'Dance'
D.G
He didn’t use to dance.
He read. He smoked. He stared out the window. But mostly, he thought.
And then the thoughts got louder.
Not words. Not memories.
Something deeper. Something heavy. Like voices pressed into static. Like shame that learned how to hum.
The first time he danced, it wasn’t planned. A song came on, and he moved without knowing why. Something in his spine uncoiled. His breath slowed. For three minutes and twelve seconds, he was free. When the song ended, the thoughts came back.
Worse.
So he danced again. And then again... again.
He rearranged his life around it. No appointments. No calls. No breaks. Just music. Just motion.
Every stillness brought pain. Every pause echoed with regrets sharpened by time. His body ached, but it ached less than his mind. He kept the curtains closed. Lights off. The outside world grew distant. All that mattered was tempo. All that mattered was silence, silence buried beneath bass. He started wearing gloves to hide the tremors. Started wearing padded socks to muffle the blood. His knees cracked. His lips whispered lyrics he no longer heard.
Sleep was no longer a need. It was a danger.
The moment he stopped, even to sip water, the thoughts found the cracks. He began dancing in his dreams. In his head. While standing still. But still, they found him.
One night, he collapsed. The music paused. The silence roared.
And the thoughts poured in like black water. Screamed without sound. Laughed without breath. Every mistake, every loss, every fear, grinding into his skull.
He crawled to the player.
Pressed play.
And the moment the beat hit, he rose.
That was the last time he stopped.
Now, the walls know the pattern of his feet. The floor sinks with his weight. The air hums with the pulse of his compulsion.
There is no force.
No curse.
Only one choice...
Dance.