My Dream Experience

Decent Essays

The idea of flying has terrified me since a young age. Being in a metal bird, thousands of feet above the ground, consuming me from one location to the next, doesn’t sound appealing. A pilot, who I could only hope knows exactly what he is doing, has my life in his hands. When I found out I would be taking a helicopter to prom instead of a nice car, I believed I was having a nightmare. The one where I’m falling endlessly, spinning out of control, until I am jolted awake. The thing which is my biggest fear in the entire will be my transportation of choice for one of the most memorable nights of my adolescent years.
I feel like vomiting the morning of what should be one of the most epic rides of my life. Knotted, my stomach twists and turns in ways a stomach never should. The helicopters will be here any moment. Everyone approaches me saying, “Oh, how exciting this is! I wish I had gotten to take a helicopter to my prom.” I can’t help but to consider letting these people, who I hardly know at all, take my seat. I would rather walk to prom, in my five inch heels, than take the chopper. Carson tells me for the millionth time we could take his dinky, 2006 Jeep Liberty instead, but I know how excited he is to fly to his senior prom in a helicopter. So I deny this gesture once again.
Someone shouts from out front that they see the helicopters in the distance, small but approaching fast. As they get closer, I can hear the low grumble of the engines. Close enough now, I can make out

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