Creative Nonfiction Story: Raw Draft

**I added the prompts into my story after writing it.

Ahh.

We walk off the Luna 360.

My head is spinning.

I look at my cousin, who looks at my brother, who looks at me. And we all laugh.

The world before my eyes is still a little blurry; we’re all still dizzy from the flips and upside down spins of that last ride.

Kane bounces around and does his usual dance of excitement. People turn and stare, their eyes and scorns full of judgement, but my brother and I don’t care. He certainly doesn’t. Almost 21 and he still lives in the moment. We just look at each other and smile.

“The Wonder Wheel is definitely next,” I say.

We all walk over where my mom, dad, and uncle are sitting. I hear sentences cut off as we approach them; something about my aunt and how she just doesn’t understand–

But Kane doesn’t seem to notice.

We tell them where we’re going, and they smile and tell us to have fun. The sun beats on my face, ***promt***

As we approach the massive, colorful, rusty ring, spinning round and round and round, we see the huge the sign in the center: “Wonder Wheel Ω.” Kane giddily takes out his phone to snap a picture for instagram. Not that Coney Island really means anything to us, but to someone from Los Angelos, it’s the greatest thing.

It’s one of those classics.

Everywhere you travel, there are classics.

Paris, the Eiffel Tower. London, the Big Ben.

Those monuments, those buildings, those structures that really don’t mean anything to the average tourist.

Most people know nothing about them.

All they know is that they want a photo with them. Because it’s a classic.

But it’s not like it really means anything. It’s just a scrapbook event. A scrapbook picture. A scrapbook memory. Meaningless.

We’ve lived in New York for ten years and we’ve never actually been on the Wonder Wheel, so as Kane swipes the “Luna Credits” card for the three of us and we step into our own little compartment, even though I don’t want to admit to the tourist attraction, I can’t help but feel excited.

The ride has two rings: one of the outside, going one way, and one on the inside, going another. We’re on the outer ring. As we move up, everybody in the inner ring moves down.

***The world gets further and further away from us; the people get smaller and smaller; the benches and the buildings begin to look like pieces from a toy train set.

Higher and higher.

More shots for instagram.

Roman is quiet. A sort of quiet that I’ve never seen from him before. A peaceful quite–something so extraordinarily rare for 9-year-old.

I turn my head around and suddenly, instead of the amusement park, a vast, naked sea lays before my eyes. How wonderful is that: at the turn of a head, suddenly the urban world becomes the natural world, just like that. We’re so close, yet so far.

Higher. Up and up an up.

Suddenly we’re at the perfect point: the very top, the very center at the very top.

And then the motion slows down, just slightly so that we don’t notice it until we come to a full stop: right at the perfect point: the very top, the very center at the very top.

My brothers face drops, but Kane reassures him that it’ll start moving soon.

I faintly hear their voices talking but my eyes shift downwards as I lean over the edge of the compartment as I process the 150ft between me and the ground.

So much could happen in 150ft. (run with this!! Use the distance as a metaphor)

A few minutes pass. Roman’s body starts to tense up, and he rubs his hands together and covers his face, not wanted to admit his fear.

I’m still captivated by the sea.

What if I jumped.

Would I fall.

Would I fly.

Would a bird pick me up right before I hit the ground and swoosh me up into the air.

Would....(add more!)

I check my phone and realize that it’s been 7 full minutes.

That’s a long time to be stuck.

I look at the other people on the ride. There must be over 40 people, each with their own family in their own compartment.

Each getting nervous.

Suddenly, I hear a scream, and I jolt my head to face the sound. Somebody right bellow us in the inner ring; an old man, all alone.

Everyone turns to stare at him.

His eyes look as if somebody’s in control of him.

He screams again.

“Please sir, remain calm. You’ll all be down very soon.”

I look even further down and see the ride manager speaking through a megaphone.

And all at once, everybody starts talking.

“when are we getting down” “this is ridiculous” “are we stuck” “this is insane” “absurd” “atrocious” “please get me out of here” “right now” “WHEN ARE WE COMING DOWN”

The voices, the fear; it’s as if a bomb has suddenly gone off and everybody and everything just explodes.

I move my head ever so slightly and see the man who’d just screamed with one leg over the edge of his compartment.

“kane,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.

My breathing gets heavier. My heart races. I hope Roman doesn’t notice.

I shut my eyes, and pray to the god that I don’t believe in (write more about god and religion) to please, not let this crazy man jump from 100 feet in the air.

Please.

No one else seems to notice the man but I can’t keep my eyes off him–

The wheel starts to move again, and the man falls back into his compartment, jolted by the sudden movement.

I let out a deep breath.

We go down, just as we came up. Slowly.

The world gets bigger and bigger, closer and closer until we reach the bottom and realize that the world’s still there.

The door opens, and we step off.

(I’m not sure how to end it)
(Word Count - 1025)