Everything in life has some type of danger. Some sort of thrill that makes it exciting and new. Unpredictable. No outcome will ever be the same. The variety and potential mortality of any situation is what makes life worth living. Or so I thought. According to many wise people, there will always be some day, some moment where we realize the truth and the actual rightness in something. Correcting our original point of view, so to speak. When it comes to danger and constantly pulling off absurdly wild stunts, people tend to think that there will eventually be a breaking point. When something so bad happens that you realize, hey, maybe this isn’t so smart as it can cause me to get hurt. Maybe I need to think a little more about what I’m doing and who I’m with before doing something so crazy. For me, this happened when I was hanging upside down in an ATV on top of a 100 foot tall hill. As my seatbelt dug into my skin, I could feel the remorse and the immense regret for not checking my drivers qualifications. Come to think of it, my dad hardly ever drove me anywhere, so I probably shouldn't have trusted him to take me on this trip. Life lesson: never trust your driver. It might have been helpful to come to this drastic realization that I need to fully examine the situation before jumping into something dangerous slightly earlier in the day, but nope. Here I am. Still stuck. Still hanging. Still screaming. From the way my day started, I never would have guessed that I would wind up here. 

It was a completely normal Saturday morning at the Greenbrier hotel. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and I had just woken up. I quickly threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and ran outside along the uneven stone path to catch up with my family. They had already left for breakfast. Without me. Again. I couldn’t be surprised though, this happens a lot. Every time they “accidentally forget to wake me up” or have a “miscommunication”, they brush it off like it is no big deal. And it might not be. It could just be me being overly-sensitive, or dramatic, but there is always this sting inside of me when I’m forgotten. Maybe this is why I act up and try to do crazy things all the time. 

I started slowing my jog down as I got further along the road. To try to boost my energy, I hopped up on the old, stone curb, and started jogging faster. My ankle slipped, and I winced as it bent to the side in a way I am sure the body was not intended to move. I took a few seconds to walk it off, and then I was back to running again. I had just turned near the old, huge, white gazebo when I caught sight of my family just a few yards away. Once I reached them, I bent over slightly, putting my hands on my knees. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and my panting was so loud, I could barely hear myself think. 

Finally noticing me, my mom whipped her head around, flashing a fake smile she plastered on her face. 

“Oh there you are!” she said in a tone that was way too cheerful for an early Saturday morning. 

“We were going to get you,” my dad announced. 

I knew this script. Everything they were saying had been said before, their cheerful, lighthearted behavior had been done before. I knew what was coming next.

My dad continued his well-used speech.

“We just had a -”

“Miscommunication?” I snarked.

My mom tilted her head to the side and offered me a small smile of sympathy. 

“You know we’re sorry. We had good intentions.” she gently spoke.

I did know. Both of them were always so busy chasing after my rowdy brothers, that sometimes the thought of taking care of me, and any of their other responsibilities, slipped their minds. Honestly, it doesn’t bother me all the time anymore. As I’ve gotten older, I realized that it wasn’t that they don’t love me, or don’t care about me anymore, just that they were busy. I’ve learned that I can’t always pick a fight, and sometimes I just have to accept the reality of the situation.

“It’s fine.” I replied. 

We continued the walk to the main building without another argument. Everyone was seemingly in a fine mood, and even engaged in some small talk. Basic stuff- like “how’s the weather?”and “did you hear about the new mask mandate?” with the occasional “What are you having for breakfast?”. Very basic. Some might even say unoriginal, but I would take any “unoriginal” moment with my family over being forgotten at the hotel. 

Eventually, we arrived at the main building. It was massive. The towering, white structure whose seven stories stood above us had over 700 lavishly furnished rooms. EVery detail was impeccable, everything fit perfectly in its place. The eccentric yellows, mixed with beaming blues, and almost every shade of green you could imagine were not something I would have ever thought of to decorate a ballroom, but somehow, it all just worked. All of the vibrant hues in the different textures of fabric between the sofas, chairs, tables, curtains, carpet, and tiled floor just blended together in perfect harmony. The craziness turned into peace. Peace into perfection. Kind of like the day I was having. The craziness of being forgotten turned into peace between me and my family. That peace (and the chocolate croissant I had picked for breakfast) started to create a perfect day. Of course, a perfect day cannot be complete without a perfect stunt. It was in that moment when I sat outside, eating breakfast, that I realized something BIG was going to happen that day, and I had a desire to be a part of it. 

In my personal experience, desire turns into an itch that cannot be scratched unless it is with opportunity. And today must have been my lucky day, because before the itch could turn into an excruciatingly painful rash, opportunities presented themselves. 

Ding!

All of our phones lit up with the same glowing screen, a notification from the hotel. It read: 

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL GUESTS WHO ARE RECEIVING THIS MESSAGE. YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY RANDOM LOTTERY AT THE HOTEL TO GO ON THE ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME. PICK TWO PEOPLE FROM YOUR PARTY (THEY MUST BE AT LEAST 5 FEET TALL) AND SEND THEM TO THE GREETING ROOM AT THE MAIN HOTEL BY NO LATER THAN 10:15 AM ON AUGUST 3. THIS IS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME EXPERIENCE. DO NOT WASTE YOUR CHANCE AT DEATH ON THIS WILD RIDE.

Instantly, I was intrigued. A mysterious life or death situation from an anonymous person. Now that is something you don’t see every day. I was so excited. This was my chance. A perfect stunt to make the perfect day. I could feel my itch starting to relieve. The rash of contemptuousness was starting to fade. My parents, however, did not share the same level of enthusiasm. 

“There is no chance we are going.” My dad said sternly before letting me speak. “No chance whatsoever.”

“Why not?” I replied. I did this with as little attitude as possible. One reason being that I wanted to be on their good sides before they made their final decision, and the second that I was genuinely curious about what they thought would happen. Why would this be such a bad thing? 

“Well” began my mom, very cautiously. “It is important that we think before diving headfirst into anything. If you took the time to really think about this, you would know that something doesn’t sit right. An anonymous invitation that could potentially lead to your death is something that I do not want to get involved with.”

“Please.” I beg. “Can we at least just go to the meeting? We can decide after that whether it is something we should do or not.”

“I’m not so sure.” replied my mom. 

“PLEASE. I’m begging you!” I said desperately. My itch started to return.

“Alright, fine.” replied my dad. “Fine, but if it is dangerous, we go back.”

His words were an ointment that soothed my itch. I had finally grasped it. My perfect stunt. I couldn’t help it as my mouth broke into a wide grin spread across my face. 

“Deal”

“You better hurry!” warned my mom. 

  I instantly looked down at my watch. 10:09. The meeting was in six minutes. I reeked of worry as I started sprinting towards the hotel. This was the fastest I had ever run. Everything about me was defying the laws of physics. Nothing would be able to stop me from getting my perfect stunt. I pushed open the main entrance doors of the hotel, ignoring the dirty looks the concierge was giving me. I glanced at my wrist. 10:12. Three minutes left. I turned right, and sprinted down the vibrant hallway, pushing aside everyone who passed me. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t my best moment, but I was willing to do whatever it took to get to my perfect stunt. 

Finally, I reached the meeting room. I swung the door open and plopped down in the nearest seat. Seconds later, my dad burst in, out of breath. He looked so exhausted from the sprint. I was too excited to be tired. Adrenaline spread through my body like a wildfire, and it was a struggle for me to contain myself in my seat. When I get excited for something like this to happen, I get anxious, which causes me to become fidgety. To try and keep myself entertained, I looked around me. There were very few people who actually showed up for the “ride of life or death”, and the majority of them were middle aged men. There were a couple of other teenagers like me, and only one other woman, although she looked like she was much older, about 70 or so. There were only 14 people in the room. I guess this hotel wasn’t full of thrill-seekers. 

The room was all white, except for the chairs which we sat in. It was a padded cell in a psychiatric hospital. It was a person dying to be set free.

SLAM!

All of a sudden, the giant door slammed shut. An absurdly tall man wearing a red collared T-shirt walked into the room. The sides of his dark hair were slicked back, but the front stood straight up. He had oval glasses that were way too small for his face. He did not look like the kind of person to be offering a thrilling experience.

“Hi!” he said. “I’m Chris, and I will be informing you of what you signed up for!”

Several hushed murmurs travelled through the air, each floating around in their own little bubble of quietness. No one here had signed up, everyone just showed up. I turned towards my dad, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in what appeared to be confusion and annoyance. Already, this was not going as intended.

“We didn’t sign up for anything.” one brave voice echoed through the room. 

“Well,” Chris began slowly. “You will all still be participating in this experience.”

It sounded like he had a cold. His voice was nasally and he kept sniffing a lot.

“All of you are to go through the back exit of this room and walk down the dirt path. You will eventually arrive at a building and be given further instructions.”

“Do we get to know what we are doing?” someone in the back shouted.

“Nope.” He replied with a grin on his face.

With that, Christ walked over towards the left-most wall of the room. He ran his finger along the wall, until he hit a bump. He stopped, smiled, and pulled a hidden door open. Everyone looked around in awe. No one moved. No one was sure what to do.

“What are you waiting for? Go!”

We did as Chris directed, and the small group of thrill-seekers walked briskly through the forest. I was imagining this walk would be long, painful, slow, but it was in fact the opposite. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and the chirping of birds was so happy it was almost aggravating. The walk was relatively quick, about five minutes or so, and before I knew it, the dirt path stopped at a small, square building. There was a parking lot next to it with all types of off-roading vehicles. A stout man swung open the glass front door. 

“Welcome,” He said in a gravelly voice. “And thank you for taking the risk to be here.”

“What are we even doing?” shouted my dad.

I elbowed him. This questioning attitude was not the kind of impression I like to give. Frankly, it was embarrassing, especially in this group of adventurous people. They probably all thought that we were weak.

“We are planning on offering a new off-roading experience at the hotel,” he responded. “You all will be the first people to test it out. All of those who intended on driving follow me; I will give you a lesson on how the ATV works. If you aren’t driving, go inside and pick out a helmet and goggles for you and your partner.”

The group did what he said. Seven adults trailed the instructor and went over towards the vehicles. I followed the other six passengers inside and over to a wall covered with helmets. I took a large one for my dad and a small one for me. I figured these would be the right sizes, but just to make sure, I put mine on and shook my head. It remained in place. Good. I would be safe. I walked over towards the bin of goggles and grabbed two pairs. I then swung the door open and was greeted with a wave of heat from the outside. 

I looked around, admiring the rugged vehicles that stood before me. They would supply me with all that I needed to pull off my perfect stunt. My perfect day. I smiled, and walked over to my dad. I handed him his helmet and goggles, and we both put them on. I hopped inside the conveyance and buckled my seatbelt. We waited for everyone else to do the same, and then started to form a line of cars. Everyone stayed behind the instructor. Although this was a group of wild people, no one was stupid enough to go first, especially since we weren’t quite sure what we were doing yet. 

The instructor started driving into the woods, followed by a blue ATV. Then a red one. After that, a green one. I started to feel very impatient, but I knew we were up next. My dad put the ATV into second gear, and we were off.

The ground was uneven, and we kept bouncing up and down. Up and down. Up and down. I thought about my mom, and realized it was a good thing she decided not to come (she has vertigo). I don’t think anyone in my family would have enjoyed this very much. My brothers like activities that involve movement. They are so impatient and anxious that they can hardly sit still for five minutes. I, however, can sit still when I’m doing something exciting. I think that the turbulence on the plane is remarkable, and whenever we are shaking, my survival instincts kick in, and I devise a plan on how to escape. Luckily, I’ve never actually had to use one of these plans, but it helps me to always feel prepared. It prevents my nerves from getting the better of me. It makes me feel secure. Like I can conquer the world.

That was the feeling I had right now. The thrill. The excitement. The danger. Adrenaline ran through my veins as my dad drove at full speed on the uneven ground. It had rained several days before, and the ground was very muddy. Every time we drove near a muddy pit, we had to increase our speed to reduce the risk of getting stuck. Whenever this happened, I would fill with joy. Everything else in the world was temporarily on pause, and for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely happy. 

We were about thirty minutes into the ride when suddenly, the feeling beneath my feet changed. Instead of the fast-paced vibration I previously felt, everything seemed much slower, as though we were driving through molasses. Time slowed down, and we became more desperate. We were stuck. This was not the life or death promising situation we had initially been promised, but it did make everything seem much more real. Much more dangerous. Much more unpredictable. 

My dad looked over at me. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The worried expression on his face spoke enough words for all of eternity. He wasn’t used to being put in dangerous positions like this. He alway tried to take the safe route in everything. I saw life in a no-risk, no-reward perspective, but for him, risk meant opportunities of failure. He had never, ever been stuck before, because he never did anything remotely dangerous or unique.

“Shift the ATV into third gear,” I directed him. “Then drive as fast as you can. That should be enough power to get us out of here.”

I’m sure he wasn’t the most confident in taking orders from a thirteen year old, but it’s not like he had a better idea- or any idea. Reluctantly, he did what I said, and to his surprise, it worked. We were no longer stuck. I, on the other hand, was expecting this outcome. I don’t say this to be arrogant, by any means, it’s just that I'm a professional escape artist, and I am getting myself out of sticky situations on a daily basis. It’s only expected that I could do the same here. 

For the next half-hour of the ride, we sat in silence. Neither of us knew what to say. It’s not like anything bad actually happened. Just almost happened. That led me to start thinking, and I mean really thinking about things. What if we weren’t just stuck? What if the rest of the group left without us? What if? I had always hated those words, so hearing myself repeating them in my head felt like the world as I knew it was over. Like I was no longer a kid. Like I was an adult, and would start having to act responsibly. Yuck.

We started to go uphill. It was frightening, but there was something about this woods that was so peaceful. They made me feel protected. The ATV started to shake slightly, and almost jumped. The semi-smooth dirt path we were on had transformed into a rocky, dirt road. It started shaking back and forth, side to side, up and down. I gritted my teeth to refrain from them chattering along with the motion of the vehicle. 

The small rocks became bigger as we went further uphill. As the size of the rocks increased, so did the intensity of the violent jolts we were experiencing. They only got bigger and more intense as we continued our way up. There was this one rock formation that was so big, I was honestly petrified of the idea that we had to go over it. 

As we drove nearer to it, I started to prepare myself for whatever bad thing might happen. Thousands of thoughts ran through my head.

What can happen?

What if the vehicle becomes airborne?

What if we can’t land it?

What if we get hurt?

What if we die?

There was no time to form a plan for the worst case scenario. I just had to embrace that something would happen, and the result of it would be out of my control. That alone was terrifying enough for me. I always like to be in control of everything. That way I know it will be alright. This situation was far from alright. My dad, who was possibly the worst driver in existence, drove closer and closer to the giant rock formation that we somehow had to drive over, and I turned pale.

This Could be it, I thought.

I said a quick Hail Mary and braced myself for whatever was about to happen. My left arm gripped the side of the ATV and my right was clasped tightly around the arm rest separating my dad’s seat from mine. I held onto the vehicle with all my might so much that I hurt. We were so close to disaster. I could feel it. 

My dad stamped his foot down on the pedal, and drove full speed towards the formation. The front wheels lifted upwards as they went over it, and we were sitting at a 15 degree angle. It was exciting, but also terrifying. I clamped my hand over my mouth as a scream escaped my lips, but then quickly put it back on the arm rest. I braced myself for the impact of landing, as the vehicle was almost three feet in the air at that point. 

Thud!

We hit the ground hard, and there was a jolt of pain seeping through every part of the ATV and those who were in it for a split second. 

I burst out laughing. We did it. We overcame the obstacle. My perfect stunt was almost finished.

My dad joined me, and we spent a good five minutes shooken up with laughter, shock, and fear. Probably not the most helpful of emotions at a time like this, but the ground had become more flat and much more tolerable. I felt a lot safer and a lot more comfortable. Yes. This was it. A perfect stunt to end the perfect day. 

Or so I thought. What I thought was the end was actually just a cliff. Well, not quite a cliff, moreso the top of a very, VERY steep hill. It overlooked a college football field. Everything looked so small, and this made me realize just how big this hill was. 

My dad is not the best driver. He never had been. He never will be. I was surprised I was able to trust him up until this point. He hardly ever drives me anywhere, so I don’t know why I was so sure that this would be okay. Even if the lesson wasn’t only five minutes, even if he was a professional driver, I still don’t know if he could successfully make it through this rugged track. 

As we neared the edge, I could see another obstacle we needed to get past: a rock formation, bigger than the last one, followed by a small hole that one of our wheels could easily get stuck in. 

It will be fine! I tried to reassure myself. You made it through the last one, so why couldn’t you do the same here?

Although as we got closer, I became less sure that we would be okay. Even if by some miracle we could make it over the rock, we would still have to plow through the hole and make it down the 100 foot hill that lay beyond that. Yes. Now I was sure. We would not make it out of here without a story to tell. 

The distance between our vehicle and the rock became less by the second. Twenty feet away. Now ten. Five. We were there. 

Cautiously, my dad drove slowly over the rock. I felt unsteady as my side went up in the air, and my dads went down to the ground on an angle. This unnerving feeling was tranquilized once all four wheels were secure against the ground. Then I felt it. 

Plump.

The front wheel had landed in a small hole just in front of us. The small hole I had seen earlier, but for some reason decided not to warn my dad about. The feeling of pure fear spread over me once more.

I looked over at my dad, waiting for him to comfort me, but the second I saw his face, I realized he was even more scared than I was. 

“Just go nice and slow. Take it easy. It is better to be safe than sorry, right?”

He looked over at me and offered me a small smile.

“Right,” he replied. 

So he progressed forwards, driving slowly through the hole. Our front-wheel made it through, but our back wheel was stuck. And no, this was not the kind of stuck like earlier, where it is easy to get out of. This is the kind of situation where you are stuck. No moving, no getting out. 

My dad tried to move forwards, but it only created more problems. I don’t know what he was thinking. My side of the ATV lifted up, off the ground. I looked down at the football field below us, and imagined watching us tumble down the hill. It was so far down. I tried to focus on it, but everything became a blur. I slowly rose up, higher, higher, higher, and my dad’s side inched towards the ground. I tried to resist the inevitable fall. I shifted my weight as far to the side as I could, hoping it would balance their vehicle out and we could land back on all four wheels. It was no use. The breaks cried in agony. My neck snapped forwards and my mind went black as we went falling towards the ground.

I heard a crack! as we hit the ground. I saw blood spurting out of my dad’s elbow and knee. I looked down at my own body, and saw that a layer of skin on my right calf had been ripped off. It was a mess. People from the other groups immediately jumped out, and were working to get my dad out of the vehicle. I just hung there, sideways. The seatbelt dug into the skin in my stomach. 

Ouch.

I tried to use my hands to push against the seatbelt so I wasn’t hanging at that angle. It offered me a slight relief for about a minute, but I was struggling to hold myself up. My muscles gave up, my body caved in, and I fell back to the side, my head smashing against the dashboard. I put my hand up to my forehead. Blood dripped down from it.

Ahh.

I needed help. I tried yelling at the others to help get me down, but I was so scared and in so much pain, no words were able to come out. 

Help.

I tried to ask, tried to scream, but it was no use. I was giving up. I knew I needed to do something. Hanging there would only make my physical pain worse. I jammed my knuckles into the button on the seatbelt. It slightly came out. 

The elderly woman I noticed earlier was the first to realize someone else was in the car. She immediately pushed her way through the crowd of people helping my dad, and walked over to me. 

“Help.” It was merely a whisper. It was all I could manage. Somehow, she heard. 

She pointed to my seatbelt, and I did my best to nod. My head throbbed. She called over a young man and directed him to hold me up as she pulled the seatbelt up. He did as she instructed, and on the count of five, she pulled the seatbelt from underneath me. It scraped against the side of my stomach, and I could feel the burn of fresh air against my wound. More blood. 

It took about five people to get me out of the car, but they were able to do it relatively quickly. I stood up as soon as I could, rushing over to my dad. I needed to make sure he was alright. Luckily, he was fine, and in a stable enough condition to walk over towards the people trying to lift the ATV off the ground. The instructor ran over towards us, and immediately called for help on his walkie-talkie. 

Shortly after, a red jeep came and picked us up. The driver helped us in. It was an old car. It smelled like expired cheese.

I sat in silence for a while. My dad and the driver talked about how much it would cost. Of course. There we were, sitting in the back of a strangers car, bleeding, injured, and he was worried about how much it would cost. I interrupted their conversation, barely audible.

“Where are you taking us?”

The driver looked back at me and smiled. “We are going to the local hospital. They will make sure you are alright.”

I sat in silence until we pulled up to the hospital. It was an old, yellow building. Not very comforting. I pulled open the car door and stepped out. I wince as I landed on my right leg. 

The driver introduced us to a nurse, who led us inside and into room nineteen. She told my dad to stay put, and me to continue following her. She led me into room twenty, and gave me a clipboard. 

“Fill out all symptoms, injuries, and/or mental difficulties you’ve had since the crash.” she instructed before walking out of the room in a hurry. 

I glanced down at the paper in my lap. I checked off some of the boxes, like bleeding, but there were also some absurd ones that I don’t think you would get from an ATV crash, like hypothermia and malaria. 

I finished the form and walked out of the room into the waiting area. I found my dad waiting for me.

“So,” he said.

“So,” I replied.

“What a day.” he remarked.

That didn’t even begin to describe what I had experienced. The physical pain mixed with the mental traumatization and desperation I felt throughout the ride made me feel like a new person. A conscientious person. A person who doesn’t dive into situations without logically thinking them through. A person who is prepared and ready for anything. A person who is adventurous, but most importantly, safe. A person who was not the same girl who stepped out of bed at the greenbrier hotel this morning and realized she was forgotten. This person would not be forgotten, because they were strong, independent, and always wanted their opinion to be heard when deciding what would happen. This was not the same trusting person.

“Yeah,” I responded. “What a day.”