lap and all my bought souvenirs under my chair. The lights began to dim and I felt the whole car begin to shift upwards at a cruising pace. I was thinking contentedly, ‘This might be pretty fun.’

After a bit of cruising, Rod Sterling’s voice rang out, sounding crisp and clear in the closed-up little elevator car.

“You are the passengers on a most uncommon elevator about to ascend directly into your very own episode of The Twilight Zone.” His words were merely another attempt to spook us out. It didn’t faze me one bit.

Finally, the car smoothly came to a stop and the doors opened, revealing a corridor of the hotel. Across from us was a much smaller elevator, in which five people stood: A bellboy, a stout woman, a mother, a father, and a little girl.

As this all happened, Rod’s ominous voice filled the elevator car once more: “One stormy night long ago, five people stepped through the door of an elevator and into a nightmare.”

Thunder rolled and lightning cracked, sending a blazing blue bolt right into the elevator across from us. It seemed to shoot epileptic spasms throughout their five bodies, causing them to give off an azure glow. After the people faded out, Rod’s voice faded back in.

He continued, "That door is opening once again, but this time... It's opening for you.”

Lightning flashed noisily once more, killing the lights. We were left in complete darkness. It felt as if the light had taken all sounds with it as well, for I could hear my own heart beat within my feeble chest.

And then—BOOM!

I was suddenly shooting down towards the earth at a thousand miles per hour. I didn’t even realize my shaking, clammy fingers had clasped onto both seat handles, holding on for dear life. All that I was aware of was the unbearable dropping feeling. I couldn’t tell whether I was screaming for the pain of having all my organs pushed towards my skull, or out of fear that the seatbelt would rip and I would go soaring to the ceiling of the subway car, where my neck should snap with a resounding crunch.

Suddenly, it stopped for just the briefest second—just long enough to take in another breath for more screaming. This time, my body was crushed against the seat. I continued to scream bloody murder, struggling to keep my spine straight against the upward force that kept pushing me down. When it began flying down once more, there was barely a stop long enough to breathe. Then it crashed abruptly, giving me false hopes before it mercilessly threw me down again. Again it shot up, only to drop down again into the depths of my very own Hell.

The vicious cycle of up and down continued for what felt like an eternity. My hands were drenched in cold sweat. My limbs shook uncontrollably. Salty tears brimmed from the edges of my eyes. My throat was reduced to sand paper. And yet, the dropping continued, against all my cowardly pleas to be let off.

Then, as unexpectedly as it all began, the ride was over. I almost hadn’t noticed, for the fear was still flooding through my body. I thought this was just a cruelly long pause before the worst drop of all. But when the light from the outside world washed over me, I realized it was truly over.

The only thought running through my head was, ‘I gotta get out of here!’ I’m sure if unbuckling seatbelts were an Olympic sport, then I would have received a gold medal. My mind was a blur as I bent down to retrieve my bag of souvenirs, which had slid out from under my chair and into the center aisle. I dashed off that elevator car, ignoring whatever snide remark the bell boy on the outside had for me. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the corner and wait until my trembling stopped.

“That was disappointing,” said Sam, Faith following as they stepped out.

“That was AWESOME!” Faith said enthusiastically. She turned to me. “So, what’d you think?”

I turned to stare at her, my eyes wide as saucers and hands quivering wildly.

“I’m never going on another elevator. Ever again,” I said.

While I wrote this, the hairs on my arms have stood up completely. You can call me a coward. You can call me a baby. You can call me anything you want, but you can’t make me go on another ride like this one. It has become the longest two and a half minutes of my entire life. The experience still haunts me. I will never forget the horror of being dragged down thirteen stories at incredible speeds, all in complete pitch darkness. Such a terrifying experience is so appropriately named, “The Tower of Terror.”

I signed up to take these online courses for the summer so I can graduate early. Since I'm taking an advanced math class (meaning, last year, I took adv. geometry, which usually high schoolers don't take until 10th grade) and I'm getting PE done during the summer (eww... I haven't taken it yet, not until Jul 9 --but i get to take it with Sara M. so that's a plus) then the only credit I'll need to get in my senior year will be English, so if I get that done and over with I can skip my senior year altogether. I still get the benefits of prom and... whatever. But can you imagine?

Me + Prom = HA HA HA HA HA... funny.

Sorry, but you will never ever EVER catch me there.

Maybe in a car in the parking lot (winkwink) but not actually in the building... dancing.

Anyway, I'm getting horribly off subject.

So! I'm taking some online English courses and they made me write a monologue and after 4 days of writer's block, I finally came up with something that was inspired by Borat and Chris Crocker's character from the freshman group novel:

Our Friend Yani

(The stage is empty. A man walks out, stumbling over his large feet. He stands center stage, holding a fairly small cardboard box. He is wearing a mustard-yellow three-piece suit with an obnoxiously colorful tie. He also has a big curly moustache. He stands with toes pointing outward, and grins hugely at the audience.)

(For a moment, he looks confused, as if trying to remember something. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small white card, which he begins to read from.)

Yani: Gewd mornink to you, Meester or Meeses. My name is say your name here—Oh! Oops, I mean—Yani von Schplatzistav—heheh, that is me, you know?—and today I am vanting to sell a veddy tasty sweet cake from my home country. (Squints at card for a moment. Gives up. Tosses it over shoulder.) It is a veddy good, you know? My waif bake eet from much scratch. (laughs.) I am not a much of a baker, but I see that she is usink goat’s milk und potatoes und a veddy, veddy sec-er-et ingredient that I cannot possibly give to you, because that vould ruin the surprise, yah? Yah. It is my favorite of all foods, and veddy veddy full of vitamins to make you strong! (puffs out chest) Like the lumberjacks. To chop down trees and look a veddy veddy manly in the red plaid shirts. You can be the brawny man from my waif’s paper towels. Yis. Anvay, these are a veddy veddy good for you to eat—Every mornink! (cheers) Yaaaah! Yah. Veddy veddy good. But sometimes I vonder why no one else finds them as delicious as I do. Yani go from door to door and read from de card and tell of sec-er-et ingredient and say that it is veddyveddy good and make you strong… but nobody believe Yani. They vill say to Yani: (suddenly adopts Southern accent) “Learn to talk English!” (goes back to “normal”) and then they slam the door in face. Sometimes they don’t even say, they just go right to slam door in face. (He sighs and puts the box on the ground.) I do not know what to do! If Yani cannot sell this food then Yani cannot make a money. Und little Schvetzel and Bexi will have to eat this instead. Und my waif, when I come home, she vill say, “Yani! Do not come home unless you make us a money!” Und yet I always do, I cannot help it. Because waif always takes me back, yah? But tonight, she did not. She say to Yani: “Yani! How do you expect us to stay in the America if we do not have a money? America is money!” Und I could not argue with my waif, so I go back out of house and keep trying. Or… maybe because waif threaten Yani with frying pan. Waif is very strong, yah? (sighs) It is late, und Yani is tired. But I do not want to go back, for it will upset her. What kind of man will I be then? A man who cannot sell cakes, cannot support his family, and, worst of all, cannot make my waif a happy woman. Maybe… (looks at box again) box will velcome Yani? (He opens the box and takes out boxes labeled “CAKES” before climbing inside.It is a tight fit, and he needs to hug his legs in order to fit. He protrudes ridiculously from the box.) Ah, this is not bad! It is good—not veddy good—but good, yah? Now, Yani sleep. I dream of happy waif and fat children and no cakes… Good night, people!

(The lights fade out and the curtain is drawn as he goes to sleep—head lolled to the side, eyes closed, mouth open and snoring.)

CAPITALISM

Mike: *wakes up to the sound of buzzer alarm* *yawns, gets up* *puts on some Abercrombie Jeans and a Beatles T-shirt* *goes downstairs*
Mom: Morning, sweetie! I made you some (cue drumroll) OATMEAL! Made by Quaker's.
Mike: (sarcasm) Oh, goodie. You know, I think I'll just have some Cheerios.
Mom: Okay, but you'll be hungry an hour before lunch.
Mike: Whatever. *eats some cereal*
Mom: I'll pack some lunch for you. I made you a sandwich made of JIF peanut butter and Smucker's jelly between two slices of Wonderbread bread!
Mike: Uhh, okay. Thanks.
Mom: And a Golden Delicious apple! Mm-mmm.
Mike: Great.
Mom: With a diet Pepsi cola.
Mike: *puts empty cereal bowl in sink* Well, I think I should go to school now.
Mom: Brush your teeth first. I bought some Colgate tooth paste for you. Advanced freshness!
Mike: Uh-huh. *backs away slowly* You know, I'll just brush at school, okay mom?
Mom: All right. Have fun at school!

COMMUNISM

Mike: *wakes up to the sound of bell resounding through neighborhood* *yawns, gets up* *puts on gray pants and tunic provided by government* *goes downstairs*
Mom: Morning, sweetie! I made you some (cue drumroll) OATMEAL! Made by the government.
Mike: (sarcasm) Oh, goodie. You know, I think I'll just have some Government-O's.
Mom: Okay, but you'll be hungry an hour before lunch.
Mike: Whatever. *eats some cereal*
Mom: I'll pack some lunch for you. I made you a sandwich made of GOV peanut butter and Government's jelly between two slices of Governmentbread bread.
Mike: Uhh, okay. Thanks.
Mom: And a Government Delicious apple! Mm-mmm.
Mike: Great.
Mom: With a diet Government cola.
Mike: *puts empty cereal bowl in sink* Well, I think I should go to school now.
Mom: Brush your teeth first. I bought some Government tooth paste for you. It's... pretty much the same tooth paste we've always had.
Mike: Uh-huh. You know, I'll just brush at school, okay mom?
Mom: All right. Have fun at school!

I was reading over some old entries and I found one on Nov. 16 entitled "Tragic Affair (cont.)" which is a continuation of the humorous previous entry entitled "Come one, Come All, To this tragic affair". And I made a very shocking discovery.

Okay, maybe it's not shocking. I just think it's a little weird.

Remember "Through It All"? Well, apparently, Jordyn and I settled on making Harry Campbell's birthday on August 18.

Which, incase you've forgotten, is Cody's birthday.

*cue Twilight Zone theme*

Okay, so, yeah, people are born every day, and Harry wasn't one of them considering she's a made up character, but isn't it a little spooky that we would make her birthday the same as the love of my life's? And with no knowledge that it was?

Woooo.

My dad ordered the music book for me. : )

We were supposed to have a snow day last Friday, but it was too late to call of school when the snow started falling hard and fast. Every school was a-buzz with different variations of how to say, "DAMN YOU STU SILVERMAN!" But today he called off school and made up for himself. Smart man, Mr. Silverman.

My mom's plans for today are to get some errands done and have lunch at the Mongolian Barbecue. Their cuisine is mui delicioso. We have to return some library books, I've got fees to pay off, and we're heading to Barnes and Noble to buy The Anthem. Or something. Whatever it's called, all I know is Andromeda's Tyr Anasazi was the author's fanboy.

Greenville schools had a two-hour delay. I was gonna call Cody but I had no idea when he'd be at school. Or when he was sleeping. I could have just woken him up but... meh.

I finished reading Sweetblood. It's a fairly good book. But the words in red on the cover reading "A Vampire Novel" are pretty much decieving you. There aren't any vampries in it. The heroine Lucy is just a vampire obsessor. And she's got diabetes, so that was an interesting and exciting concept.

Oh well, time for errands. Woo.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! SONG BOOK!!!!!!!!!! NEED SONG BOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I put it on my wish list. : )

    Supreme Court Justices should not have life tenure. Lifespans were much shorter when the Constitution was written, so the framers probably didn't intend for a Justice to be over sixty years old. Mental faculties may diminish as the Supreme Court Justices age. The views of presidents who appoint the Justices will be exercised long after they have left office. This can be achieved easily without reducing judicial independence.

    When the Constitution was framed, it was unusual for men to live to see their seventieth or eightieth year. During those times, Supreme Court Justices had to travel to parts of the country as far away as Georgia or Vermont to hear cases. Only the most able-bodied men could endure the difficult traveling conditions past their sixtieth year. Since the lifespans were much lower then, the concept of a Justice serving into his eighties probably didn't occur to the Framers.

    It's likely that when Justices age, their mental faculties dwindle. If they do not have the strength, it may be difficult for them to uphold their duties as Supreme Court Justices. It should be ensured that Justices retire at a certain age.

    When a president appoints a Supreme Court Justice, their opinions will be withheld long after they leave office. One individual shouldn't continue to exercise such significant power for such a long period of time. They might not be willing to make decisions that satisfy the modern ideas of society. Justices should be recquired to step aside and let others with new ideas take over.

    In conclusion, Supreme Court Justices should no longer serve for life. The Framers of the Constitution did not intend for them to be around this long. Should they no longer be up to the job, they should be recquired to retire. New ideas should be welcomed to the Supreme Court, not the older ones appointed by presidents long gone. This would not diminish judicial independence, and it would prevent Presidents from appointing young Justices who are expected to serve for exceedingly long terms.

Last night Cody and I were listening to "Cemetery Drive" and crying our eyes out.

Well I miss you, I miss you
So far
And the collision of your kiss that made it so hard

Scarred
by Cody Beam

Why is life so hard
It always leaves me scarred

Why can’t we be together
When all I want is you
Why can’t we live forever
There is nothing else to do

Your beauty is the world to me
I try so hard to make you see
You may be the only thing that makes me tear
I’ll have you know I have no fear

When your heart is so close to mine
It’s very hard to define
I miss your touch, smile so wide
There is nothing for you to hide

Everything about you makes me grin
With you I will always win
You make the light prevail through me
I know we truly were meant to be

I love your eyes something I miss
I hated the thought of that last kiss
Natalie you will always be the one for me
One day you and me will be free

I may have a few scars
But my heart lies in the stars