ON THE BRIDGE
Abel paused for a while and stared at the roaring crowd that stretched on and on, reaching the limit of his sight.
Even with the powerful sound systems, his voice was still easily drowned out by the crowd as they sang, word for word, the lyrics of their songs.
A smile of fulfillment sneaked onto his lips. He couldn't help it... he just couldn't.
How long ago had he been just a clumsy nerd, suffering at the hands of bullies? How long ago had he spent all his spare time playing video games because fantasy outdid the reality of his life?
Behind him was his band, and further back was their drummer.
Abel smiled at the sight of his longtime friend. Hilsa was tossing her head madly, her colorful hair dancing in waves as she drummed for dear life. Around her were the other band members, each mirroring her unbound energy.
Still smiling, he reached for the mic and unplucked it from its stand.
He raised it to his lips, ready to gift them with his magical voice—the voice that was used to topping the charts with every hit.
The crowd roared... the stage shook... and when the sound eventually escaped his lips, it was not a soothing melody that came out. It was a scream. A scream of pure terror
Abel's heart pounded in his chest as the crowd faded away, their cheers and the echoes of his scream dissolving into an eerie silence.
He spun around in disbelief.
"What the hell is happening?" he muttered, his voice trembling. His band was gone, vanished...all of them except Hilsa.
She stood with her back to him, unnervingly still.
"Hilsa, what in hell is going on? Where did everyone go?" Abel called out as he rushed toward her. But as he approached, something in the air shifted, and an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him.
He skidded to an abrupt stop.
Something was horribly wrong.
Slowly, Hilsa began to turn toward him, and Abel instinctively started backing away. His breath caught in his throat as he watched in terror. Hilsa's colorful hair began to change, the hues draining away into a dull, menacing crimson. Her movements were unnaturally slow, deliberate, as if the very act of turning was a hideous performance.
When she finally faced him, Abel's blood ran cold.
He shut his eyes tight, but it was too late—the image was seared into his mind.
Hilsa's face was cracking, the skin splitting apart right before his eyes, and blood oozed from the ruptures, splattering everywhere.
For a moment, the world was swallowed by silence, an agonizing stretch of time where everything seemed to stand still. But then, that silence was shattered by the sound of slow, calculated footsteps.
The rhythmic thud echoed through the emptiness, each step more deliberate than the last.
Abel didn't dare open his eyes, but he didn't need to. He understood the terrifying truth beneath the sound.
She was approaching.
True enough, when Abel mustered enough courage to open his eyes, he saw Hilsa stretching her hands toward him, reaching out to grab him.
He leaped back in terror, only to realize with shock that he had jumped right to the edge of the stage.
He could have sworn the stage had been larger than this—how had it shrunk? There was no time to ponder the bizarre shift in his surroundings. He braced himself for the inevitable impact, but it never came.
A hand suddenly reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back as if he were nothing more than a feather.
When he looked up, he was astonished to see that he was not falling into darkness but being held by his mother. Her large hand enveloped his tiny palms as she pulled him from the edge of the couch.
The rockstar version of himself had vanished, and in his place was a two-year-old kid.
"I told you not to do that," she scolded, her voice stern yet tinged with sudden shock.
That tone was all too familiar to him—it meant she was displeased and angry with what he had done. It triggered the well of tears that he always kept on standby.
His lips tightened as he prepared to unleash his defenses.
"Harsh, harsh now, love… Mama won't do it again," she said soothingly as she easily lifted him to her chest.
Abel reconsidered, feeling a sudden shift in his perspective. 'Well, if you say so,' he thought, deciding to spare his defenses for a more opportune time.
He stared up at her pretty face and giggled.
Suddenly, the room buzzed with the presence of people he barely knew, but who were all almost his age. His face was adorned with colorful stickers as his mother guided him toward a table where a cake, topped with a candle bearing the number 3, was burning.
This time, he knew what to do. He had seen it done too many times on TV. He reached toward the candle, gathering enough air in his tiny mouth to blow it out. But his mother held him back.
"Aren't you forgetting something, honey?" she asked.
"Make a wish!" The rest of the kids chorused together
Oh, how could he forget the most exciting part, the part he had been waiting for almost half the year?
Abel's eyes lit up with anticipation. "I wish to become Mickey Mouse!" he yelled aloud, ready to blow out the candle.
"Oh dear, it's supposed to be a secret," his mother reminded him.
Abel quickly corrected himself, "I wish to be Mickey Mouse," he whispered to himself.
The other kids stared at him enviously, their faces reflecting the wish they held for themselves. Abel couldn't wait for the night to come so that he could sleep and wake up as Mickey Mouse.his dream was finally coming true.
He reached over and blew out the candle.
"Happy birthday!" everyone yelled in unison.
The explosion of their voices seemed to push him and the entire scene away, like a balloon drifting off into the sky.
The joyful shouts echoed in his ears, growing fainter and more distant until they were replaced by something else entirely
"Clear!"
Abel's world darkened, the warmth of the birthday party fading as a chill settled in.
A memory began to stir in his mind, fragmented and hazy—a screech of tires, the blinding flash of headlights, and then… nothing.
the endless ring went on...
"Charging to 300... clear!"
Another jolt and the memory started to take shape. The car, his mother at the wheel, Hilsa next to her—they had been driving somewhere, but where? His heart raced as he tried to remember.
"Come on, we're losing him! Clear!"
....still the ringing
"Come on..come on" someone urged desperately
and suddenly the sound changed to a different ring
"Yes! We've got a pulse! Stabilize him, now!"
The relief in the voice pulled Abel slightly back, as fear gripped him tighter.
a pulse...stabilize him.....what the hell?'