The Drummer

I look at the wave of people crashing towards me and blink, rooted to the spot.

The bodies slam into me and I hurtle onto the littered, dusty floor. I shield my face with my aching arms, clutching my drum sticks in my fists. People stamp and grind their various boots into my outstretched legs and yelp in pain as the bruises seep into my limbs.

I tighten my hold on my music sheets, the precious semi-quavers tearing at the edges as I try to leap to the surface, suffocating under the sweet, pungent smell of sweat. The ground vibrates and shudders under my body, now twisted into an irregular shape, and my right juts out at a strange angle.

"I h-have to get up," I to grit my teeth to stop my teeth from chattering, sensing the metallic taste of blood pool on my tongue.

I choke back the sticky, scarlet, liquid starting to glide down my chin, and tilt my head carefully to the dull sky. Brilliant lights blind me momentarily as the strobe lights swivel to face the shadowed stage. The lights make me shake as I hear the two metal rods scrape together to move the beam. The noise hits my gut and the blood on my hands and face thickens. I glimpse my fellow band members waving and smiling at the crowds, and narrow my eyes, fighting hard not to pass out. My vision swims, I can't focus.

At that second, the band starts playing, and the bass vibrations increase violently as I hear the drummer replacing me. Playing my music; I freeze.

I lie there, listening.

The crowd never realise I was supposed to be on the stage that night. They deafen me as their screams of admiration drown out the music. Each second stings. My music sheets lie beside me, ripped and coated in grime and dirt. The note escapes my lips as I slip from consciousness, clear and strong. I smile at the last note on the paper and pass out.

The sky deepens to a midnight blue, and the wrecked ground empties slowly, leaving me to the silence that my music should have filled.