The Zipper-Personal Narrative

There it was, looking below me, constantly mocking me. I kept glancing back at that

one ride throughout the whole time I was at the carnival. I read the name of it. “The Zipper.” I

whispered to myself with some sort of shakiness in my voice. A gust of wind ran through my back,

goosebumps all over. Everything that surrounded me was just incomprehensible meaningless sounds;

all I could hear was the ugly screech come from the ride followed by a number of ear piercing

irritable sounds. Trembling, I could feel a sudden chill that traveled through my body. “Should I do

it?” was the question that would roam my mind. Still and motionless, I paused for a moment. Bordering the tall ride were the blinding lights

that frequently blinked at me.
It was strange; I was never usually afraid of rides, but I sensed a peculiar sign of a

dreadful discomfort that made my stomach churn whenever I was near The Zipper. Maybe it was the

unstable structure. Maybe it was the horrid screech that was heard from it. Maybe it was just the

name. That was a mystery that I couldn’t unravel which was why I detested it. Perhaps this, however

would quench my thirst. “Besides, what could go wrong?”

At last, I spotted my brother, Aman. Signaling him, he casually walked towards me. “What do you want.” was the first thing he blurted, as if he were in a hurry. Pressing my lips together, I felt the lump that was caught in my throat. My hands were clamped

together in a fist, knuckles white, with sweat that flooded my palms. I had it all contained inside of

me, but finally, I released.

“Wanna go on The Zipper with me?” I asked, faintly and feather like, almost regretful. It was a

shock to me at once when I said it. It struck me suddenly, like a dagger to the heart.

Aman’s expression instantly transformed. It seemed as though he had been shocked as well. “You want to go on the Zipper?” he pointed at me in disbelief