I found my attention drawn towards a particularly colourful ride; the teacups. It had multicoloured lights placed strategically on it, so as to attract the attention of little children; a flash of azure, a streak of gold. From the ride came the shrill screams of delighted children, mixed with a toe-tapping tune. After the ride came to a stop, I could hear the children begging their parents for just one more go, and their angry cries when they were denied their request.
Next to the teacups, stood the most gigantic ride I had ever seen. The braver children ran towards it, whereas the rest looked at it in despair, and walked away. From it came screams of not happiness, but of pure horror. The ride flung its victims from side to side, up and down, in every direction possible. Underneath the monster stood dozens of worried parents, the hairy caterpillars above their eyes furrowed in worry, horrified that they had let their children onto such a horrible machine. They paced the ground, counting down the seconds until they could take their little angels away from this monstrous ride.
A chilling melody reached my ears. I turned by head to locate the source of the sound, and found myself looking at a haunted house. The jet black walls were covered in skulls, and I’m sure their hollow eyes were staring at me. A group of little children bravely walked up to the House, sure that they were old enough to go on this ride on their own. They boarded the dull grey train that would take them through the haunted house. As the cold, metal safety bars clamped down upon the children and a piercing scream erupted from the speakers, I could tell from the look of worry on their faces, they were having second thoughts. The train eventually started, and slithered away into the darkness. Into horror.
I heard a scream emanating from my left. A little child was having a tantrum. He wanted to go on a ride one more time, but his mother was refusing to let him. The little boy was wearing a small, puffy orange jacket that was too big for him and made him look like an orang-utan. He was jumping up and down like a kangaroo, trying to make a stand. He screamed and I’m sure some glasses may have broken. He then stormed off, his tubby feet making very little progress compared to the long, thin feet of his mother.
Next to me stood a young couple. The girl had had dark auburn hair, leaf green eyes, and the look on her face was one of pure glee. She was wearing a coarse, crimson scarf and a thin leather jacket. The boy had light blonde hair, and sea-green eyes. He towered above me, the height of a tree. Both of them held hands, and looked out across the funfair, shoving that they were shy. Eventually the boy gathered up his courage, and leaned down towards and they both made eye contact. They stood like this for about 5 excruciatingly long seconds before they looked away, and the boy made an excuse about why he leant down. The couple soon walked away.
A young boy, about the age of 4 or 5 was wondering the funfair, looking for someone. He was wearing a thin sea-blue coat, and there were tears glistening on his cheeks. He was lost. He wandered around aimlessly, looking for someone he knew, but he couldn’t see anyone. The boy caused some concern to the adults, but many just ignored him. Eventually, a plump lady where bright red clothing found him, held his tiny hand, and guided him away from the crowds. She hugged him and gave him some gloves, and I could see the family resemblance. They both had the same round nose. She was his mother. The mother then picked up her child, determined not to lose him again, and left through one of the exits.
