The slingshot ride looked harmless enough. Just a fast launch, a big scream, and a funny memory. At least, that’s what the son told his mom while convincing her to get on. She trusted him. That was her first mistake.
The moment they were strapped in, reality hit. The mom grabbed the safety bars like they were the last solid things on Earth. Her smile slowly vanished. The son, who had been acting brave just seconds earlier, suddenly went quiet. Very quiet.
When the countdown started, the mom whispered, “I don’t like this.” The son nodded. Too late.
The launch was instant. Their bodies flew upward, and their screams blended into one long sound of pure panic. The mom yelled her son’s name like she was trying to save him from falling into another dimension. The son screamed back, apologizing for everything — from this ride to every bad decision he had ever made in his life.
For a few seconds, both of them genuinely believed this was the end. The mom’s eyes were wide open, her face frozen in terror, while the son’s head tilted back like his soul had left his body. Gravity disappeared. Time slowed. Fear took control.
From the ground, people laughed. From the seat, it felt like they were almost dead.
Then the ride started to come down. Their screams turned into nervous laughter mixed with heavy breathing. When it finally stopped, the mom didn’t move. She just stared straight ahead, silent and shocked. The son looked at her and said, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She didn’t yell. She didn’t laugh.
She just said one thing:
“Never trust you again.”
They survived the slingshot — but that ride will be brought up at family dinners forever.
