Disney World. Words that should be universally greeted with smiles and cheers, but in my world, frowns and tears prevailed. As a child, I envied anyone who had gone to Disney World. However, as my fairytale unfolded, instead of being a dream come true, my trip was the worst nightmare ever.
The summer of 2006, my aunt, my cousins, my grandfather, and my immediate family set off for Florida. In the van, my brother, Alex, conveniently sat next to me. First, cursing, then complaining and violence: all directed at me. Finally, when we arrived at our destination, I was black and blue. Sadly, the week got worse and worse.
Our first stop was the Magic Kingdom. Entering Cinderella’s Castle, large yellow signs blocked our path, “Closed for Construction.” Like a barrage of bullets, raindrops pelted us, as we dripped over to a hot dog stand. Thus began our hot dog week. Afterwards, I could not stand even the thought of sausage. At the Epcot, Alex refused to wait in any line, so we rode one ride. Disney’s Hollywood Studios ended up consisting of a movie, a delayed play, and a soaked show.
Lastly, we visited the Typhoon Lagoon. Choosing the tallest ride, there seemed to be an endless amount of people ahead of us. After four hours, it was our turn. Loading the log boat, the ride lazily snaked through dark tunnel until we started to climb steadily to the highest drop. We floated until we were right at the edge and preparing for the five story plunge when suddenly, everything stopped. I stared at my mother and brother, eyes wide in shock, questions raging through my mind. Why had we stopped? Were we going to die? I felt my heart race, closed my eyes, and grabbed the handlebars, praying to survive. On the edge of life and death, I opened my eyes and saw clearly for the first time. No matter what, my family would always be there for me. After my epiphany, the ride started again and flying down the steep hill we went. I lifted my eyes to the sky and smiled, but my smile faded as rain began to fall. My last glimpse of Disneyworld was a sign, “Closed.”
On our drive home, we stopped by a Chinese buffet. I was thoroughly enjoying my fried rice when a scream sent my spoon flying. I turned and saw Katy holding her right hand, tears streaming down her face. Right next to her was a boiling pot of egg drop soup. A waiter had carelessly bumped into Katy and caused her hand to slip. Thankfully, the burn was mild, so Katy just needed some ice, but she kept sniffling. Not long after, Tammy became sick. For the next six hours, I suffered through hearing the sounds and smelling the disgusting odor of vomit until the familiar red bricks of my house appeared.
Home sweet home is true, but in reality, family is sweeter. I realized that I had taken advantage of having a home to come back to when so many others in the world do not, and I began to understand how blessed I am to have such a great family. Although this trip may not have been the best, I learned to be grateful for the people in my life, instead of the ever-changing materialistic factors. From this disastrous trip, I discovered that some good did come out of all the bad, for I have come to realize that when you are unlucky, it is just because you have not realized how truly lucky you are.
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