Dark clouds stripped across the mountainous eastern horizon, echoing the night sky behind it, along with random flickers of white lightning. The lumpy horizon to the West had swallowed the sun whole, and had been set that way for a while, for it was 10:53 P.M., 7 minutes before the week-long carnival would officially close for the night. Only a glimmer of light from each of the remaining three rides touched the land below, and in the line of one of those rides, was a little, seven-years-old boy.

He looked nervous, very nervous! Perhaps he was more scared than nervous, from what I could tell. He held his hands close to his body, fumbling with them while chewing on one of his fingernails. His eyes zigzagged back and forth, glancing at all of the frightening figures decorating the Horror Ride around him.

He was accompanied by his 15-year-old sister and her three friends. It was strange, if I do say so myself, for such a young child to be out this late with a bunch of teenagers, that hardly paid any attention to the cowering little ragdoll. It was as if his sister had already forgotten he was there, when her mother had told her 2 minutes earlier to take him on one more ride for the night, which was probably true.

I could hear everything clearly from my little perch atop the Horror Ride sign; the shaky voice of the little boy, the jabbering mouths of his sister and her friends, the click, click, click of the turnstile every time someone entered the ride; Click, click, click; 244, 245, 246 it read. It was quite annoying. Hearing the nonsense the four, teenager girls blabbing about, hurt my head a bit.

"And then, he was like, 'Seriously, you aren't going to do it? Maybe it is because you are a girl!' and he said it in that cute voice he has," the sister recalled, "and then I was like, 'Oh no you di'in't!' and then I went on the ride with him, and then he- OH! What do you WANT Aiden?!" The little boy, Aiden, apparently, was tugging rather harshly on his sister's purse. Click, click; 247,248

"D-do we have to, um, g-go on this ride?" Aiden insisted shakily, "It- it looks super sc-scary! May- maybe we c-can, um,"

"We are not going on some kiddy ride to end this day!" His sister bellowed

"Yah," Her friend stepped in, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder, "Taylor and me and those two were planning all day to ride the Horror Ride very last, since it would be frighteningly dark, and scarier! And look where we are now? Deep darkness of the night, the Horror Ride, and what luck, thunder clouds, packed with lightning! How lucky can you get?" Taylor's friend leaned in closer to Aiden's face, "And this will not be ruined because some silly little three-year-old is too scared to go on! Am I clear?" Well that was the wrong thing to say to that boy, although it drew a slight smile onto my face. Click, click, click, click; 249, 250, 251, 252.

Aiden looked as if he was about to cry, "I- um,"

"Oh don't cry!" We, are going in weather you like or not, little boy," The devilish girl retreated back to the other two.

Taylor had a quick glimmer of shame, looking sadly at Aiden. She briefly touched a hand to his shoulder. She glanced at her three now chatting friends, and back at her horror- stricken brother. Soon the moment was wiped away as she turned back to her friends.

A brisk honking sound arose, and the first three people that entered soon burst through the exit doors, fright easily seen on their faces. They all hopped out of the silver car and headed toward a second turnstile. Click, click, click; 244, 245, 246. The numbers went up after every click.

"That was, kinda mean Kelsey," I heard Taylor whisper to the friend that terrified Aiden, "You shouldn't treat my little brother like that." Click, click, click; 253, 254, 255.

"What?" Kelsey replied, "and miss this chance to finally go on the Horror Ride?! This carnival only comes once a year, Tay. And every year we miss this! I am not backing out because of some silly little kid doesn't want to go, right girls?" one of them shook her head vigorously, while the other hesitantly nodded, "If you want to be a Lame-o, Scaredy Pants, and take you brother on some Lame-o Kiddy ride, then I might as well not be your truest friend anymore!"

Taylor glanced at her cowering little brother, then back at Kelsey, "Fine! Why should I let a frightened, wimpy little sibling keep me from being with my besties!"

"Good choice Tay, good choice," Kelsey turned to see that their turn had come up. The four friends escaped quickly through the turnstile, click, click, click, click. It registered their numbers: 256, 257, 258, 259. Slowly and hesitantly, the little trying-to-be-brave Aiden walked with them. Suddenly he stopped. He stared terrified at the metal turnstile. He stepped slowly toward it, then back, then slowly toward it, then back again. The call of his name broke him out of his trance. He passed through the turnstile with a rattling click, and the machine registered a number 260, the last person to enter the ride for the night.

I watched as he hopped into a silver, streamlined car beside the quiet one of Taylor's friends. Taylor and her two other friends crammed into the cart in front. Aiden glanced up at the quiet friend, just as she did the same, but glancing down. I thought I saw, from the angle of my perch, a glint of sympathy and sadness radiating from the quiet girl's eyes to the little boy.

Soon the two carts jerked to a start, and they carried the four teens and one 7-year-old into the Horror Ride. I hoped that my ride would get my massage across clearly to this group. They seemed tough, or at least the half of them did. Scaring a group like this, I would have to go extreme, especially hearing one of the girls (I have no idea of her name) mumble, "I bet this will actually be boring," But if I go extreme, I will frighten the little Aiden, and probably the Quiet girl too, and that was a tad bit against the rules... but sometimes you have got to do what you have got to do...

An ear-splitting cry echoed throughout the carnival as a crack of lightning lit the sky. Along with that cry, a smile broke across my face. It was working. I shifted slightly atop the sign, and another scream cracked the air. Few of the remaining people, including Taylor's mother, slowly crept up to the ride, fright clearly sketched into every one of their faces. Taylor's mother was more than frightened, in fact, she was terrified.

Soon, I saw a couple scramble out of the ride with a click, click, of the ending turnstile. It registered the numbers 247, 248. The lady that came was clutching her bleach blond hair, as if she were to tear it out. Following her, her date covered his mouth with both hands. Both of them were screaming. This, I loved to see; Bloodshot eyes, the scent of terror drifting through the air, screams piercing my long pointy ears, It was a beautiful sight! I had not felt this great in years. I knew it would have been a good idea to hold off on the extreme! Oh, I feel so alive, ironically. Hah, ha!

Soon, four more people came hurtling out of the Horror ride. Four more clicks to the turnstile sounded. Four more numbers were registered; 249, 250, 251, 252. They were bathed in fright. I could feel their hearts hammering the inside of their rib cages. Churning, screaming fear shot throughout their bodies.

People around them began to retreat to the exit doors of the carnival. A mound of people pushed and wriggled between each other attempting to exit the park first. Before long, they scrambled across the high school parking lot and into their cars. Tires squealing across the road delighted me, hearing them explode because of such intense friction, even more so.

Hardly a soul remained in the area, nothing except the few strapped to continuously rampaging ride carts, and the lone mother seeming she would snap the Horror Ride fence in half. She kept jerking her body, as if she were fighting the battle between waiting for her children to come out, or come in and retrieve them.

Click, click, click; 253, 254, 255. The mother's hopes rose for a half a second, but soon sunk lower to find the three teenagers coming out were not her own.

Moments later, I saw Taylor finally emerge from my ride, her eyes; an expression of panic. Her long, brown-blond hair wasn't flowing as smoothly as it used to, for it was frizzed up in heart-wrenching horror.

Soon the rest of her friends appeared behind Taylor, and all four teenage girls raced toward the turnstile. The loudest, shrill, ear-splitting, blood-curdling, terrorizing scream escaped the mouths of these four girls, yet the loudest of them all was the throat scratching shriek of Kelsey.

Kelsey tore past her three friends, entering into the lead. The four of them vigorously passed through the turnstile, Taylor trailing to be the last of them. Click, click, click, click; 256, 257, 258, 259.

A toothy grin split my face I half. It worked! Nobody was there to achieve 260 on the turnstile. I let out a high pitched laugh, just as lightning cracked through the sky.