Dancing to the Trumpet's Tune

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This is a horror piece with gory descriptions. I hope you enjoy! Also, I enjoy feedback; feel free to comment.

A loud ringing wakes me, a trumpet sound. I see fuzzy white dots popping in the darkness, and I push myself off the ground; how did I get here? A white glow illuminates my vision, and I'm on a sidewalk under the bright moon. Limbs bruised and aching, head twisting and throbbing, eyes burning and stinging. I feel something below: a white flower nestles on my collar bone with its head facing the ground. A strong smell wafts into my nostrils: it's pleasing and warm; I'm reminded of a soft hand patting my head making all the pain flee from my body. I pull on the flower releasing a thrashing from my brain; it kicks and punches until I let go. I don’t feel like walking or moving, I feel heavy and sleepy. What's going on? One dusty moth circles around and settles on the tip of the flower―—But that sound again, the trumpet tune pinching my ears leads me forward along the right path; I can't stop, must continue going.

Bright yellow lights from homes and buildings guide me. I don't know where I'm going; people don't seem to notice me. Who am I? The light changes to green, but I don't want to cross, where would I go? Cars on the road stop at a red light, before driving off, leaving everything behind including me. A girl looks at her phone, she doesn't look up; she smiles and a giggles. What is she looking at? The light turns red and the girl leaves my sight. My head continues hurting, my brain wants something I could feel it crying and yelling, but I don't know what it wants. What can I do? I stumble forward and I see a group of men whistling at a woman passing by. One of the men calls her and the others laugh, but she continues forward until one starts to follow.

“Hey hold up,” he says. He grabs her under a lamppost and looks at her. He grimaces, “sorry, never mind,” he says. She crosses the street, and the man returns angry, looking down at the sidewalk and all of the men laugh. My brain swells, the scent of the flower grows stronger. My brain is hungry, I need food, I need to feed my brain.

A soft bell chimes in the corner; a man rings a little yellow bell on the ground. Wrinkles stain the edges of his eyes: he's been doing this for a while. His indented cheeks are pale, and will continue sinking into his face if he doesn't eat. The ringing fades, his nimble fingers let go of the bell. He's a mini hotdog bundled up in a mustard coat, a ketchup scarf and a pickle tuque; my brain trembles and whines, I feel hungry.

There are lights coming from a mall. I push through the spinning door and notice all the shiny things behind the windows. My brain growls, I'm starving. People rarely look at me, their eyes focused on bright screens. A couple of eyes shift and linger watching as I move through the mall, but most don't notice me; they move out of the way or they quicken their pace. I feel like grabbing them and..., that burger looks good with the fresh cooked not frozen meat. I'm very hungry, I could eat raw meat. How do I get that burger again? I need to give something right? But I can't find anything in my pockets. Maybe someone will give me it.

I speak, but no one listens, I stick my arm out and people pass by. I need to find something to exchange. Where can I find it? Two men hold hands and stop to stare at the television screen. People pass by and stare at the couple, lingering; some frown and their foreheads wrinkle, others gaze at the two hands in contact. I stand here with no one looking at me, while I'm hungry.

There's nothing in here for me, no food. I exit the building and my brain rolls around on its back crying for food. A woman waits in the corner, talking on the phone,

“She looked interesting. Well, she's letting her hair grow natural, but it looks bushy and awful; use a straightener.” Her long hair falls off her shoulders and sways; she turns around and looks down the street: she's waiting for something. I ask her for help, but she doesn't look. I wave and move, trying to get her attention, but she doesn't care; I'm too hungry.

I grab her hair, each strand curling around my fingers, some strands sliding underneath my fingernails. Our eyes connect and her scream follows. The phone smacks onto the ground, while her hands wrap around my shoulders. One swift bite and I peel the rapper off exposing the red chewy goodness underneath. I chew and chew and chew, letting it stick to the roof of my mouth and between the cracks of my teeth; I let some tangle off my lip and slurp it back inside. The flower smell lingers in my nose calming me, soothing my hunger. Its still white no red juice on the flower. The bright light shines beckoning me to continue, to find more food.

A loud trumpet sound scratches behind my ears, cleaning away all the dirt piling there; my vision blurs and warps. I need to continue, I need to move, I can't stop. Mini hot dog man is walking; he's shuffling down the street with a white flower coming out of his belly. I feel hungry need more food. Cars are racing back and forth, horns are loud and I can hear footsteps hitting the sidewalks. I need food, my brain bangs its fists in my head repeatedly.

I stumble on the ground and a group of adults start laughing and pointing at me. They hold black rectangles with a bitten apple on it, up to me: yummy chewy silver apples. Bright lights flash from their rectangles, and they laugh. What's so funny? I come closer to them, some scream and run, but this one stays. He wears a blue cap on his head, his brown eyes shine and look at me catching every detail.

I pluck them out. As I chew, he screams and cries, clutching the holes in his head; he looks funny. The juices gush into my mouth and I swish them around left to right. I feel jelly swimming in my mouth, flowing on my tongue: slides down my throat easily. I bite into the other and allow the juices to gush down my lips. There's a squishy bit with a hole, I thrust my tongue threw the hole and it stretches until I break it and swallow. Yummy, very sweet.

I hear something crash behind me. A little boy crouches in the corner, his pale fingers grip the ground. He stares at me with big round eyes, he hunches over exposing a thin and frail figure. His body could snap at any moment. His lips dry and flaky, and clothes dirty and old, I'm still hungry, but he's more of a snack I need a meal. No more wasting time on little snacks, need to find bigger meals. A moth dances around the flower, and the smell reminds me of a warm day.

A group of people stand around a television, their eyes stuck on the screen with a woman. She says, “there's been an odd occurrence in the downtown area. People are advised to report...” I keep walking and walking, feeling my body shrivel and shrink: nothing wants to move anymore.

A dog barks at me, our eyes lock and the dog's tongue hangs out. His owner pulls on the leash and continues to tug, but the dog stays in place until the owner's foot smacks the observant dog's ribs. A yelp tells me to approach closer as the owner yells. I stare at the owner wrapping the leash around his hand and I take a swift bite. His wrist opens allowing me to slurp more red juice from those red twisted strands. I twist them together and suck them dry, leaving them clear. I could feel pressure on my arm and I see the owner smacking me there. He stops to look at me, and I thrust myself onto his neck, more red juice and I feel full, and happy. More of the sweet scent keeps me calm. The dog waddles away and pees on a tree. My arm feels heavy and weird. The sound again, I hear it, the trumpet calls me.

Screams run through the streets. A woman eats a man on the floor under a lamppost; a flower grows from her chest. Mobs running in all directions. A car hits a woman in a wheelchair and continues to drive off. Her body lays on the street one leg under her belly and the other off to the right. Sounds everywhere, but the trumpet grabs my hand and pulls me forward.

Light shines from a window and I see a man, woman and child. The man in the corner, while the child clutches his waist. She moves closer and closer, with a knife. The woman is in front of him; the woman yells and the child runs away; man stays behind trying to grab woman, but she lunges for his neck. They look stupid toppling one another and moving from room to room, and I'm hungry. He pushes her into the table, but she stabs him in the neck, and he drops to the floor, red gooey goodness comes out.

I break through window and the woman looks at me, mouth open, but my mouth open too. I push her down and tare out the pink gummy tape from her belly, wrapping it around my finger and tongue. I chew down, very squishy and long, I want to blow a bubble. More red goodness comes out for me to drink. She tastes, alright, but he probably tastes better. Loud sound hits my ears, I hold them, but ears keep rattling. I look over man gets up, with a strong smell coming from his neck. A white trumpet flower grows out of his neck. He looks at me and leaves: maybe he knows where more food is.

More screams and shouts. Food running everywhere, holding more food, pulling more food. So hungry need to eat. More people around: the small boy has a flower growing from his mouth, there's a child with a flower growing from his heart, and a woman crawling on the floor with a flower growing from her back. I drag my arm, it hangs on the side. Mini hot dog man on the floor, sleeping finally, let him sleep. No one should wake him, he needs to rest.

Food screams, another food points a thing at his face and a loud pop hits my ears. He takes the man's wheel box and leaves. Everyone stares, everyone sees us walking now, they know we're here. An old woman hunches above the food; her grey hair flowing in the wind with white trumpet flowers nestling between bunches of hair strands. She has a necklace of flowers around her neck I could smell a strong sweet perfume. The moon shines on her brown skin, illuminating the small wrinkles on her forehead, neck and hands. She picks one from her hair and places the flower into the gooey red hole on the food; she pulls out a brown pouch and pours water on the flower. She gently blows and a loud sound buzzes in my head banging around, I almost fall. She smiles and pets the flower's petals and watches as the man stands up, before vanishing. I feel warm. She seems sweet, who is she?

Box with wheels sits, no food inside. Screaming, I see food surrounded by lots of food. Food screaming at food; why food screaming? Very stupid. Food trying to put food down and peel off skin. Food don't like that, food swinging and picks up popping thing. More popping sounds. Food on the ground along with other food. One stands above before I eat. Taste alright, I take long fingers and lick, and lick them. Long fingers have a hard crunchy nail; I dip fingers into red juice and slurp up. Licking and licking, I nimble and bite scraping away everything, yummy. Snapping back the head all the squishy and hard stuff comes out, and I scoop up everything with my tongue. Let all the red wash over my tongue. Taste sweet, I lick and lick, until all juice gone and I bite fingers each one snaps in half and I crunch them into tiny pieces. Trumpet sound leads me further: I follow like someone picking me up and carrying me away. The woman with white flower in her hair stands on a roof, blowing into the flower calling me to continue forward. Her wrinkles stretch as she smiles; her thin white square teeth stack together in two rows.

“You must see everything child. I give you a second chance to help others see too, all of you must see” she says. She blows on the flower and I follow the sound, it leads me to the right and I keep going.

 I go to a house. I hear, “honey, get into the car we need to go; we can't wait any longer.” I go inside and food stares at me. Food says, “you're here, we thought something happened to you.” Food steps forward and looks at me, food opens mouth and yells. Food runs to the back. I follow and here a bang, and a young food asks, “who was that?” and turns around looking at me. Fresh food has chocolate egg eyes with a nice gooey surprise inside. Our eyes connect and food looks weird, wrinkly and scrunchy with water flowing from the chocolate eyes. I follow behind, but they go inside box with wheels and I watch them leave. Too fast for me, I really want the surprise inside, but can't, there still more food.

My arm itches, I scratch and scratch. My legs are heavy and slow, I start to drag one leg behind, too slow. Wish food is slow, but food runs fast. Moths flutter around flower, many of them coming to flower and smell. I go to light and see. Where food? Plop.My arm flops to the ground, rotten and useless. I feel sleepy and tired, don't feel like going anymore. Sleep. Rest. My body no longer wants to go. Moths are gone flying somewhere else and eyes want to leave with them. Tired. Seeing somewhere else. Bones crack and break, stiffening, harder to walk. Feel sleepy, brain is tired and wants to sleep and close eyes, but still wants night snack. No, too tired like mini hot dog man. Sleep is good, dream, no more seeing.

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