Dancing in the rain

Where did everything go so wrong? I can’t look at the television without my teeth sinking into the interior of my lip, my whole body trembles whenever the pandemic is mentioned. We were supposed to be out of lockdown in 2021 but now seeing as it’s 2086, I have no hope left in society.

The abrupt noise of the radio rings in my ear, waking me from the only place I feel safe, a place where everything I desire comes true. I turn to shut it off and lay still, staring at my blank, white ceiling. I just wish one day I could openly walk out my front door and smell the morning dew spread across the rich, emerald grass. If i were to go outside, perhaps I’d plant those flowers I was once so dearly passionate about, reviving them like a phoenix from it’s ashes. But instead, everyone is trapped in their houses, locked up like criminals. Sometimes I think about how it used to be, taking long drives on the open road and going out for dinner. What would happen if I were to go out there, what if I decided I’ve had enough? All anyone has ever heard are rumours, nothing has been confirmed. There was this one story that someone went outside and was tracked down by the government, they were shot before they even made it ten metres from their front porch. It’s all a load of rubbish in my opinion.

My thoughts are immediately disturbed by the sudden, heavy rain. I look out the window where raindrops are chasing each other down the glass. I remember pretending they were racing on the car window as a kid, it’s all so different now. As my mind ponders back on the happy memories, something outside catches my eye. A short, fragile figure is dancing in the rain. I observe the young boys body as it sways smoothly to the heavy beats hitting the surface around him. His moves look so free, every inch of him is radiating good vibes. It’s the first time in years I’ve seen someone so happy. I forgot what it looks like, what it feels like. the edges of my lips crease into a bright, wide smile.

What happens next is too unbearable to describe. Shock devours me in the unexpected change of events. In seconds, any evidence of happiness he was feeling is wiped clean. The blood is drained from his face until he looks like a ghost and his legs crumble under the weight of his body. But what shocks me the most is the fact that I just sit there watching him try to get up, hearing his screams. Should I do something? The piercing noise of his plea continues until…silence. The movement in his body comes to an end. Who knew that the silence of the boy lying lifelessly on the cold, hard road could be more deafening than the sound of screams? My eyes sting as clear liquid sits in my tear duct, unable to fall. Watching the scarlet red blood cover the ground, anger expands through me. It’s surreal that only moments earlier he was filled with life and now, he’s being wrapped in a body bag. And it’s all because he stood outside the front of his house in the middle of a global pandemic.

My heart sinks at the sudden realisation that I did nothing and, in that moment, the tear falls. It falls down my cheek and lands on the windowsill of the place I watched it all happen. Now I know, I can never smell that morning dew or plant those flowers again.