The ride was moving rapidly, I dug my fingernails into the side of the patched seats, fear clung to me as a baby animal clung to their mother. Then, my heart was ripped from inside my chest and I collapsed, every smidge of hope was snatched from inside me as I lurched forward, the seat ripped from the wall. The ride wrenched me sideways then jerked me the opposite way. This is how I die, on a rusty ride from a dodgy amusement park. My mum died a year ago, caught in a storm on her way home from a trip. She was a sailor, she loved being alone with just the ocean. I love the ocean too, it’s magical and mysterious. There’s something so mesmerizing about how the sea ripples and sparkles like diamonds. A single tear rolled down my cheek, at least mum died in the place where she was the happiest. I was about to fall through the gruesome mouth of death, on a ride at a fair with flaky, coloured drained walls and a stench of nausea. I flung sideways and plunged into a black void. I feel like the walls around me have disappeared, I descended down like the world hit slow-motion. Suddenly I felt drained, my eyes closed as I faded into oblivion.