The scene is simple in concept. Warehouse setting, could be a rave or some other underground party. The hero is wandering through- lost in the crowd and somewhat disoriented. A mass of wriggling bodies continue to dance and twist to the techno beat of the music.
It is not relaxing, nor is it invigorating. It is loud. It is chaotic and it is crazed. The cacophony of the music is troublesome and irritating. Everywhere he turns there are people but no friendly faces to be found. There is no shelter or port to be found. It may not be the perfect storm of thunder and lightning, but a storm it is.
He feels like he is not quite awake but not quite asleep either. Wandering through that place between dreams and reality he strains to remember what it was he once saw and who it was he saw there. The music grows louder, the crescendo coming down with incredible force against his head. He staggers into a wall and collapses upon the ground.
Slumped over he places his head in his hands and fights to find his equilibrium. All he wants is a moment to catch his breath, a chance to regain his balance. The past has found its way into his present and is fighting with his future. Echoes of what once was battle what could be and somewhere in the middle dances what is.
He has fallen down the rabbit hole and there is not a goddamn thing to hold onto. What good is having a grip that would make a gorilla jealous if you haven't anything to hold onto. What value is there in such a thing. It reminds him of a fight he once had many years before.
Two shots to the head had left him reeling. An elbow to the teeth and a kick in the ribs put him on his ass. He remembered the screaming and the cries of pain. He remembered what it felt like to realize that it was him who was making those noises and how hard he had to fight to stand up. How many blows he had to withstand to regain his feet and how good it felt to lash out against them.
The feeling of the flesh on his knuckle tearing as he hit the one in the mouth and the sensation of his teeth clamping down on a shoulder. Pain, fear and anger turning him into an animal who cared only to rend and tear the flesh of those who had tormented him.
And then there was silence. The sudden absence of noise was startling. The music was gone and silence reigned supreme. He opened his eyes slowly, half expecting to see his bedroom. Instead he was greeted by the dark and the proverbial sounds of silence.
Alone and apart he sat there, back against the wall trying to reconstruct how he had gotten to this place. Unsure and afraid he stood up on shaky legs and peered into the dark. The dancers were gone, the music was silent and he had not one clue as to where he was.
He fallen down the rabbit hole and could not say where it would lead or how he would find his way out of there. All he knew was that he really didn't know anything.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
I Fell Down The Rabbit Hole
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i like the word cacophony. i like your fiction even more. you like struggles and searches. turns out i do, too.
I like the journey of life. I know that sounds goofy, but I like exploring the path. Ya know, the whole process of trying to figure out what happens if you get what you want. Or better yet, what happens when you get it but don't realize you had it until you lose it.
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