He seemed a little quieter that day, unlike his usual loud, boisterous self. I thought it was kinda weird, considering the fun of an amusement park. I wasn't that concerned though, I was more worried about myself. I don't have the stomache for roller coasters. I don't mind the heights or the speed, but that drop off the first hill doesn't sit well with me. Makes me sicker than a dog in July, as the saying goes.

As the ride neared the crest of it's hill, and my heart began to beat faster, he looked at me.

"Do you think a fall from here would kill you?" he asked.

Gathering my courage, I managed the mental will to look down the hundreds of feet to the ground.

"Probably." I swallowed hard, pushing the lump of fear down as we came to the peak.

"Enjoy the drop," he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and plunged over the edge.

My screams as the ride rushed down the slope outweighed his as he fell, the whoosh of the tracks covering the thud as he hit.

I rode the 'coaster three more times that day, and since then, I can't get enough of the drop. Bigger and bigger rides I rode that day, but the drops just could'nt live up to my new standards. I needed more excitement.

"Enjoy the drop", were the last three words he said to me. Lately, when it's in the early mornings and I can't sleep, I can't help myself from wondering if he enjoyed his.