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My Favorite Song.

 When my favorite song’s playing, everything else in the world seems to wash away.

When my favorite song comes on in my head, all of the other voices seem to go quiet, and leave me to dance around to the tune in my mind.

When my favorite song plays on the TV, the amber alerts that were playing previously seem to not matter, as I move my body to the sound of the beat.

When my favorite song comes on the radio, the moans and groans in the trunk seem to not matter, as I methodically smack my hand against the steering wheel.

When I hear someone singing my favorite song out in public, all of my attention moves to them, and time seems to not matter as I follow them through their day, humming that loveable, addicting song.

But when they hear me singing my favorite song, standing in front of their car, they don’t have the same reactions as me.

Even as I’m humming the tune to my favorite song, following closely behind them, to make sure they don’t leave me, they seem to quicken their pace.

I know they can hear my footsteps, as I make sure to walk to the beat of my favorite song, so why aren’t they enjoying it with me?

I can see them pulling out their phone, but they aren’t opening up my favorite song to listen to it. I think, maybe they’re calling the person who wrote my favorite song, and that excites me enough to hurry my pace out of tune, and catch up to them.

Unfortunately, they aren’t calling the person who wrote my favorite song, or the singer, or the producer. They were trying to call the police, which I don’t understand. The police don’t appreciate my favorite song the way I do, and the way I know this person in front of me does, so calling them makes no sense.

The police are on their way, so while humming my favorite song to calm my nerves, I take them with me, and put them in my trunk, making sure they can’t get out. Why would they want to anyway, they love my favorite song just as much as I do.

I start feeling nervous, since I can hear the sirens in the distance, which throws off the humming of my favorite song, and my hands start to shake, while the voices start to come back in.

But as I start the car, my favorite song starts playing, and I can feel everything else in the world wash away.

They’ll learn to appreciate my favorite song as much as I do soon enough, and then we can hum it together for the rest of our lives.

Even if they can’t hear the song the way I can.

Recommended1 Simily SnapPublished in Horror

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