Creative Writing

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Everlasting Bass

The sound of a party nears, the bass echoes throughout the suburban neighbourhood. The bass somehow grows louder. It takes me back to that night which I show very little remorse for. It was an experience of a life time The full moon shines above us, illuminating our high street garments. Neon green and pink was the theme as we swaggered down the quiet boulevard. We look at one another as the trembling bass in the distance reverberated to our ears. We smile and chuckle as curiosity grows stronger. The celebration is near. The party loomed ahead; the stench of alcohol invited us to walk towards the populated area. Girls wearing tight and short outfits made us smile, as they prowled on past. Their beauty made us search in every direction, searching like a light house on a foggy night. Time vanished as if someone had fast forward time. Hours went like minutes and minutes went like seconds. The liveliness came to a record low, as the small hand struck twelve o’clock. All went silent as rumours spread, that the cops were called. A sudden blaze of energy erupted causing everybody to fear the chance of getting caught. It was as if someone had kicked the hornets’ nest over. The party came to a halt; everyone was speechless waiting patiently for the “go” signal. Time went slowly as the seconds ticked in the background. A sudden sound of thumping came from the entrance. We all feared the police to be beyond that door waiting to chuck us into the back of their van. The host slowly unlocked the door revealing and intoxicated young man holding a smashed bottle. His face glowing bright red, spitting out every possible offensive word to the poor guy. The dispute carried on. A sudden noise of glass breaking blurred in the back, as four young men stormed through the front entrance, tightly gripping broken beer bottles. Their faces furious looking, as they scanned the room. All went berserk, everyone hurried towards the entrance, The thugs hustled back onto the...
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