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Soda
The first time I went to Disney it was cold and wet, I was five.
I remember the bright lights coming from the castle.
I waited at the rainy window begging to go that night, but my mom insisted we went the next morning.
I got to the castle, Cinderella, Belle, Elsa and Anna.
I saw them all.
I walked warily through the crowd.
I made it.
All of the rooms were full to the brim.
Cameras, flashing. Smiles as bright as the lights.
Pretty princesses placed everywhere you could see, if you’re tall enough to get a glimpse past the big crowd.
Elsa. She seemed to click with me the most.
I made my way over pushing through the people, and she hugged me.
I felt like I was on top of the world, I felt like I was a princess.
My mom grabbed my hand as we walked out. I turned and waved.
I felt the wet air hit my face.
My mom got me a soda. I never got soda.
But something had changed. I felt older.
It was my birthday.
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Ever since I was little I loved Disney movies and Disney princesses, my grandpa got my mom, grandma and me tickets to go because he knew he was sick and wanted me to spend my birthday at the happiest place on earth.