One Man Band

• Josephine Athas, Grade 7, Danebank - An Anglican School For Girls
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

Mildly triggering content
My shoes make a stable thud on the rich, fertile soil, creating a steady beat of the toms, keeping the band together. Left, right. High tom, low tom. The quiet beating of my heart is a snare, with a simple yet vital rhythm. The wind is my flute, carrying a familiar tune so precisely and delicately, while the rustling evergreen trees whisper subtle harmonies.
I close my eyes. 3, 2, 1.
Now, my mind comes to life.
Scintillating blue butterflies waltz above the distant valley of poppies, the tranquil atmosphere sending me into an enigmatic nirvana. The clouds form silhouettes of whirling dervishes, spinning across the skies, towards the nine fields of the eleven petal barberries. The smell of orange blossom rides on the cool spring breeze.
I close my eyes. 3, 2 ,1. When I open them again, the scenery has changed completely.
Elephants ride on unicycles, while lions jump through hoops of fire. Bears throw tri-colour rings while horses in costumes tango and monkeys juggle beanbags. The bouncy melody of the 1812 Overture frolics throughout the red and white striped tent.
Once again, I close my eyes. 3, 2 1.
My eyes flutter open, to be faced with a hazy, pastel suburbia, bustling with eccentrically dressed people. Some look familiar, some not so much. I see my favourite primary school teacher, dressed in a wild assortment of eclectic, yellow and baby blue fabrics. Down the road, I see two identical twin sisters laughing, one with a tall lilac bun and one with fluorescent green piggy tails. Everyone’s smile matches the vibrant colours of the boulevard and their clothing. There is a bubbly, buoyant mood, that just seems perfect.
Too perfect, too good to be true.
I start to feel dizzy. Really dizzy.
Then I see her. The barely conscious expression painted onto her face, low pitched, drunken slurs standing out against the greetings and laughter of everyone else here.
Really dizzy.
“Mum?”
The real world leaks through my four walls, washing my utopia away.
I’m dizzy. Really dizzy. Really dizzy...
Then I collapse back onto the broken alcohol bottles that make up my reality.
The weight of heavy instruments once made me happy, but now it’s just now holding me down.
I’m left as a one man band, dealing with everything on my own.