The warehouse rave

A Story by Skitsy

A short but honest and gritty description of the party life.

Dancing to music through the seconds of my existence, body decomposing before me. My concept of time is changing with my state of mind. Dark eyed beings skank to the beat of the music and provocatively dressed females scurry around the gloomy corridors. They wear plain dark leggings and fake glamour fills their faces, their seductive beauty is nothing but a facade. The walls and corners are littered with vermin. Some squat in the corner, swallowing and sniffing white personality, in the background red and green illuminate lights fly across the room in a repeated flashing cycle and showing, only for a few seconds before it goes dark again, the haunted faces of the ravers.