The place I constantly visited growing up, whether it be for the weekly Sunday mass I don't understand, or visiting my Aunt's place, or just to ride the children's rides at Luna Park, or Deno's World. The waves of screams come and go as the roller coasters loop around their tracks. The savory scent of Nathan's hot dogs and cheese fries flows throughout the whole park, aiding me into a sense of comfort. Finally we get to the booths where we buy our $25 refillable cards and enjoy the rides where we scream our heads off like banshees and line up to release more endorphins. We go on some children rides to remind us that were still children in this fucked up world, but we ignore that, because today is all about escaping our harsh reality and living in the moment. We laugh at the adults' faces as we get on the ride, the seats making us morph into one because of how we dwarf the seats that once engulfed us. We honk the horns on the rides, wave at anyone we see and laugh aloud. But then we get hungry and we go to eat where the savory scent leads us to. A snake-like line is what we arrive at, but that doesn't bother us as we get more time to talk. We order the usual, a kids meal which includes small fries and an original hotdog with a drink of your choice, because we're too scared to try anything new. We don't like change so we stick to what we know. We sit outside in the shade because it's much too hot to sit out in the blazing sun. We talk about how we got ready, how our legs feel bare without all the prickly thorns, the way we missed some spots and hope no one's around to look at them. Once we're done blabbering about our morning we talk about our future. We become our parents and teachers, pestering each other with questions we don't know the answers to. "I don't know, I want to go abroad but..." is what we discuss. Then we slowly realize we're ruining the moment and stop talking as we finish eating in comfortable silence. We pick up after ourselves, unlike most who just leave their plates and cups around, and head to the motionless sand and ripple-full water. We take our shoes and socks off and go off to the shoreline. The path is scalding hot, and sharp as we feel the burning garbage and glass underneath our sensitive feet. We fasten our steps and reach the long awaited salty water. Though the water is murky it doesn't bother us the slightest bit. We dip our toes into the water and squeal at the freezing temperature. We cackle and double over at our dramatics. We take pictures, getting each other into frame to relish in the moment. I dare to stand in the freezing water, my friend gazing at me, calling me insane for even saying it's "alright" as I continue snapping shots of the beautiful horizon. I walk over to the rocks as she waddle's behind me and I convince her that it's warmer there, though hesitant she reluctantly shuffles towards me. Realizing she's made a mistake it's too late for her to turn back now as a big wave crashes onto the shoreline. We ran away from the beach and walked to a bench. The walk back—a lot harder as we feel more garbage poke us from underneath. We finally sit down carefully, wiping our feet to rid the small sediments we call sand. The silence—uncomfortable as we know the day is coming to an end. Reluctantly we replace our bare feet with socks and Converse walking slowly to our destined place. Dreading what comes next we reluctantly say a few things before we part. "We should definitely bring more money next time we come," and "we're going on that ride next." Alas we arrive at the station most call Coney Island-Stillwell Ave, but to us we arrive at the station called Reality. "It was fun seeing you again, text me when you get home safely," we say. We smiled sadly and waved away as our figures got smaller and smaller. We walk to our respectful platforms and wait for our trains to come by or take off. The ride home is quiet, dull, resentful. The once rollercoasters that swallowed us whole—dwarf in size as the horizon view vanished, the scent of the ocean breeze and food chains that once comforted me, faded into nothingness.
