Escapism

Pulsating through his body, the thump of the beat hitting his chest hard, his heart pumping to the rhythm in darkness. He hears nothing but the beat, his body joining in, moving, his head in a spin, swaying to the trance.

He cracks open his eyes, the flicker of the green light makes him blink fast as they start to adjust to the new scene. The laser lights in sync, he can’t do anything but watch them, changing colour from green to red and back again. A smile comes over his face as he watches the lights break from the silhouette of the crowd in front of him. He hears a roaring cheer echoing through, a minute later realising that that sound came from him; it took a lot of energy from him and he takes a deep breath to regroup.

He fumbles through his pockets and takes out a pack of smokes. Looking at the pack long and hard, concentrating on them. He wants to take a smoke from the pack, but his hand lags behind; looking between the pack and his hand, trying desperately to will his hand to open the pack, take the smoke out, put it in his mouth, and light it. Finally, he succeeds in his mission, unaware of how much time has passed and draws back on his smoke.

Beads of sweat running down the side of his face, he feels hot and decides that it’s time for some water. Making his way through the crowd toward the bar; every step forward, the bar moves further away. His journey is delayed by a woman stepping in front of him, his eyes refocus on her, but he can’t quite make out her face.

Screeching, “YOU HAVE...AMAZING…AMAZING…REALLY THEY ARE AMAZING EYES! THERE’S A GLOW!” she kisses him on the cheek. He’s dumbfounded as to what just happened. Comprehending as best he can, he looks at her curiously, bursts out laughing and continues on his journey.

A moment of blackout, he finds himself standing at the bar. The barman leans in towards him, lending his ear, “WATER”, the barman steps away, comes back with a bottle, signing with three fingers the cost. He fumbles through his pocket, carefully checks which note he has in his hand and leaves it on the bar. Cracking open the bottle, he laps up the water like he hasn’t had any for days; and as if by magic is back where he was on the dancefloor.

Feeling the vibe, the beat pulsating through him, he closes his eyes again and takes in the music. Back to the beginning, back to his own space with no other sound but of the beat and his body vibrating to it. He doesn’t want this feeling to end. This is his space and his time; it’s his and his alone, where no one can touch him. He feels safe and secure, the forcefield of the music and the darkness protecting him. This is where he belongs.

…..

His head aches and his mouth is dry; his tongue feels furry. It’s still dark and his mind feels distant, everything he’s feeling seems far away, outer body. He tries to swallow but his throat is sore, the taste of old cigarettes in his mouth. He puts his hand on his chest, his heart is still beating, but much slower than he remembers. The throbbing in his head becomes more intense and it’s making him wake when he doesn’t want to yet. He’s not ready. The continuous sound of the alarm that he’s desperately trying to ignore makes him slowly open his eyes. The weight of his head almost makes it impossible to turn, but he somehow manages; his eyes are open enough to see the time and he snaps to attention realising how late it is, “Holy shiii”….