Wednesday, October 30, 2013, read the whiteboard outside the barred window. Why barred? Because I’m in a jail cell, and frankly when you’re in jail, they don’t trust you a whole lot. It’s five days after, five days of living in this awful place, five days of trying to make sense of what happened.

Friday, October 25, 2013, read the sign as we walked through the familiar gates. I handed the woman my ticket that was bought earlier this week. We walked down the ramp and although I had been there countless times before, this time seemed different. It seemed spookier, gloomier, like evil was looming in the air surrounding us. It was different; tonight was Fright Night, the ever famous Kennywood Phantom Fright Night, and I was terrified.
Stella had convinced me to come and I was sure regretting it now. As we walked out from under the tunnel, smoke lifted from the ground, and I had a feeling that we were being watched. It was dark out and green lights were set up to give the amusement park a spooky atmosphere. I was now surrounded by hundreds of actors, all dressed as goblins, ghosts, zombies, vampires, and other horrendous creatures, I could have never imagined myself. Each haunted being was different except for the white gloves they all wore over their wretched hands that were reaching out to grab me. Step by step they got closer to us, and all I could think was what Stella had told me thousands of times before, “They won’t touch you if you don’t touch them.” At that moment I didn’t believe her at all, but sure enough when they all got about an inch away from us, so close I could feel their breath on my face, all of them turned around and simply walked away. Even though I knew the creatures weren’t real, that they were all just humans in costumes, I was still terrified.
After my first bloodcurdling experience at Fright Night, it was off to the rides. We headed to the Jack Rabbit, the Racers, and the Aero 360. Although I had never been afraid of them before, something about this night made me hate them, yearning to get off the second I sat down. After these three rides and many requests on my part, Stella agreed to take a break. We headed over to some picnic tables by Potato Patch Fries and each ordered a serving. Something about that cool October night made them taste extra delicious. Those greasy fries were perfect. The crisp, salty outside matched perfectly with the warm, moist inside and the smooth cheese made the package complete.
Something about the fries made me particularly daring and brave. It was then I that convinced Stella to attempt the ultimate test, ride the Phantom’s Revenge. People say unless you’ve ridden it then you haven’t experienced Fright Night to its fullest. I decided that if I was here, if I was going to tell everyone what I conquered, I had to conquer it all. I had to pass the ultimate test. I, Lucy Stevenson was going to ride the Phantom on Fright Night, October 25, 2013, and Stella Claine was coming with me.
The line, although only thirty minutes, seemed like three hundred. As we waited, I tried to act brave, but the truth is I was getting more and more nervous each time we moved closer. Step by step we kept moving to the front of the line, and step by step I could feel the butterflies in my stomach getting worse and worse. We finally made it to the front of the line. We took our seat in the third car from the back. I fastened my seatbelt and lowered the bar into my lap, checking about fifty times to ensure it was secure.
The car started moving and jerked me back as we headed up the first hill. “Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack,” became a constant rhythm in my head. It was all I heard. I closed my eyes but could feel myself rising higher and higher with each “clack!” We now reached the point at the top of the coaster where you stop for the split second that feels like hours just before plummeting to your death. The moment is created on purpose as if to say, “No backing out now!” I could almost feel it laughing in my face, but then…The car tilted forward and we were off. I thought we had died when the coaster hit the bottom of the first curving hill, but it started up again. Everything was happening so fast, we were already on our way back down. Just before passing under the Thunderbolt, I heard Stella cry out. I couldn’t make out everything she was saying, she sounded distraught, scared, I had never seen her like this before. “Help! No! Stop it! Why are you doing this? What’s your problem? Oh my gosh! Stop!” A second before we passed under the Thunderbolt I heard her scream, a scream, a yell, a shouting so terrifying I didn’t know what to do. But, it was growing quieter, as if fading into the distance, then silence. She was gone.
October 30, 2013, read the guard’s watch as he passed by my cell. I had now spent five torturous days locked up in this repugnant place. For what, being innocent? I had done nothing wrong yet the people here seem to think I have. They haven’t questioned me or really said anything at all until now. Six tall men now entered the room all wearing the uniform I had seen many guards wearing in the days prior. Black trousers were hugged tight to their waist lines with a silver belt buckle catching the light in the room. White collared shirts buttoned to the top, almost choking the men. A badge pinned on each man’s right shirt pocket read, Highland County Jail Security Officer. Around their belts, each man carried a flashlight strapped to their left hip, pepper spray clipped near the buckle, and a pair of gray handcuffs that reflected the light into my eyes. Sturdy, black boots laced tightly up their calves. White silk gloves covered the guards’ hands. I had never seen the guards wearing them before, but the gloves looked so painfully familiar. Where had I seen them before? It was going to drive me crazy. I had been thoroughly question and accused of killing my friend by the time it hit me. I knew where I had seen the gloves before.
Friday, October 25, 2013. I knew who killed Stella.
The six men moved in closer just like the zombies, vampires, and ghosts did that night. Only this time, they did not stop, they did not turn around, they did not leave. I screamed, but it was too late.