A Night at the Fair

by Nate Caldwell, age 15, from US

A fair. The dazzling lights, the deafening music, the
sounds of carefree laughter in the air. The dizzying
heights of the Ferris Wheel, the whirl of the
Gravitron, the thrill of the Sledge Hammer.

The atmosphere was electrifying, filling my friends
with the spirit of intense excitement.
I expected the carnival to be something simple
though, maybe a Carousel and a Ferris Wheel, but that
would be it. However, as I began to see some of the
rides, I felt nothing but dread.

As I saw the sledge hammer turning people upside down
in the air, and upon seeing the Wipeout swish people
every which way, I was flooded with a sense of
trepidation.

With sweaty palms and dread in my fingertips, I
grasped the handle of Paul's brand new green Ford
Cherokee.

It was just three of my friends and I who were going.
We came mostly because we were bored, not because we
wanted to, although I felt we all were secretly
yearning to go, yet we still denied it.

Paul had brought up the subject of going to the fair
while we were hanging out at his house, just watching
some movies and eating popcorn. But it was Dan who
began the conversation.

"It's boring here," he merely stated, reaching for
another handful of popcorn. Dan said the same thing
every Wednesday night and we usually ignored it.
But this time, for some reason, Chris and I gave our
voices of agreement. After all, one can watch "Lethal
Weapon 3" only so many times. Then Paul spoke up.

"Hey," he began, "The fair's in town."