#1 Most Scariest Rollercoaster
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDJRGR5hR3aC2dqx3CZSdYIvVBrSUKCT77bVtM9fszy6avggiREhCjCmKSgmLjDnpg13D-jQPWjFb-iMDJ700153gWdmKsUTZ5ip-zfLjVjmI_crXv2rDIiU9PdtuiZq7nhwJpgjIQmo/s320/Untitled+design+%252820%2529.png)
As a child, I loved rollercoaster rides. It was the highlight of any vacation with my dad or whomever I went it. They were huge, scary, and got my adrenaline rushing every time. I enjoyed the thrill so much I wanted to take a spin repeatedly. It did not matter if these things had me hanging upside down, entering a dragon’s mouth, taking me underwater, or looped me faster than I can think. I wanted it. Boy, was it fun! Of course, I wouldn’t dare do it alone; I needed company to experience them with me. I wanted them to feel everything I felt; there was no way I needed to be there alone. The scariest ride was not one I experienced on vacation; I was in my hometown. I stood there pondering the outcome if I went there. The longer I thought about it, the deeper I traveled into my thoughts. I no longer had control, I lost myself in it, and at the time, it felt good. I felt empowered going there, although the side effects were dangerous. After I got off the ride and became aware of my surro