The dance hall was black and stuffy; hundreds of kids were crammed inside. The music blared, pulsating through the floor and being absorbed by stamping feet. It flowed up through me, jarred me, as I vibrated with the sound. Everyone’s eyes were closed, and all were gyrating to the music. It was surreal, the kids pressed up against one another, screaming and laughing, and moving in circles. I was trapped in a sea of bodies, sharp elbows ramming into my sides. The sound, once so loud, became accustomed to, and soon, my senses were dulled. I moved without purpose, the music turning into background noise, thudding in my ears. I just kept moving, all thoughts gone, simply carried away by the mass of people. Dancing was no longer needed; I simply swayed from the movement of others.

The dance is over; I file out of the hall, not knowing what is going on. Cool night air gently licks my face and I am aroused from my trance. I shudder and stretch, realizing how cramped the hall was. I try shake off the last desperate tendrils of dry, dull absence of mind and leave the noisy scene.

Sitting on a bench at the back of the dance hall, I look at my hands. I look up and I look back down. I still feel so lifeless; something so stimulating as a noisy dance has somehow stifled my senses. I sit in the quiet, drawing in the scent of the earth. I stretch out on the bench and sigh, straighten up again. I can’t decide on anything, I just want to escape this muted state of nothingness.

I walk home by myself, shuffling my feet. I look at them, one in front of another in front of another. Step by step, I count the lines in the pavement I am crossing. I reach 42 and walk up my front steps. The house is an inky blackness until I reach a light switch. A dusty light comes on, yet I feel I’m still in the dark, still in a muffled lethargy.